Fourth Installment: Final Preparations

A remnent of the canal that once connected the Fox and Wisconsin Rivers, still flows into the Fox. It begins near the restored 1832 Indian Agency House, established in the aftermath of an 1827 uprising of the Ho-Chunk Nation.¹ This agency and Fort Winnebago were minor elements of a major governmental reaction to this small uprising. In December 1828, President John Quincy Adams announced that the U.S. would now pursue an Indian removal policy, initiating decades of tragedy for the Ho-Chunk and most indigenous people.²

The historical site’s current caretaker was Scott. A friendly, garrulous, bearded, bear of a man, he gave me permission to leave the Jeep in the parking lot until Mark and my father picked it up. From the parking lot, a gravel road led to a turn-around at the canal. I stopped there, unstrapped the kayak, and slid it off the roof racks. Hoisting it onto my right shoulder, I walked down a grassy slope to the canal. I carried the gear down too, drove the Jeep over to the parking lot, and returned to pack. It was after 7 a.m., already 60 degrees and warming.

I never packed this much gear for my day-trips. There is an art to packing a kayak. Most of the gear needs to be stuffed inside, ballasting and balancing the boat, leaving those items needed during the day nearest the cockpit or on deck, so items needed the least have to be prodded into the farthest, narrowest confines of bow and stern. That is not an easy trick in a kayak with no hatches, seventeen feet long and only 21 inches wide.

Everything was bundled in waterproof bags. These included a long, tapered bow-bag for spare clothes and a large sealed bag for food. There was a bag near the cockpit for medical and other emergencies, and one for baidarka repair (duct tape included). Another small, easily accessible bag contained toilet paper and a trowel(just in case). There was a bag with trip information, maps, and reading and writing material and another that held my toilet kit. My camera and cell phone had their own little bags that would remain on my person.

A compass was strapped across the front deck with elastic cords. Each day’s map was laminated and clipped to the compass lines so that I could see it while paddling. A waterproof bag of rain gear was strapped on the deck behind the cockpit. That bag also held a mid-day meal, paddling gloves, sun screen, and other small items I might want during the day. On the back deck were my throwing line and paddle float. Two Nalgene bottles held drink. I kept one strapped to the fore deck next to the pump, and one inside the boat. A spare paddle was slipped under the rigging on the front deck. I wore a brimmed hat and a yellow and black PDF(personal flotation device/life vest).

You would have thought I was crossing the Bering Strait rather than paddling the gentle Fox; but it was my first trip, so if I had a piece of gear and it fit, I took it. After surveying the gear laid out on the lawn, I commenced with jamming and cramming, strapping and clipping. The food, clothes, paper material, and emergency bag went forward.

Behind the cockpit I squeezed in a two-wheeled cart for portaging at the dams and locks, an ancient golf bag cart with removable wheels for packing. With the wheels on, the frame padded with foam and fitted with elastic cords, the cart could be strapped to the bottom of the baidarka’s bow. This allowed me to lift the stern and wheel the kayak like a very long wheelbarrow without unpacking. My baidarka weighed 47 pounds empty, which was fine for carrying, but at nearly 70 pounds loaded it was too heavy and awkward to hoist on my shoulder. So at each of the many portages along the way, the little cart would save unpacking, double portaging first the gear and then the kayak, and repacking.

I wiggled my way into the cockpit at 8:35 a.m., pushed off from the shore, and headed north through the canal. The baidarka felt good. The gear ballasted it nicely. Fully loaded and riding lower in the water, the kayak’s predilection to tip was reduced, but not its speed. A couple dozen strokes brought me to the river and I entered the steady, slow current of the Fox.


1. Historic Indian Agency House. Home Page. Accessed October 15, 2011. .

2. Annual Report of the Board of Indian Commissioners, Vol. 32, p. 35. Government Printing Office, 1901.


_____________________________________________