By ELMER SPRICKLAKE CITY, MINN. -- His name was Terry Quast, and he came from Mount Pleasant, Mich. I never saw him before, and chances are I will never see him again. He made a lasting impression, however, because we seemed to have much in common. He was a lover of the silent sport of canoeing, which he calls "motorless motion."
Terry operates a bike shop in Mount Pleasant that keeps him close to home in the summer months. This fall, he decided to canoe the Mississippi River from top to bottom, the bottom being the Gulf of Mexico.
Early October 2007 produced some unprecedented warm weather in Minnesota. A strong south wind pumped tropical heat into the state. Terry was bucking a headwind in his canoe until the front abruptly moved, bringing snow to northern Minnesota. What it brought to Lake Pepin was a strong north wind, whitecaps and morning temperatures in the 30s.
I met Terry one recent windy morning in Lake City. In the relatively sheltered boat harbor, I had managed to catch a meal of panfish. I was filleting them in the boat landing's fish-cleaning station when Terry appeared at the door and ask what I had caught. That didn't seem unusual; fishermen coming and going often ask that question. But it did seem odd to me that no vehicles were in the parking lot, and Terry didn't look like he'd come off the adjacent river walk. He was wearing a week's growth of whiskers and his clothes looked like he had been sleeping in them. No doubt he
had.A few minutes later, he came back to the fish-cleaning station and asked me if I knew of a motel in the neighborhood. A glance at the launching ramp gave me the picture; there was a canoe pulled up on the ramp with a huge backpack.
I advised Terry that the motels were on the opposite end of town about a mile away and said I'd be happy to give him a ride and to shelter his canoe and gear in my garage overnight. I also told him that there was little chance that the winds would diminish overnight and that the forecast for the next day was much the same.
He carried his gear and 75-pound canoe the long block to my house. While storing the canoe, I asked him if he wanted to consider skipping the lower half of Lake Pepin. If so, I said, I would give him a ride to Wabasha. He was very receptive, having seen enough of the lake's angry mood. We loaded his gear in my truck and headed for Wabasha.
On the ride, I should have listened more and talked less. I did learn, however, that Terry is an adventurous sort, having spent winters in the Everglades, canoeing among the alligators. He had business cards in his backpack, and I got his name and e-mail address. Around Thanksgiving, I plan to e-mail him and find out how if he survived the rest of the trip and how many paddle strokes it took him to get to the Gulf of Mexico.
The last I saw of him, he was making good time exiting of the Wabasha boat harbor, past Slippery's, of "Grumpy Old Men" fame. Just beyond that, he passed the newly dedicated National Eagle Center. But Terry had no time for tourist stops -- he had miles to go and a schedule to keep, and a good tail wind from the north!
Terry is one of many who has canoed the Mississippi. If he writes a book about it, I wouldn't blame him if he left Lake Pepin out.
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Postscript: Terry Quast recently e-mailed this to Joe:
I made it back safely and it was a wonderful trip. People like you, willing to help, were found along the length of the river. Further down the river, access is limited because of the big fluctuations in the water level. Access to the river is at town parks only, and people who live along the river drive into the public access areas to get a glimpse of the river since the levees are 40 feet high and nobody can see the river from their homes. But without exception, the people visiting these parks were willing to drive me to grocery stores, or restaurants, or even rides to state parks. That was the nicest part of the trip; people looking out for strangers.
The northern half is much nicer than the lower half of the Mississippi. You live in a nice area on Lake Pepin.
