Tonight Im tangled in my blanket of clouds
Dreaming aloud
Things just wont do without you, matter of fact
Im on your back.
If you walk out on me, Im walking after you
-foo fighters

It sounded simple enough. Just take a few folks on up the Mink river, a marshy, little ,slow flow river that carried water from a swamp a couple miles inland out to the big bay where the Door County symposium was held. Of course when things are too obviously straight forward, that’s about the time that it all goes pear shaped. Or at the very least you find yourself running blindly through tall grass, chasing the melodic laughter of a child whose leading you to your doom..  

The trip started off well enough as our group of nine cut across Rawley’s Bay and turned up the river. I’d not been up the Mink before so I could look forward to that. Around the first bend discovered a river who’s banks were lined with tall rushes, cat tails and hyperactive red-wing blackbirds. John, the other guide, decided to take the group up one of the many fingers that branched out into the tall grass. Within 50 yards the small stream came to an end and the group turned to go back. Just for fun I paddled my boat directly into the tall weeds and putting my paddle on the deck, pulled myself deeper and deeper into the weedy jungle.

I’ve found that the times when I pull my kayak through a tall grassy marsh is a strange, sort of claustrophoic experience. It can be a bit eerie surrounded by sameness with nothing to guide your way. There is green and sky. Nothing more. Open water could be 10 feet away and be totally obscured from view. On this day however,  I had the voices of the group just to my right which lead me out on the other side. We had a laugh as I pulled some slime and bits of broken grass out from under my deck lines and continued up river.

The Mink is really quite boring or “relaxing” depending on how you want to look at it. Beyond the constant wall of tall grass is forest. For the most part you could be lost in the wilds of Canada if not for the sudden appearance of a few opulent houses looking out over a bottleneck where the river fades away into marsh.

I waited back a bit as a few students went into a small opening to say they had reached the very, very, very, end. Soon each once was back and ready to go. One student then announced another was still back there. We waited. One kayak came out. “One more.” She said. That one didn’t come out. I stayed with the group as my partner went in after the wayward paddler. Just a minute in, he had found her coming back. She had found a small nook and was attempting to find the very, very, very, VERY end. When she had realized no one was following, she said, she turned around to come back.

We made our way back down river. The morning sun was warming up and the sky was a perfect blue. I’m sure my borrowed, rose colored sun glasses were over playing the stereoscopic, Technicolor morning. It was certainly by sheer accident that I noticed one kayaker on the other side of the wide river, just in the blind spot of the other guide, stop. She stopped, and turned back. She quickly raced up one of the open rivulets that fanned off into marsh. She was instantly and most defiantly, gone.

I made my way across the river and told John where I was going, then with a lean and hard sweep, I made my way toward the same opening  into which I saw the wayward kayaker disappear. She could not have been far I thought. I kept paddling… and paddling. The water way was becoming shallow and beginning to twist and turn as I paddled father into the marsh. Still no sign of our rouge kayaker. I paddled on, digging in to get up as much speed as I could in the tight, shallow lane. Finally I saw a paddle flickering behind the curtain of green some distance ahead. I shouted, “ We should head back now.” The most mellow thing a coach can shout at a student who suddenly jumps the fence. I heard something about seeing where it ends before the paddles flickered and disappeared once again into the reeds. For a moment I sat there feeling  stunned. “She did NOT just take off again!?”, I thought.  How far into this marsh are we? What’s the rest of the group doing? Why am I being lead on this merry dance? I leaned forward and dug in, the tip of my paddle digging into the muck just inches below.  I adjusted my stroke and again pushed ahead determined to catch her. I had visions of chasing a mad pixie siren deeper and deeper toward some unknown doom. As I continued to dig in I was shocked I didn’t catch up quickly. She had to be racing along as well. How was she staying so far ahead?

Finally after pushing hard with everything I had, I once again could make out the paddles through the tall grass. This time I was not feeling quite so accommodating. “You will stop now! I shouted ahead., “ Now turn your kayak around and paddle back here.” “OK.” She said. And she did.

Somewhere out there in the middle of a marsh, lost in a maze of green, we had a brief, one-sided discussion about group dynamics and safety. Then we slowly worked our way back through the maze and once again out into the river. There my partner had gathered the rest of the group and waited. “Did you find it?” someone asked, totally unaware of the situation. “Nope.” I said, “But we had a good time, trying.”. We slipped back into the group and continued home.

All in all this story or the situation on this day is no big deal. However, it would have been very easy for us to have missed our prodigal paddler and returned home one short only to have noticed when we counted off at the end. In fact, I had done a head count only moments before she turned off and would likely not have checked again any time soon. Certainly the marshes are not fraught with danger, and yet it is possible to get stuck out there, or lost. The real lessons are 2 fold. For the guides and coaches it shows how quickly something odd and unexpected can happen even in a benign environment. For students it’s just a reminder to ah, stay with your group.

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2. Wetsuits and Ketchup
3. and then there were 3
4. Same River, Different Landing
5. Scouting is good