Adventure Magazine
Issue 230, February/March 2022
Issue 230, February/March 2022
Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
Later, along the Missouri, I found<br />
myself on the periphery two derechos<br />
(Derechos are fast-moving bands of<br />
thunderstorms with destructive winds)<br />
as they blew their way past. But they<br />
passed to either side and I was safe. The<br />
following year two sets of twisters blew<br />
their way through several states. I was<br />
with a family in downtown Demopolis<br />
at the time who had a “safe room”<br />
in their home for such occasions, so<br />
we were safe. With such storms you<br />
get severe flooding, so I had to hold<br />
up here for an entire month to wait<br />
for the flood waters to recede, twice.<br />
Later along the Kentucky River, I got a<br />
flash flood warning on my phone just<br />
before last light, followed by a severe<br />
thunderstorm warning. I slipped and<br />
slid and scrambled myself up a muddy<br />
embankment, with all the expedition gear<br />
and canoe up the hill as high as I could<br />
get. I slept like a baby through the storm<br />
and come the morning, when I zipped<br />
open the front flaps of the tent, the water<br />
was right there. It had risen at least 10<br />
feet overnight and I had been lucky not<br />
to have been washed away.<br />
How much was up stream and how<br />
much downstream? 7,500 miles total.<br />
Upstream: 2700 miles; Downstream:<br />
3963 miles; Portage: 410 miles; Flat<br />
(lakes and gulf) 666 miles. A note,<br />
the majority of “downstream” was the<br />
Missouri River (2,196 miles), the majority<br />
of which is dammed up, and thus with<br />
the wind against you a whole lot, a real<br />
challenge.<br />
Seeing the trip seemed to coincide<br />
with the Covid Pandemic did it play<br />
a major role? The Covid-19 virus<br />
really hit about a month and a half into<br />
my journey, those early days ravaging<br />
both states I was travelling between,<br />
Washington and Oregon. That we all<br />
finally understood that the pandemic<br />
was on in a very real way. And I stopped,<br />
and I reached out to trusted friends<br />
– journalists and an ex-Army Special<br />
Forces friend, who teaches the Army<br />
to this day survival and how to dive in<br />
the “wacky tides” of the Columbia River<br />
Bar. I got in touch with them and asked<br />
point blank what they thought, and the<br />
overwhelming answer reverberated<br />
in one chord – “You are in the safest<br />
possible place. And you absolutely have<br />
to keep going.”<br />
The flip side to that decision was that<br />
there was nowhere else to shelter in<br />
place. Americans were no longer able to<br />
travel back to Taiwan, Americans were<br />
not able to travel to South Africa, both<br />
places in the world where I also hang up<br />
my hat and call home. So, in essence,<br />
the journey itself -- the canoe and my<br />
tent and all of my gear -- the expedition<br />
itself became my home. And sheltering in<br />
place meant continuing the journey.<br />
Did you see a lot of wildlife – were<br />
there any dangerous encounters?<br />
There was a Grizzly bear near the top<br />
of the Continental Divide, who passed<br />
50 feet in front of me as I made my way<br />
down the mountain towards Helena,<br />
Montana. I was fall harnessed and<br />
attached to my canoe with a big shipping<br />
rope and by the time I got my snow<br />
gloves off and my camera out of my<br />
pocket, it was gone. Which made me<br />
realize had it come for me, I wouldn’t<br />
have had time to reach for the buck knife<br />
or bear spray attached to my belt.<br />
In Lake Pontchartrain at Bayou<br />
Lacombe, a giant gator made its way<br />
out of the water and towards my tent at<br />
2:30 in the morning. I woke with a start,<br />
clapped my hands in a half sleep and<br />
it didn’t stop. So, I grabbed my diving<br />
light (which is super bright) and shone it<br />
out the front of the tent, and it stopped,<br />
turned around, and walked back into<br />
the bayou. Later, on a night paddle from<br />
Deer Island near Biloxi, Miss. on the<br />
Mississippi Gulf Coast to Horn Island, a<br />
good 10 mile stretch across open water,<br />
a bull shark repeatedly rammed the<br />
canoe (three times) at last light. I knew<br />
what it was, but I still had another 7 or<br />
so miles to paddle into the dark gulf, so I<br />
blocked what had happened out, a mind<br />
over matter positive affirmation of sorts.<br />
The shark didn’t come back for me,<br />
and at twelve midnight, my open canoe<br />
pushed up onto the sands at Horn Island<br />
and I was safe.<br />
What was the best part of the trip?<br />
Seeing the beacon hand of the Statue<br />
of Liberty in NY Harbor, and the entire<br />
journey coming back to me in rapid-fire<br />
flashes, the illumination of that flame<br />
shining in every single face that I could<br />
conjure. The least of us, the best of us,<br />
the flame of liberty alive and well and<br />
burning ever so bright.<br />
Your home is in Taipei? I’ve spun the<br />
continents between Cape Town and<br />
Taipei for the past thirty years. I paid my<br />
PO Box forward for three years before<br />
embarking on this second attempt at the<br />
cross-America journey so I like to say the<br />
closest thing to a residence for me is that<br />
PO Box. With the pandemic still on and<br />
Taiwan closed down, I plan to hang my<br />
hats in America for the near future.<br />
What do you do there? I have taught<br />
English in Taiwan and reported as a<br />
freelance journalist.<br />
Is there anyone you would like<br />
to publicly thank? We talk about<br />
supported vs unsupported adventures,<br />
and I can say that I’ve been supported.<br />
By smiles and waves and warm meals<br />
and showers and well wishes. From<br />
folks across America from all walks of<br />
life, by friends out in the great big world<br />
who have cheered the expedition on<br />
from afar. I have travelled solo but I have<br />
never been alone. And for that, I’ve got<br />
to say cheers to one and all.<br />
Above left to righ: Receiving a warm welcome / The 22 rivers from sea to sea / The interesting locals you meet on the way<br />
Right: Departure from Esopus Island, the Hudson River. Photo courtesy Ranger Kevin Oldenburg (National Park Service)<br />
32//WHERE ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS/#230