On the Darkside

 

 I have come to regard November as the older, harder man's October. I appreciate the early darkness and cooler temperatures. It puts my mind in a different place than October. It is a month for a quieter, slightly more subdued celebration of summer's death as winter tightens its grip.---Henry Rollins

I don't know why, but the falling back of one hour in daylight savings times always surprises me. I'm not ready for the dark. Before my eyes, the sun is being slammed into the horizon. Exploding into little bits before disappearing into the night. It happens all too fast.

I was paddling up to Rattlesnake Bar from Donton's Point on Folsom Lake. It is not usual kayak outing for me. I had never it done before and always wanted to do. The north arm of the lake turns from big open water to a narrow canyon. With low water, the rock formations climb out of the lake in dramatic fashion. For paddlers, this is the most interesting part of the lake. Round trip it's about 10 miles.

It was a late afternoon start at about three when I dropped my kayak in on the south side of Doton's Point. Each day the lake is being drawn down further and further. Driving down to the water's edge, the dry lake bed looks more like a dry desert or the moon. Parking on a high spot on the beach, the truck should be easy to see coming back.

The hanging sun dipped behind the clouds and hovered over the horizon behind me. I looked over my shoulder the whole time wishing I had more time. I had beaten the darkness before. Late summer nights while camping in Minnesota, I would paddle out for sunset trips across the lake. Listening to the loons, watching the orange ball sink into Lake Itasca and still have enough light to paddle back,  beach my kayak and light the campfire before nightfall.

Even this past summer, while helping out with evening paddles with Current Adventures we had beaten the dark. The paddlers we were training for Eppie's Great Race on the American River would finish just short of sunset. We would carry the kayaks up the hill at River Bend Park in the twilight and load up under the stars.

Yes, I had won the race against the darkness many times before. But, this time I was surprised. I had gone too far and still had to come back. This time I wouldn't beat the night. I would be paddling back in shadow. I hurried back as fast I could. My fingers and feet tingled as I pressed into the footpegs and paddle. Faster, faster I thought to try to will my kayak back to the put in. But, no matter how fast I paddled the sunlight was gone and night had prevailed.

I paddled back toward the lights of Folsom Dam. To the east, the full moon arose over the foothills. It provided some friendly comfort. I was not totally in the dark or alone anymore. I had been on a few full moon paddles before and found them quite tranquil when I was prepared. Hugging the shore,  I was looking for my truck. The land and water amalgamated into murkiness. I can't say I was lost. I knew the lake pretty well by now and I knew how to get back. It was more like fumbling around in a dark bedroom trying to find the light switch. I know it was there somewhere. I just have to keep looking.
The moonlight glistened on the water as I approached Donton's Point. In the shadows, I could make out the silhouette of the truck's body. I was back to my starting point tired and relieved. I loaded up and drove away thinking, I better get an earlier start next time. It was only a little past six.

Itasca, the Beginning

The morning mist of Lake Itasca.

Now that the first day of summer looms ahead of me, I drift back to where the trees are tallest, days are longest and water pours out over the rocks and starts an amazing journey to the Gulf of Mexico.
 Itasca State Park is Minnesota's oldest and most popular state park. The park was founded in 1891 to protect and commemorate the Headwaters of the Mississippi River.  The park with its geographical and historic appeal, its campgrounds, 50-miles of nature trails and peaceful lakes make it ideal for any type of north woods adventure.


It's easy to find Itasca State Park, located just north of Park Rapids, Minnesota.  But, in the days before it was mapped,  a steady stream of early explorers led many expeditions up the Mississippi to find the 'true source' of the mighty river. In 1832, Henry Rowe Schoolcraft cut his way through a thicket into a small weedy opening and saw what he would later write, "The cheering sight of a transparent body of water burst upon our view. It was Itasca Lake, the source of the Mississippi."

Lake Itasca is small by Minnesota standards with three arms reaching into the majestic northern pines. The West Arm borders the park's wilderness sanctuary.  Bear Paw campground and the Bower Trail line the eastern part of the lake. The Headwaters and most of the parks facilities, swimming beach and boat ramp are located on the northern main part of the lake. On weekends and during the summer, the crowds flock here to see the origin of the Mississippi and to take a dip or rent a canoe.

The Headwaters sign.

Everyone who's ever been there has a memory of crossing over the rocks at the Mississippi's birthplace. A line of hand-laid boulders forms a crude dam at the outlet of the lake. Every kid from Minnesota has had their picture taken here either by the sign or wading in the creek. It's a short hike from the Visitor Center and gift shop to the stream. On hot summer days, folks of all ages will kick off their shoes to wade the cool waters.

Dixon and Noel at the Headwaters.

Having camped and kayaked at Itasca State Park with my family many times, I usually picked a spot near the lake so I could enjoy the early morning and sunset paddles across the water.
Before the sun touches the water, I would carry my kayak from my campsite to the lake. The sound of loons echoing over the lake, a glowing mist hanging like a ghost over the lake, greeted me as I paddled through the reeds to open water.  Lost in the fog, I slid along the lakeshore enjoying the solitude.
Sunsets are just as tranquil on the lake. The water glistens. The sun burns orange and red before falling into the darkness over the forest. Before returning to my campfire for the night, I have often enjoyed a sunset paddle on the lake with the company of only a few fishermen.

A quiet morning along the East Arm of the lake.

Trumpeter swans of the lake.

One of the highlights of paddling the lake is seeing various wildlife. The trumpeter swans seem always aware and just out of distance, while the loons pop up from under the water looking surprised that someone is there. It's welcoming to see many bald eagles, ducks and geese around the lake, as well as deer, beaver, otters and turtles. The long and narrow eastern arm of the lake provides great opportunities for wildlife viewing.

Last day of summer, the first day of fall.

Itasca Lake was my source for serenity. I have great memories of both kayaking and camping along its shore.  In 2012, it was the place I went for my 100th paddling day of the season. Such an accomplishment needed a special place to share that milestone. Now living in California, I think of those days fondly hoping someday to journey back to the beginning.