To the river angels, strangers, and loved ones who offered resupplies, rest stops, and reminders of kindness along the way — thank you.

And to everyone who’s supported our fundraising goal for the fight against childhood hunger: we are proud to share that we’ve raised over $11,500 to date. Donations will remain open through Monday night — let’s see how far we can take it!

Final Chance to Support!

The remainder of this post will detail our final day and trip summary.

Final Day Log

• 1:15 AM- Arrived at Wax Lake Boat Ramp. There, we set up Leah’s tent and pretended we were “camping,” not “loitering next to a boat ramp.”

• 1:45 AM- I started trying to sleep. Leah actually did! It was so cold 😭

• 3:00 AM- Switched who was trying to sleep where.
  Did we mention it was two adults and a puppy in a 1.5 person tent?!

• 4:30 AM- Fishermen began their morning migration. Each spotted our kayaks, exclaimed “Oh, that’s a kayak!,” and then loudly debated whether we were awake. We were. At least one nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized there was a tent.

• 6:00 AM- Leah woke up and stared morosely at the mosquitoes attacking the tent, for those on the inside were laden with blood.

• 6:30 AM- Fully gave up on sleep, as Leah’s parents were arriving with breakfast. We tumbled out of the tiny tent to start our final day. They graciously took our unnecessary gear, allowing us to paddle the final day with nearly empty boats.

• 7:30 AM- Loading up and pushing off

• 8:00 AM- Actually paddling!

We followed the Wax Channel for about 9 miles, eventually turning into Wax Lake itself. Wax Lake is not a lake - at least not this time of year. It is more like the start of the bayou than a wide open space - it reminded me of some of the parts on the upper that were mapped as lakes but in reality there was only one path clear of the wild rice. I was initially worried about missing the turn to Hog Bayou (what if the rice blocked the path and we had to go back and find a different route through the lake?) but the clear path led straight into the bayou, so it was no big deal.

Hog Bayou is a windy path through the swamp with abundant vegetation (but not in a bad way), consistent flow, and dozens of alligators. It was some of my favorite paddling of the whole trip, with a quick but gentle current, lots of riverbends that were still wide enough for my boat to easily make, and plenty of interesting plants and animals to look at and listen to as we passed. Sydney felt misled, having expected something more akin to a cypress swamp than a slow moving river. She was also less than thrilled with the gators!

We turned the final corner, and there it was: BAM, saltwater!

We still had about a mile and a half of open water paddling after that to make it to Burns Point, where’d rejoin the real world, but we had done it. We were here! 2100 miles and change all led up to this - an easy paddle out a narrow bayou into the wide flat Gulf.

Trip Summary

• Total Distance: 2121 miles

• 59 total days (1 zero day, 58 paddle days)

  • 60 resupplies. This was counted in terms of separate stops, meaning if we refilled water, picked up a box of food, and went grocery shopping at the same stop, that’s 1 resupply, but if someone gives us a Coke from their boat, that’s also 1 resupply.

• Ignoring outliers like zero days and 100 mile day, our mileage basically fell into 3 categories:

  • First 116 miles (first 5 days): 22 miles/day

  • Upper Mississippi River: 34.5 miles/day

  • South of Chain of Rocks: 46 miles/day

  • Overall average speed: 36 miles/day

• Longest Day: 110 miles over 24 hours

  • Fastest Sustained Hourly Speed on 100 mile day was the last hour (11pm to midnight) at 6.57 mph. We credit this to the Christmas carols and it being the last hour.

• Furthest Deviation from the plan: 60 miles, meaning we were never more than a day’s paddle behind our planned schedule.

• 8 nights spent in a real bed. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the folks listed here:

  • 2 in hotels (Memphis, Natchez)

  • 6 with River Angels (Emma Bromenshenkel, Abby and Robbie Skiba, Jim & Ken, Deb & Dick Schroeder, Mike & Pat Porter, and Scott & Kristen Ladewig)

• 14 showers. Our longest stretch between showers was 8 days, and our shortest stretch between showers was 5 hours.

• 8 times unintentionally above waist deep in water

  • 1 flipped boat

  • 1 instance of stepping out and there was no ground

  • 1 instance of stepping out into quicksand

  • 5 bail-outs learning to stand up in boat while paddling

• Upwards of 500 Mission First Tortillas and likely 10 pounds of pepperoni.

• 15 campfires

• 7 pairs of lost or destroyed sunglasses

  

  For anyone who likes graphs (and who doesn’t like graphs?), here’s a tiny bit of data analysis:

Boborometer

The boborometer is what happens when you admire an 18th-century scientist a little too much and also have access to the paint chip selection of Home Depot. Modeled after Horace-Bénédict de Saussure’s cyanometer—a ring used to measure the blueness of the sky, and, by extension, its moisture—the boborometer replaces noble sky hues with the earthier palette of river sludge. The name comes from the Greek βόρβορος, meaning “mire” or “filth,” and it does live up to both. Technically it was meant to gauge turbidity, but the sun and water kept interfering, so I pivoted to comparing riverbank mud tones instead. It turns out there are more shades of Mississippi brown than any paint catalog dares admit.

On Conflict

S.M.

Our goals for the trip weren’t really in opposition, though it sometimes felt like they were. Leah wanted to paddle the whole river and end the trip as friends1. I never doubted either outcome and instead focused on soaking up enough sunshine to survive corporate law. (Mission accomplished by Minnesota2.)

I did not expect to argue at all on this trip. Blame my youthful optimism and naivety! Leah, ever the realist, disagreed. Two months, in close quarters, under stress, with no breaks? Of course we’d fight.

She was right.

Our disagreements generally arose from two areas:
1) unilateral attempts at optimization and
2) lack of consensus regarding how and when we’d complete the trip3.

Exacerbated by environmental stressors, disrupted routines, and distance from our support networks, these disagreements turned into actual fights. Fighting for us looks like loooong silences leading up to carefully phrased statements of personal opinion, unwillingness to budge from said positions, wondering if we’re terrible people, tears, melodramatic fear that the friendship is OVER, and uncertainty over what we actually agreed to, if anything.

L.P.

After the first week of fighting, I asked if I could share about them on the blog. I wanted this blog to reflect what really happened on our trip, both to jog my own memory later, but also so as not to provide a curated and gilded account to other paddlers or prospective paddlers. I don’t want anyone to look at our blog, and think, “wow, everything went so smoothly for them - what am I doing wrong?”.

I fully believed that we could work through this over the course of 2 months - after all, we’ve known each other almost 15 years through multiple major life events and long periods apart- we weren’t going to suddenly not be friends; this relationship was too important to each of us. At the same time, I knew it was going to get worse before it got better- so much of our early conflict seemed to me to be rooted in miscommunication and assumptions grounded in our vastly different worldviews. It was going to take some time to even start speaking the same language.

I wanted to document that trajectory - to have a platform to say that not all fighting is bad and that not all progress is linear, and also yes, I have fights. Interpersonal conflict resolution isn’t talked about enough. Full Stop. And too often just the idea of having to resolve these types of conflicts leaves people feeling alone, hopeless, and unsure if it’s worth it. There were points on this trip when I felt hopeless too, and I started to doubt my conviction that our friendship was strong enough to bear the weight of public scrutiny on top of everything else. Who was I to think that this would be a success story? What if my pride and desire to make a point pushed us over a line I could not yet see?

But even just in those doubts we can see evidence of fight type #1: unilateral attempts at optimization: what I thought, my pride, line I couldn’t see.

I couldn’t fix this - we had to.

S.M.

Neither of us gives up easily. And so, we began to debrief after each argument, to name what actually happened instead of what we thought happened. We talked about how we felt and how we wanted to feel the next time we disagreed.

Over time, we got better at it. Some of the practices that helped us navigate our disagreements were to ask questions early, to accept peace offerings, to let stress stay where it belongs, and to remember how each person prefers to be cared for. We found comfort in reminding ourselves that we were still friends, despite whatever decision point we faced. We began to avoid absolute and accusatory statements. Our shared emotional dictionary grew to guide us through each conflict. If we felt a fight coming on, we could lean on key phrases to diffuse the tension:

“I notice…”

“When you said that, I heard…”

“You just did … and now I feel …”

“I am going to do this because …”

L.P.

I don’t get mad very much. I mean, sure I can get frustrated, annoyed, exasperated, but it very very rarely escalates beyond minor inconvenience. It’s something we talked about several times during the trip, because it’s sometimes hard to read my expression, so a silence that really means, “I moved on and am now thinking about the way the light bounces off those cliffs” could be misread as, “I am angry about a comment or action from whatever we were talking about before”.

When I was a kid (10-11ish?) it took very little to set me off - a restaurant being too loud could trigger tears, personal attacks, and shouting. We tried stress balls (I threw them at things), tearing up paper in increasingly thick layers (trying to tear through 8 layers at once and failing just made me more mad4), grounding exercises (5 things you can see, etc - couldn’t remember them on my own and wasn’t in a mood to take orders), distractions (I got madder because I felt invalidated/ignored) and probably other techniques that I’ve since forgotten.

What finally worked for me was just gathering up the emotions and putting them in a box. I could be mad later, I told myself, after I faked everyone else into thinking I had calmed down. They wouldn’t know what hit ‘em5. That was the plan anyway. The blessing in disguise is that the box I had wasn’t some hermetically sealed bottle, it was just a regular ol’ leaky box.

The emotions didn’t stay put, like I expected them to, and when I came back to them later, there were less than when I first put them in - a manageable amount, something I could work through rather than unleash upon the world. Over time, I came to rely on my leaky box to leak - dumping my anger there while I sorted out the situation, not making absolute statements or impulsive decisions until the box was empty, and trusting that it would be…eventually. It was never as satisfying as the more immediate ways to dispel my anger, but it worked. Only the big things stay in the box when I come back to check on it, and those can be tackled one at a time.

In our fight debriefs, why I didn’t remember a particular slight or why I didn’t think it had started the night before (it’s always the night before) could often be explained with two words: leaky box.

S.M.

If you can’t tell by now, Leah’s not exactly conflict adverse. In contrast, I hate fighting. I try to avoid it at all costs, keep it secret when it happens, and forget that it ever happened once resolved. But two months of trial and error, tracking, and debriefing have shifted my perspective on conflict. I used to think fighting meant something was wrong. Now, I think it means you care enough to say what you need. To stay in the conversation, even when it’s hard to. You only fight with someone when the outcome still matters — when you want the shared thing to survive, even if it changes shape in the process. Fighting means you’re invested enough to disagree, to ask for better, to keep talking.

Two months on the river will test any friendship. When we started logging our arguments in the blue journal, I hoped the data might explain them. It didn’t. The dots refused to line up neatly. There’s no neat correlation between mileage, weather, showers or stress. What it shows instead is that we kept trying. It’s evidence that affection can survive friction—and maybe even grow from it. Turns out the trick isn’t avoiding conflict— it’s learning to keep paddling despite it.

And so to celebrate that fact, this installment of the trip log is anchored by the objects present at the end.

Water Proof Playing Cards | Day 51, Sept 20, Saturday

The waterproof playing cards definitely earned their spot in the dry bag. We’ve pulled them out for lunch breaks, lock waits, and now for fireside fun with my uncle and cousin, who camped with us on the other side of Greenville.

Everyone played a part in camp set-up. Arya and I gathered firewood, while Leah filled the water jugs and handled other boat resupply tasks. Daniel set up the tent and cooked dinner. Chicken tikka masala has never tasted better! After dinner, we played outdoor games — hide and seek, race tag, red light green light, Simon Says — until the light faded. Then we circled around the fire and played a few rounds of hearts, spades, Go Fish, and poker. After smore’s, we made it to bed just before midnight.

We’ll keep the cards close, a reminder that this trip, like any good game, is best played together.

The Journal | Day 52-53, September 21-22, Monday and Tuesday

Memory and memory making are important to me. From past travel experiences, I know that my surest path to remembering a journey is to keep a daily log. And so I brought this small blue journal along for our river trip. In it, I tried to keep track of our campsite, activities, weather, wildlife, and all the little moments that might otherwise slip away—what we ate for lunch, who we met, how the river sounded that morning. Those notes become a kind of anchor, something steady to return to when days blurred together.

But the days leading up to Natchez left little room for reflection. When planning our trip, we’d counted on faster river flow to help us make our return-to-work deadlines. But it was a low water year, and we were left paddling dark-to-dark to make our daily mile goal. Those last few days of the trip, every minute seemed claimed by paddling, camp setup, and sleep. By the time we stopped, we were too tired to write.

Now, looking back, the gap in the journal feels like a fogged window. I can vaguely recall passing Vicksburg, catching the first reliable cell signal we’d had since New Madrid, and maybe a stretch of calm water that didn’t seem to match the urgency of the day. Beyond that, it’s blank space. I want to have something poignant to say about living in the moment, or letting go of perfect completion, but I don’t. Whatever happened those two days is lost to me, but I’m sure it involved paddling!

Party Pucks | Day 54, September 23, Tuesday

The party pucks — our bright orange navigation lights — did their best, but tonight they gave their last blink.

Pictured below are the new and improved pucks— warning, the video contains flashing lights.

We spent our 54th day struggling to reach Natchez before dark. At first, we seemed ahead of schedule! Then we got separated by a string of barges, several of which were pulling over out of channel. Soon enough, we understood why: Just as we came back together, an afternoon thunderstorm storm rolled in. Wind pushed waves against us, and for thirty minutes the river turned into chaos. We were caught between barges and river bank too steep to stop. Leah’s boat, tippy on a good day, almost went over twice, getting so deep in the waves that the water in her boat came up to her knees (shout out to Emily and Justin for boat flipping practice before the trip - it was helpful for knowing how to brace with a boat full of water)

When the storm finally passed, we paddled through the dark to Natchez. The city is still a busy port, and we needed to cross the channel without any lights to warn larger boats of our presence. Fortunately, Mike became a beacon on the boat ramp, shining a flashlight and calling out support. With our lights flickering and our nerves frayed, we finally made it safely to the Mark Twain Guest House above Under the Hill Saloon. While we showered and regrouped, Mike went on a mission to replace the pucks.

While he was out, a local river angel named Peggy came by with yogurt, fruit, salmon, bread, and a thoughtful river-themed gift. Mike returned triumphant with new, water-resistant flares. We ended the day tired but safe, with new pucks and good people to thank for both.

Excel Spreadsheets | Day 55, September 24, Wednesday

Excel spreadsheets are the tool we reach for most on this trip. The public version of our prep sheet remains available here, but the private version that it’s based on has ballooned in size over the course of the trip. One of the newer tabs added holds our Pugh charts. Pugh charts help their users evaluate multiple options against a standard criteria. They were developed at Unilever Research Laboratory in the 1960s by one Mr. Stuart Pugh.

With the trip drawing to a close, we needed to decide how we were going to end the experience together. At lunch, we pulled over to a sandbar and laid out our chart, weighing options, debating routes. A version of our chart is shown above to demonstrate how they work. Placeholders for our options are on the left and decision-making priorities are along the top. The red cells were the weights we ascribe to each priority, and the white cells denote whether we think a given option fulfills, exceeds, or falls short of a priorities’ goal. The grey cells to the right are the option’s weighted score, and the green row is the option we decided on. It was the highest scoring option still feasible at that phase in the trip.

Some options were included as controls to check that our priorities were accurate. For example, #6 is a placeholder for ‘keep paddling forever!’ When our first version of the Pugh chart returned eternal paddling as the best option, that didn’t resonate with us. We realized our initial list of priorities and weights wasn’t capturing how we really felt, so we began to readjust the weights and add a few new criteria. I hadn’t used these matrixes before the trip, but I enjoyed the process of iterative weighting. We plan, we rank, we choose — and then the river confirms whether we were right.

With a decision made about the finale, we paddled on into an afternoon full of storms. At one point, we did pull over to shelter from lightning, but we largely paddled through the rain. We once again paddled through the night to reach our mileage goal, dodging barges left and right. Our new pucks flashed red, like the channel markers, and we worried barges were being drawn toward us in confusion. Worn out from the day, we decided to have dinner before collapsing to bed.

Locks and Dams | Day 56, September 25, Thursday

We like to celebrate ‘final’ markers. For example, our final portage (we thought) took place at Chain of Rocks near Alton, MO. On the morning of day 56, we were gearing up to celebrate our ‘final’ lock and dam onto the Atchafalaya exit.

We left camp wet and hopeful, with low mist hanging over the water. The turnoff to the lock was narrow, half-blocked by a dredger, but we made it across the channel in time. When we were well-within the exit, we stopped to call the lock to request passage.

Oops.

Apparently, we’d missed a navigational notice- the lock was closed until 7pm that day! We glanced at each other with horror. We didn’t have an entire day to spare waiting on the lock.

The lockmaster was out, but the men manning the dam took pity on us. They let us approach and take out at the lock’s boat ramp while they tried to find a solution.

The options were:

#1, wait for a survey boat, about 45 minutes out, and lock through after them…1 OR

#2, wait for a group of corp employees, also about 45 minutes out, and use their trailer to portage.

We decided to have lunch while we waited and choose whichever option materialized first, which turned out to be the portage. This was my favorite portage of the entire trip. The men backed their trailer into the water and we paddled right on, just like a real boat! They drove us around and we slid off again, never having to remove our bags from boats. Portaging in style!

On the other side of the dam, we saw where we would’ve paddled (low, muddy, and likely requiring a manual portage) had we not waited, and then we started the canal to the Atch. Along the canal, we saw several salvage tugs and boxes, including one being actively torn apart in a dry dock. One of the salvage workers offered us water and gave navigational advice. As we exited the canal, Leah saw three gators. I was not amused, but the Atch itself was really pretty.

Since we didn’t have a designated campsite for our first night on the Atchafalaya, we decided to stop at sunset. Our chosen spot was about 6 miles above Melville. We called it life on the ledge, in honor of its steep bank. We set our tents in the most level place we could, shifting sand in an attempt not to roll away in our sleep.

Alligator Bait | Day 57, September 26, Friday

Alligator Bait — Alli, for short — joined the trip today.

One of the things we’ve been tracking throughout the journey are the total number of resupplies. A resupply is anything given to or purchased by us that then gets placed in the boats. Eg, someone handing us Gatorade while we paddle = technically a resupply. A meal at a restaurant without any left overs? Not a resupply.

Some might accuse us of artificially inflating the resupply counter. They wouldn’t be… entirely wrong. But Alli is my favorite resupply yet. Probably Leah’s, too.

We picked her up at the Melville boat ramp, where we stopped to toss trash. I couldn't find a public trash can, so I asked the residents of a nearby camper where to find one. They weren’t sure, but generously let me come into their campsite to deposit our overflowing bags in their private can. While I walked across their site, a pack of puppies materialized at my heels. When I bent down to pet the bravest of the bunch, the campers ask if I wanted one (you can see where this is going, but you’re wrong). Remembering my promise to my husband to never come home with another living being unannounced, I (politely and responsibly) said no. However, I never promised not to cajole my friends into doing so!

Returning to Leah at the boats, I told her of our opportunity for a resupply… If she wanted a dog. I fully expected her to say no. I was not expecting her mental accounting to come out to “eh, it’s now or never.” With some light encouragement, we were back up at the top to pick her new puppy.

She waffled over which would have the honor of joining our expedition (and what problems to expect down the road), ultimately picking the sweetest of the bunch. After lots of belly rubs, meeting the parents, and accepting a gallon of dog food and flea and tick from the campers, we were on our way.

Though she’d grown up around the water, we think day 57 was Alli’s first experience in a boat. She was surprisingly chill with motor boat wake and loud noises, soon settling in to life on the river. Given that she was about 8 weeks old, we joked that she was destined to join our expedition. She would have been born just as we were starting in Itasca. Fate being what it may, Alli spent the rest of her first afternoon digging her way deeper into Leah’s boat, finding a cool place to lay on top of the water bottles.

We ended the night camped under the I-10 bridge, the hum of traffic running steady above us. Alli curled up in a corner of the tent on Leah’s head, already part of the group.

3 Mostly Full Bottles of Sunscreen | Day 58, September 27, Saturday

The I-10 bridge quickly became my least favorite campsite of the trip, through no fault of its own. Shortly after midnight, I awoke chilly and covered in mosquitos. My tent door had burst completely open! The zipper was not going to be fixed in the dark, so I made a makeshift door with my rainfly and texted Leah, begging for an early start if she woke up in the night. With her phone on airplane mode, she didn’t get my messages until the morning.

Our penultimate day was particularly difficult. We were under slept, behind schedule, and struggling to stay hopeful. I was overwrought and wanted nothing more than to stop paddling. Leah, with the end in sight, kept us moving toward our goal. Her efforts were bolstered by the generosity of several Cajun locals we met along the way. Each group we interacted with lifted my spirits and reminded me that the trip, however hard in the moment, had been a good experience.

Jourdan Thibodeaux and his partner were the first we met. Slipping between English and French, they were very interested in Leah’s wooden boat and puppy. They told us about their work leading gator hunting tours, and Jourdan’s success as a musician. Their energy was contagious, and we paddled on in slightly better spirits than we started with.

Later that same day, a group of 5 let us take a break off river in their hunting camp. They were familiar with paddlers and the river, generously plying us with ice water and a Walmart bag full of snacks. When they heard we had run out of sunscreen, it wasn’t enough to give us the can in their boat— they ran into the house to find THREE nearly full cans. We only had a day of paddling left! Their open-handed hospitality was humbling. I think we used the word ‘heartening’ about 20 times to describe the experience of interacting with those men! Of all the things we carried that day, it’s the sunscreen—and the spirit behind it—I’ll remember most.

We continued on, paddling through the night to our final campsite. A strong tail wind helped us across 6-mile-lake, and so we arrived around 1:15 in the morning. Sharing Leah’s tent, we were asleep by 2 am.

Our final trip installment will be out this Friday. In the meantime, our fundraiser is still open! Help us continue to raise money for these amazing charities by donating below.

Donate Now

More pictures from this stretch:

On the 41st day of the trip, we woke up at a muddy campsite and began paddling. Soon after, we met fellow source-to-sea adventurer Russell and his unnamed canine companion. They let us know that beaver tastes like rib-eye. We visited briefly before carrying on to the Wittenberg Boat Club at mile marker 88. The ramp and accompanying picnic space were immaculate. Three of the club members happened to be hanging out that morning. They shared local lore and tidbits about the surrounding area, including a site-to-see called “Tower Rock.” Though I wanted to stop to try to scale the cliff, we were on a deadline and have a general policy of choosing safety over adventure.

We continued to the Trail of Tears State Park, which had open showers and very brave armadillos. With abundant water, we took the opportunity to do laundry and refill our supply. The campground host helped us drive everything back down to our boats. Later that night, we dried our laundry by campfire.

After waking up the next morning, we paddled past Cape Girardeau. It looked like a very cute, historic town— we’ll be sure to spend more time visiting on the Great River Roadtrip 2065!

Around 5:30, we reached the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. Leaving our boats bobbing, we climbed up the observation deck for a better view. I expected a dramatic color difference between the two rivers, or even just a more violent swirling of water where the two rivers met. The Ohio comprises nearly 2/3rds of the Mississippi’s total volume, but it’s been a low water year for both bodies.

After the confluence, we were hoping river speed would pick up. It did not. Nevertheless, we paddled on!

We ended the night camped on the Kentucky side of the river, making the most of our proximity to Leah’s home state.

Partway through the 43rd day, we saw a large billow of smoke appear above the trees. It ballooned across the sky, lit from below with flickering orange light. Large particulates akin to corn husks fell while we debated whether or not we should call the fire department.

We decided that the passing barges were in a much better position to know
A) whether or not this much smoke is normal for this part of the river and
B) which part of the river we were in if it wasn’t normal!

We ended the day in New Madrid, where River Angel Bud Henry met us at the town’s boat ramp. He generously gave us a tour of the town, including a restored one-room-school house that he’d attended grade school in during the 1940s. With his help, we were also able to grocery shop and shower before heading back to camp to pack for hundred-mile-day. We scarfed down a large pizza before piling our sugary snacks across the park’s picnic tables. We were a little nervous camping in town, but all was quiet through the night.

Our chosen spot was evidently a great place to fish, as a fisherman snuck past us before we woke up the next morning (day 44). He eyed us while we took down our tents and set off to paddle.

Our lunch spot for the day was also a popular fishing spot. Rather than block the boat ramp, we tied up in the rocks and picnicked at the top of the hill. The boat ramp was in a narrow curve of the river, so the water was speeding past! Passing barges came closer to our boats than we would have liked, but all was well.

We continued paddling until five, stopping early to to prepare for 100-mile-day. It was too hot to sleep, or eat, or think, but we managed to get to bed by eight-thirty-ish before waking up at 11 PM.

Since 100-mile-day merited its own post, we won’t rehash it again here.

After the amazing and grueling experience of paddling for 24-hours-straight, we woke up to light rain around 4 am, thinking to ourselves, “it’s not supposed to rain today!” We nevertheless checked the weather app to be sure.

First glance: 18% chance of rain.

Reloaded phone: 55% chance of rain.

By the time the phone re-loaded, it was actively raining and our tent was blowing away. We were soaked, cold, and still very sleepy. I managed to go back to bed despite the drizzle, while Leah watched boats and waited out the storm.

Despite the downpour, the river still dropped in the night. We got up around seven-thirtyish and paddled about three miles to the Memphis Yacht Club Marina on Mud Island, a very paddler-friendly spot. There we left our boats before transporting the rest of our sodden belongings to a nearby hotel.

After checking in and drying off, we made our way to the Blues City Café, where we split a full rack of ribs and learned that we both dislike the standard southern bbq sides of coleslaw and baked beans. We nominate mac’n’cheese and more mac’n’cheese to be the new southern standard.

Several friendly strangers spoke to us as we walked back to our hotel, including a man who told us that “it’s called glee!” and invited us to dance across the street. I danced with him while Leah watched for cars.

Once back at the hotel, we re-organized our bags, did laundry, went to grocery store, had dinner, and had second dinner. We were assisted greatly by my mom, who made the drive up to Memphis when she got off work. After much visiting and errand-running, we finally made it to bed around midnight.

Day 47 (Community Paddle Day) has a separate post as well. We had a blast sharing the river with the kids and can’t recommend paddling with Matthew Burdine of Memphis Expeditions highly enough! We ended day 47 with a campfire and smores on the Arkansas side of the river.

As a Mississippi native, I was thrilled to have my home state on our left for all of day 48! In the morning, we stopped at Tunica River Park to refill our water. The park included a beautiful event space, boat launch, dock to tie up, and river history museum. We stopped for lunch at unmarked boat ramp shortly after. Though spirits started high, as the afternoon dragged on, heat and misery brought us down. By the time we got to camp, we were pretty ready for day 48 to end. Nevertheless, we retreated our clothes with permethrin (pronounced in our river rat dialect as pa-ruh-SEE-tuh-MIN-uh-fen) before collapsing to bed.

We paddled past the Helena Bridge on the 49th morning of our journey, catching a few moments of cell service through our brief brush with civilization. The 5 days above and below Memphis were characterized by heat, isolation, and slow moving water.

In an effort to get as many miles as possible each day, we attempted a ‘drifting lunch.’ Despite our hopes for this strategy of mile-recovery, we were plagued with stagnant air and slow current. We decided not to try this technique again. At least night paddling isn’t hot!

We made it to camp for the night, still on the Arkansas side of the river. Because we preferred shade in the evenings to recover from the heat of the day, we rarely camped on the Mississippi side of the river. Though this saddened me greatly, I’ve come to terms with the reality that a Mississippi River trip is not about connecting with the great state of Mississippi! It turns out that the Mississippi River is really more of a Midwestern thing?

In the hour it took to pull into camp, set up our tents, and start our campfire, about 15 barges passed us. This was our greatest barge density of the entire river trip. If anyone knows why barge traffic pops OFF on Thursday evenings, please tell us. Otherwise, we assume they were on their way to a captain’s conference downstream.

And though we have no pictures, please know: we could see the stars.

As previously mentioned, the 50th day of our trip was marked by storms. In the morning, we’d hoped to dodge the worst of the forecasted thunder. We kept just ahead of a cell until lunch, but we’re never as quick with our stops as we hope to be! Once we realized the thunder was on pace (read: outpacing) our forward progress, we stopped for safety. The rain drizzled and the thunder boomed intermittently for the rest of the afternoon. Mike Stewart played telephone, relaying information about the weather forecast. While we had enough service to text, we were far from able to pull up any websites or apps ourselves.

And so to make up for the time lost in the storm, we once again decided to paddle through the night. This was our least pleasant night paddle of the entire trip. We were wet, tired, and without the light of the moon due to clouds. We kept hitting sandbars. Fortunately, with Leah’s previous quicksand experience, we knew that we’d need to keep firm grasps on our boats every time we got out. The sand is never as solid as it seems!

As though that was not bad enough, we eventually paddled into a cloud of industrial off gas so thick and oily you could taste it. Choking and spluttering, we paddled several miles through the cloud, coming uncomfortably close to barges and rocks along the way.

We chose our final Mississippi campsite in desperation, near a road to a hunting club at the top of a rocky cliff.

Though it sounds bleak and awful in hindsight, and we hated it in the moment, we really do look back at this trip with fondness. Ironically - this was one of our longest no-fighting stretches of the whole trip. Too busy being mad at the circumstances to be mad at each other?

We wanted as much time as possible that afternoon off river to improve our chances of catching a local friend, so we got up at 4am to get on the river by 5:30 (we pack really slow). In the dark, we hit our paddles on a wing dam, which was scary but our boats glided right across. Buoys seemed to pop up out of nowhere - the night was quiet enough that we could actually hear the water gurgling around the buoys before we could see them. I was definitely regretting our decision to paddle before dawn.

Around sunrise, we noticed a barge trailing us, so we left the channel and hid behind an island while it passed. It worked pretty well, but when trying the same maneuver later in the day, I got stuck on a sandbar and had to get out and walk my boat.

We ate a really early lunch (9:30) at lock 25, where I left my water bottle behind - by the time I noticed, it was too far away to go back.

Marina manager Brian pulled up right as we got to the marina and gave us a key to the bathroom and boat ramp, then helped us haul our boats up to the shelter where we would be storing them overnight. He offered to bring us food or drive us to town, but we knew Scott was on his way, so we told him not to worry about us.

Scott and Kristen picked us up and drove us to their house where we started laundry, showers, etc, and let Mary know we'd arrived. She lives 40 minutes away, but came out to grocery shop with us anyway, then we hung out on the floor of Scott and Kristen's guest room for a while, before Mary needed to go home. Scott and Kristen took us out to dinner, then we came back and baked cookies and watched Midwestern classic Jerry and Marge Go Large1. Despite our best intentions, it was now after 1 am, so we quickly fell asleep.

Having stayed up late the night before, we slept in until 8, then made scrambled eggs for breakfast before Scott took us into town and dropped us off for some sightseeing. We started at the Gateway Arch - I'd never been to St Louis before, and didn't really know much about it. I was intrigued and a little confused by their explanation of the car that takes you to the top as a cross between an elevator, an escalator, and a Ferris wheel, so I looked it up after. Near as I can tell, they mean that the capsules are pulled along by cables like and elevator and the inner compartments are free to rotate so that the floor always points down like a Ferris wheel. Since the tram mechanism wasn’t designed until after the arch, it had to fit within the existing structure, which severely limited the options for how to do it.

It wasn't too crowded when we were there, but it was definitely getting busy by the time we were ready to leave.

We went to the old courthouse museum next, which had recently been redone, before walking to the city museum, stopping for lunch along the way.

I had never been to St. Louis before, so was wholly unprepared for the reality of City Museum: basically a giant playground weight rated for adults, the City Museum had 10 stories plus a roof deck of slides, towers, rope bridges and tunnels across various themes.

I think of myself as someone with no upper body strength, and I knew the month of sitting in a kayak all day every day was sapping both my lower body strength and my flexibility, but I was surprised to find it far easier to move around than I anticipated - almost like a month of paddling 10 hours a day is good conditioning or something.

The kids put us in our place right away, though, calling out to each other to warn them about the “old people blocking the path”. Harsh, but fair. They were frequently disgruntled to find us struggling through what they clearly thought of as “kid only” routes.

Scott and Kristen took us back to the marina that night, where we camped so that we could get an early start the next day - we had a couple of stops planned and really wanted to get to them in daylight.

The first of these stops was Piasa Bird - when Jacques Marquette was exploring the Mississippi River in 1673, he noted a pictograph on the shores of what is now Alton, Illinois that showed 2 of this scaly, horned creature with a human face and red eyes. The original pictograph is lost to time, but over the years, several portrayals of the Piasa Bird have covered the cliffs near Alton.

In the 1980s, a 9000 pound steel sculpture, installed by the Rotary Club, was installed to replace the murals (murals require constant upkeep because limestone is porous and the image wears away quickly). However, it lasted barely 10 years before its supports were too rusted to be safe along the cliffside, and has since been relocated to a local school several miles away. It was replaced by another mural of the mythic creature.

From the water, only the wing is clearly visible, and it’s not until we got closer that I understood what I was looking at.

This particular Piasa Bird guards a cave, with a shallow pool of standing water coating the entire floor.

Desperate to get the a museum before closing, we left our boats guarded by the Piasa Bird and Ubered to the Mel Price Lock and Dam, whose museum shared some information about the Mississippi River, barges, and locks. We were just a few days past the Illinois Confluence, and were rapidly approaching the Missouri Confluence. We just had this lock and then Chain of Rocks before the river should pick up considerably.

We just barely made it through the lock before dark, and even that only because we begged - there was slated to be a 4 or more hour wait, and there wasn’t really a good place to camp just north of the dam! Fortunately the lock operator took pity on us and snuck us in between barges. As soon as we were through, we crossed aggressively to the other side of the river, where we knew there was a good sandbar for camping. The water coming out after a dam is very turbulent, but by now we were used to it, and focused on our goal of getting to camp before it was too dark to pick a good landing spot, so we hardly noticed as we were pushed perilously close to the pylons protecting the lock from the main waterway.

Chain of Rocks was to be the last major hurdle. Early enough in the day we saw the bypass to the channel that that the barges would take and lock 27. We opted not to take that route, owing to our desire not to get squished like a bug along the edges of the canal - Because Chain of Rocks is an old rock dam (well, rapids that were turned into a rock dam), barges can’t exactly float over top of it, even in high water, and I would not want to be on the team trying to portage a barge, so a bypass channel was cut and a lock installed to allow commercial traffic to get through this section of the river. However, that bypass channel is meant for commercial vessels to enter and exit quickly - it wasn’t built for kayakers to spend hours getting close enough to radio the lock and beg for passage. Past paddlers, both who have gone the channel, and who have done the portage, have all unanimously recommended the portage, so that’s what we decided to do.

When we were approaching, we could hear the rush and gurgle of water, but still, it just looked flat - nothing to see. I was starting to get nervous (we had long since passed under the bridge that warned us of the dam) when the world warped in front of me. My eyes couldn’t agree on where the water was. I hugged closer to left bank, where we could see the takeout, trying to make sense of what I was looking at. I still couldn’t see the whitecaps, but the water was definitely at two different heights, starting somewhere soon - it looked like what happens in google maps when they join two satellite images that were taken at different times. It’s a good thing the takeout was so prominent, or we could have gone right over dam without noticing until it was too late!

We were greeted at the takeout by dozens of tiny sand-colored frogs, and I would say more “stared at” than “greeted” by several fishermen who did not seem to appreciate us stirring up the fish. A tip to fishermen: the paddlers will get out of your way faster if you help them move their boats/gear.

We took lunch here, reveling in the completion of our final (or so we thought) portage. The St Louis skyline appeared up ahead, and it seemed we could see it forever before we were finally paddling through the town. We hardly noticed when we merged with the Missouri River, but the St. Louis Arch was not so easily overlooked. There were helicopter tours right along the water and several bridges on either side of the arch. I know the Arch is the “Gateway to the West” but still it feels weird to me, since it is such a big milestone along the Mississippi River, that we don’t get to paddle through it.

We were a bit nervous about the port of St Louis, having been warned about how busy it would be with barges, and that there was no place to camp or get out of the water. Maybe it was just because the water was so low, but we found several places that looked like good camping, and as for the barges - most of them weren’t moving.

Since this was our first day south of the locks (yay!), we weren’t sure if the water level would change more in the night, so we looked for a campsite with something we could chain the boats to. The bank wasn’t very steep, so we couldn’t pull boats up very far, and we weren’t sure if we’d wake up to find them bobbing around. We needn't have worried - the water level didn't move hardly at all in the night.

We were excited for our first full day of river unimpeded by locks the next day and were shocked to find how much of a difference it made where in the river we were: Even just 10 yards to one side could put one of us in a faster stream that sent them rocketing ahead.

At lunch, we saw a man with a large pile of supplies on the back of his boat. Suspicious. We paddled over - intent to know if he was a fellow thru paddler - and he was! He put in at Minneapolis and started about a week after we did, but we were both doing the same trip. We chatted with him as we paddled for an hour or so, comparing notes on the river and the trip so far and showing him the wonders of the Greenland paddle, but ultimately split up to keep going our own paces. We saw him several more times throughout the day - he’s a faster paddler than we are, but paddles a lot fewer hours, and we never did see him again after that day.

The late afternoon saw an increase in wind that left us searching in vain for the faster part of the river, which seemed to be changing every few yards. This was far from the easy 60 mile days were hoping for, but we held on to a slim hope that it would get better when we hit the Ohio Confluence, since the Ohio accounts for about 2/3 of the volume of the Lower Mississippi River (spoiler: it did not help).

Very long.

Long enough that we’re 30 days behind on trip updates and are working on them all now!

And also long enough that at some point you run out of conversation, snacks, and sanity… and the only thing left to do is to play the same three songs on repeat until they either drive you more insane, or become your personal anthem.

This playlist is less “epic adventure movie soundtrack” and more “karaoke night gone feral.” We warn you now: after 2,000 miles in a kayak, even the most questionable tracks start to sound like masterpieces.

Below are songs for when:

• For when trying to do it alone seems impossible, but together feels maybe doable:

• For when awe hits so hard you almost forget your arms are tired

(and then you really want to share the experience with your loved ones back home):

• For when you want to miss your exit on purpose:

• For when hunger hits and pollution foam looks like a good idea:

• For when the dead coyote wasn’t enough of a warning and you quietly reconsider camping:

• For when the bank turns into a mudslide and dignity is optional.

• For when strangers bring snacks and suddenly you believe in humanity again.

• For when civilization ambushes the river and you cling to the tiniest patches of green for hope.

• For when you wonder if kayaking forever is a viable career move.

• For when you’re sharing a single mosquito net and 1.5 person tent between two people and a puppy:

• For when the trip ends and you realize that even though it’s over for you, the river keeps flowing for us all.

And that’s a wrap! More to come from the paddling log next week.

Matthew completed his own source to sea trip in 2016 and loves sharing the power of the river with others. After giving the kids a brief talk about the history of the river, he showed them how to use a canoe paddle before loading them into boats. Despite our brief foray in Willow’s dugout canoe, we were little help during the canoe technique explanations to the kids!

Most of the kids were still half asleep, but started to wake up when they realized they were going to have to get into the boats while the boats were still in the water.

With Bawker's help and protection, they all made it safely aboard. We got into our own boats (also safely), and paddled alongside them up to the bridge and back. When they worked together, and in sync, they could leave us in the dust!

They raced each other and asked us questions about the trip and 2 of them took a turn in our kayaks, getting a feel for the much smaller boats and the Greenland paddle. Despite the tight turns of the marina and the fact that it was nothing like the canoe paddle they had just been using, they were quick learners, building good habits and instincts about the new boats.

We had a blast with the group from Blessings for All, Empowered by Faith, and can’t wait to see where the world takes them next. These kids took to the river like glitter ducks to heads. If they can paddle the Mississippi River, what’s stopping you?

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We started at river mile 850, and made it all the way to 740. Completing a 100-mile-day was a personal goal for us both. When we were preparing for the trip, we read about 50 books and blogs of past paddling groups. As best we could tell, very few individual paddlers had ever done a 100 mile day in any river condition. If we hadn’t hit 100 yesterday, we were prepared to try again further down the river. Luckily, we won’t have to!

Both having been in marching band, we conceptualized the day as though it were divided into game-day quarters.

In the first quarter of the day, we had a few run-ins with buoys and rock dikes we didn't notice in the dark. We were thoroughly confused and nauseated by the blinking lights and rolling waves set off by the barges.

Sunrise marked the start of the second quarter, during which we stopped for breakfast and regrouped. There were several points in which we lost track of the river’s direction. When we checked the map, it told us we could go left, right, or straight— and due to low water levels, 2 out of 3 options were in fact sandbars, not river.

Lunch brought the start of the 3rd quarter and our first encounter with quicksand, in which Leah sank to her hips. Fortunately, she could pull herself out with her boat. The river alternated speeds and widths, at times zooming and others stagnant. We began to see steep cliffs in this section.

In the 4th quarter, wrists and elbows were starting to hurt, forcing us to pay attention to correcting our form. The glow of Memphis in the distance guided us through the home stretch. Our official start and endpoints are shown below, and a CSV file of all the waypoints is available upon request.

We ended the day camped just above Mud Island on the Arkansas side of the river. Today, we’ve made our way into town for resupply and rest. We’re never, ever doing this again!

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Help us meet our goal by matching our mileage this upcoming Sunday during which we plan to paddle for our longest day of the trip.

Match us at a dollar a mile (or more) by pledging your support in the comments below.

Or, if you think we're crazy, we'll bet you $80 (or a sum of your choice, total amongst all bettors not to exceed $1000) that we can do at least 80 miles in one day.

Okay, okay, the details:

• We’re counting miles midnight to midnight.

• Today, in 12 hours, 6am-6pm, we went 58 miles.

• This is south of the Ohio River confluence.

• We don’t expect to encounter any locks, dams, or other rivers that might change the paddling conditions.

• The current river gage forecast at Caruthersville (near our starting point) shows the river low and getting lower.

• We’ll be sharing our GPS log in a future post to prove our miles.

Comment on this post with your match pledge or bet to participate. We’ll be taking a short day on Tuesday to recover while also partnering with Memphis River Expeditions to share the river with kids from Grenada and Montgomery counties.

In case you, too, lost track of time, here's another opportunity to support supplemental feeding programs for schoolchildren. Just click the link below.

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While Saturday of Labor day weekend was kinda dead, we have heard horror stories about Labor Day boaters from almost every source we consulted before the trip, and our luck is good, but not “nobody else is celebrating the end of summer by soaking up the sun with a cold drink on the water” good - traffic was bound to pick up - so we weren't sure what kind of wait we'd have at the next lock. Fortunately, we got there early in the day, so there still weren't a lot of recreational boaters out, and almost no barges.

As we approached the lock, I could see the water on the other side. We've gone over random shelves in the river taller than this. The water flowed high above the edge of the dam. It looked for all the world like we could have just floated right over it with no issues, though I'm sure the lock operators would have had a heart attack. Inside the lock, we asked how tall the drop was. The answer: 6 inches - our shortest drop of the whole river.

It wasn't long, though, before the boaters were out in force. The problem with Labor Day boaters is twofold: 1) there's just a lot of them, and 2) they either don't know or don't care how to move around kayaks. We generally paddle near the edge of the channel, but one boat veered wide of me (moving outside the channel) as another boat passed in the middle of the channel. Neither boat slowed, and the wakes they generated competed with each other to see which could knock me over first. Normally, as a kayaker, you turn into the wake to keep you boat more stable, but that wasn't an option here. Fortunately the last month of paddling has drastically improved my ability to brace and keep my boat from tipping.

We listened to the Okee-Dokee Brother’s Mississippi River Adventure Album about their 2012 source to sea and added a few songs to our trip playlist. As we were listening, a boat we passed turned around to trail us. It was moving slowly, keeping pace, and we warily moved closer to hear what they were trying to say. They were just out for the day and wanted to know if we were doing the whole river. When we said we were, they gave us water, Coke, and money towards our cause. Guess Labor Day boaters have their benefits, too. They wished us luck and told us that the lock wasn't much further, which was good to hear since we planned to camp just past the lock and it was getting late in the day.

On the other side of Lock 18, we were really struggling to find a campsite - the water level was high enough that the sandbars shown in Google maps were about a foot below water, which was about a foot and a half lower than I was willing to pitch my tent. Just as we were getting desperate enough to camp in the yard of an unoccupied home, we spotted a cluster of boats around a light colored strip at the horizon - that had to be sand. Upon paddling over, we discovered to our relief that “Willow Bar” was not submerged, which provided us a good place to spend the night.

The next day was due to be a long day, so we woke up early, but we didn’t get on the water that early because I accidently rolled my glasses in the tent and had to take it back out to find them. Oops.

We had a lunch at a marina in Clinton and went into town for resupply, realizing that while Aldi is great at home, it doesn't carey two of our favorite luxuries: ice and disposable grocery bags. The next lock featured an hour wait and so many bugs - not mosquitos, just annoying papery insects looking for a place to rest … like the inside of my glasses… or up my shirt. Before we entered the lock, it was easy enough just to stay out of their way. Not so, when I was holding to the pin along the lock wall to keep us from bouncing around when the water level dropped. Before we entered, Sydney got out to use the bathroom, and got a tour of the whole facility, which was really neat, but unfortunately she wasn’t allowed to take pictures, so its secrets remain a mystery to the rest of us.

Even though it was getting dark, we weren't too worried because we had a campsite in mind - a river angel who owned a campground had reached out and offered us a spot at his site. When we arrived it was fully dark, but the dock was well lit. I did a double take when I saw the sign - it was shaped like Missouri. When did that happen? Some campers invited us to join them by their fire, and Sydney took them up on it for a bit, but I was tired enough to head straight to bed.

Early the following morning we saw our first vast expanse of sand in the middle of the river. We paddled and then waded over to explore, as the water near it got too shallow for us to float. There were dozens of what looked like clams as well as these long green tubes just off shore.

Even though we made good time that morning, when we got to lock 21, they told us it would be a 2 hour wait - our longest yet. We decided to pull over at a boat club and ask them to watch our boats (and chained them up - can’t be too careful) while we went into town. We went to a house tour of a unique building in the area called Villa Katherine.

Afterward, I went for a walk to explore the town while Sydney got her nails done, and we met back at boats just in time to have dinner before it was our turn to lock through. We camped at a public boat ramp just below the lock, since it was starting to get dark. As another boat was taking out at the boat ramp, they accidentally knocked a huge log into Sydney's boat where it was resting on shore, but fortunately it did no damage, it only freaked out the boaters, who kept apologizing and promising that the kayak was fine.

One day later, we got to check out Hannibal with the help of Andrew Wikstrom, a river angel who agreed to watch our boats while we explored town.

We went to the lighthouse, first, which, like any good lighthouse, was located at the top of a hill. We weren't allowed inside the lighthouse, but we got our workout just going up the 244 steps to its base.

Then we went to the Mark Twain Museum complex that contained the Samuel Clemens boyhood home, the Becky Thatcher house, and the Grant drugstore among others.

There were still a few things we wanted to see and do in Hannibal, but we decided to leave early to avoid having to wait to get our boats back, and it was a good thing we did - if we had waited we would have been caught in a thunderstorm. As it was we were still on the water when the thunder started and only just made it to shore before the rain. It was a bit earlier than we would normally have stopped but it was after 5, so by the time we waited to be well clear of the storm it would be too late to get back onto the river and hope to make it to another campsite.

The next day, shortly after we set out Sydney paddled over to explore a sandbar as before. Suddenly the water started roiling. A few foot and a half long fish jumped out of the water near her boat. That set them off for real - at least a dozen fish jumped out at her as she tried to paddle away. Scared but unhurt, she stayed away from sandbars the rest of the day. Can't say I blame her - it’s startling enough when one of those things jumps out of the water and hits your boat, let alone more than 10!

For lock 24, we used the pull chain because we really wanted to toot the horn our radio wasn't connecting. They let us through without comment, and we soon got to a very rocky campsite with a large hollow half a tree. After checking that I wasn't going to have any bunkmates, I pitched my tent on top. Honestly, it wasn't as uncomfortable as I was expecting, and I didn't roll myself off of it in the night, so really, what more could I ask for?

I'll send another update soon, covering the past 5 days, but by the end of day 35 we had gone 1077 miles! I still can't quite wrap my head around that. It seems not that long ago that we were pushing our way through reeds, unsure which way the river went, and now the river couldn't steer us wrong if it tried.

We're Sydney and Leah —friends since sixth grade, paddling partners, and the team behind this project to kayak the length of the Mississippi River while raising funds to fight childhood hunger.

In this conversation, we share how our friendship started, how paddling became part of our lives, and why this trip means more to us than just the miles. It’s about giving back to the communities that raised us, supporting kids in our home state, and creating something bigger than ourselves. We’re glad you’re here to listen.

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Scroll through the transcript to see pictures!

Transcript

[Sydney]

This is Sydney Matrisciano.

[Leah]

And this is Leah Pettit.

[Sydney]

We're the friends behind River Runs Full, a 2025 Mississippi River journey to raise money for the fight against childhood hunger in North Mississippi. Today we're going to cover who we are, how we met, and our thoughts about the trip. I know how I think we met, but I also want to hear your version.

[Leah]

So we met in sixth grade. I had just moved from Ohio. That was the first time I'd ever moved.

And I was not sure who I wanted to be? So that sort of led me to just withdraw into myself and not talk to anyone. And you were like, “I'm going to invite her to come sit with me and my friends.”

You were definitely the ringleader of whatever little group that was. And at first I was just sitting with your group, reading my book and ignoring your conversation. Then I was sitting with your group, reading my book and listening to your conversation. And then eventually participating in your conversation. Both went to MSMS, sort of reconnected there, and stayed in touch.

[Sydney]

I think we remember it very similarly. It was 2012. You're right.

We were both part of a special education program called LEAP: Learning, Enrichment and Progress. So one day a week, instead of having like our normal class schedule, we went to a separate classroom and we did different activities. And I remember when you joined that classroom (because it was a small group.)

There were only like 15 or 20 of us that spent that day together versus the bigger group of a couple hundred kids. And you're right. You did seem quiet.

And I remember thinking that the cover of the book you were reading was interesting. And that being why I was like, “oh my gosh, let's get her over here. Let's get her talking to us.”

So I think we invited you to sit with us at lunch. You're right. And I don't remember how long it took you to warm up to us, but I'm glad we stayed in touch. I'm glad we're friends now.

I think reconnecting at MSMS is definitely like how we strengthen the friendship and got in enough touch to be here six years, seven years, eight years later. So many years later, some length of time later, like planning this trip.

Talk more about what MSMS was.

[Leah]

It stands for the Mississippi School for Math and Science or Mississippi School for Mathematics and Science, if you want to be fancy about it. It's a public boarding school in the state of Mississippi. So you applied your sophomore year of high school to get in.

And it was just, there was a place with really good teachers, really interesting students. One of the things that was special about MSMS is they made the students aware of how privileged we were. If I had gone straight from Grenada to MIT, I think I would be just a much worse person, because I don't think that I was trained to notice the minor advantages, I guess, that I had over my peers.

[Sydney]

It's really interesting hearing the different lessons we took because my predominant lesson from MSMS was that you're getting these advantages and these opportunities to come back to your state and uplift everyone else and uplift the community. I don't know why that feels different from like notice, just to me, like notice and do something. Like I think they taught us both notice and do.

[Leah]

I think they did. I don't think that I have the same sense of duty to place that you do. I never did.

[Sydney]

You're very Midwestern.

[Leah]

I am very Midwestern, that's where I'm from.

[Sydney]

I know, and I'm still friends with you.

Okay. Speaking of being friends with you, that is almost the only reason I got into kayaking. I have to be honest, I don't know if I have told you this, but yeah.

I have a really visceral memory of walking through like your dad's garage when you guys were building your kayak and how excited you were and just how cool it seems to me. And so filed that away as like kayaks are cool, kayaks are interesting. And even though like growing up on the farm, we had ponds and lakes and there was always water around, we weren't really a big boating family, more of a fishing or swimming family.

And it wasn't until I moved to college and lived on like Michigan where there was a sailing center and like really easy access to kayak rental or other small craft rental, that I finally got involved with the paddling community and was able to like self-actualize and get interested in the hobby. But yeah.

[Leah]

That's interesting. I also got into kayaking from building my kayak.

[Sydney]

Surprise.

[Leah]

That's one of those things: you can't build something like that and then not use it. It's not an option.

I don't know why that was the woodworking project. That was probably picked for me, to be honest - the first time, anyway - the one when I was six, seven, eight? [edit: I was nine] I don't know - the little one.

And then the second time was because I got too big for the other one.

[Sydney]

You've been paddling or part of a paddling family for a long time. So what is a favorite memory from this hobby for you?

[Leah]

Yeah. I was thinking about that. I'm not sure.

[For you] Paddling is a very social thing because most of your paddling experience is with other people. For me, it's a very introspective sort of hobby. Most of my paddling experience is quiet stretches - like even if I'm with other people, it's not talking to each other except occasionally, “look at that turtle.”

The one that comes to mind for me, actually super recent (so that probably just tells me that I like paddling and I have a lousy memory), which is when I was paddling in Hong Kong. It's the first time I've been paddling in a foreign country. It was just a very different paddling experience than what I've had in the US.

For one thing, it's open water. I don't do very much open water. The cliffs were very beautiful.

There were lots of other people around, but not people I knew. I don't know. It was a really neat, unique experience: most of what I was paddling past was not familiar in any way. So it was exciting.

[Sydney]

It sounds like it. Yeah, you're right. I guess most of my paddling is social.

I was trying to think of an answer to this question too. And at first I was thinking about the work I do with Friends of the Chicago River, where it's trips - open to the public - just to teach and encourage familiarity with the waterways near us. We had a trip last summer in a housing project that was on the river.

And it was specifically youth-focused, first-time paddler-focused. Getting to see the kids transition from fear and suspicion of the water to, by the end of the two or three hours, having fun, trying to throw balls back and forth between the boats and splashing each other and having a good time is one of the more rewarding social paddling experiences I've had. But I had forgotten about a time I went paddling in high school and was one of the kids learning to paddle.

When I was in high school, our art program, which was led by Shirley Hamilton, did a collaboration with Robin Whitfield, the artist of Lee Tart Nature Preserve. And we didn't go to Lee Tart. We went to a different stretch of swamp or river.

But it was an art-focused paddling experience where we had a lesson on how to use natural pigments like berries, leaves, dirt. And we paddled, and we collected our pigment-making materials, and then we went back and did an art class on the bank. And that was also really formative and really communal because it was a class of like 20 or 30 of us learning together.

Yeah, you're right. Those two learning memories are really important to me, being social. Wow, this is fun to talk about together.

Let's start talking about the trip. Tell me why you wanted to do this trip at all.

[Leah]

The first time I wanted to do this trip, three years ago now. I wanted a couple of things. I wanted to decompress after college.

I also had just spent the last four years, most of the last four years, living in Boston after having spent the previous, I don't know how many, living in Mississippi, which are very different places. And I wanted to explore more about how much of that was north-south cultural differences versus how much of that was city-rural cultural differences. And the river has city and rural and north and south.

[Sydney]

That's so interesting. I didn't know that. Cool.

[Leah]

Okay. This was before. When I first had this idea, I hadn't picked where I was going to live yet.

I hadn't decided I was going to live in Kentucky right in the middle of, without making a decision. Yeah.

[Sydney]

Cool. I'm so excited to see if we still notice these differences. But yeah, tell me now.

I remember I pitched the trip to you - actually I don't remember how I pitched it to you, but I wanted to do it because I have a really long gap between taking the bar exam and starting work at the firm. And so I wanted to do something natural and immersive and beautiful where we could just be reflective and peaceful, like you were describing. And my family was worried about me doing it alone.

I only knew about people kayaking the river though, because of you. You had mentioned it to me when I visited you in Kentucky two years ago after you'd first bought the house.

Did I actually invite you or did I just tell you I was going to do it?

I think I invited you. I think I was hoping -

[Leah]

You told me you were gonna do it.

LOL. What? Really? Oh, that's so cruel of me.

Great. Okay. You take over the storytelling.

So I told you I was going to do it.

[Leah]

I said something along the lines of, “I would love to go if I could get that much time off work.” And you were like, “why don't you ask?” I was like, “I can't ask for two months off work.”

It turned out I could ask for two months off work.

[Sydney]

Okay. Wait. Great.

Because I always wanted you to be part of this trip. I'm glad I was so graceless as to not invite you. I'm glad your boss said yes.

[Leah]

You encouraged me to ask my boss for the time off and he granted it.

[Sydney]

It was amazing. Now, the second time that we're doing it, what's the motivation? Why do you want to do it this time?

[Leah]

Now it's because I feel like I'm getting old. Not physically old. Just emotionally old.

I haven't had any important projects, important drives in the last few years. Finished college now what? This was something I was excited about, a good opportunity to be like, yes, I can still do things.

I can still do fun, exciting things.

[Sydney]

Yeah, we can. Yeah. What are you most looking forward to about the trip?

[Leah]

I feel like I can't pick one thing because the things that I think I'm going to enjoy about the trip are going to come sporadically spread throughout. I know I learned on our test trip that I really enjoy morning paddling, so I'm definitely looking forward to more of that. I'm looking forward to some of the places that previous paddlers have stopped at, gone through, and just being there.

I'm looking forward to all the little mini goals, Northernmost Point, St. Louis, Chain of Rocks, all the little, “yeah, this is a milestone, I promise.”

[Sydney]

There's not one part that I'm most excited for. The whole trip is such an adventure. But I think the excitement for the people we're going to meet along the way, even on our short test trip, how the kindness of strangers, literally, when we needed the most, just appearing around the bend on a boat of their own, I'm excited to build those micro relationships and learn from the people, like North and South, rural and urban.

I'm also really excited for sunrises and sunsets. Those are genuinely some of my favorite natural phenomena. And when I'm in Chicago, I don't make the effort to get up early enough or go outside at dusk to watch the world changing, happening.

And so I'm really excited to just be immersed in nature and see those things for two months straight every single day. You can't ignore it through a tent, right? But I'm also really excited for the community paddle day that we're planning south of Memphis.

I think that bringing the kids on the water and providing the same experiences that I described enjoying - just being able to share love of paddling and love of the river with people from our hometowns and from our communities is going to be so special. And so I can't wait till we get to that point. That's going to be a huge milestone to me of, “yes, we did this. The trip is almost done. I promise.”

[Leah]

You: “That's the part I was here for. I can go home.”

[Sydney]

Yeah. You thought I was going to ditch you at the concert. Really, it's the paddle day.

No, I'm just so excited for this trip.

And I'm really glad that we are partnering with two charities to get to use this trip for something bigger. Because it's one thing to go off in the woods for two months for no reason, just because you want to. And another to use it to support community.

You know that the two charities that we're partnering with are Feeding the Future Mississippi and Blessings for All Empowered by Faith out of Montgomery County. And they both do a bunch of different services for the communities that they serve. But their primary goal is feeding programs.

So we're raising money in support of their feeding programs so that they can expand their programs and include more children and branch out to additional towns and schools and communities. The reason we chose these charities is because MSMS was very important to us and we wanted to do something related to school, but you can't focus in school if you aren't fed.

[Leah]

Like I told you before, I want the money that we raise to be meaningful, to feel confident that money is going directly into the community.

[Sydney]

In Ms. Calbrina’s, she makes a point to say she's not getting paid, her mom's not getting paid, none of the volunteers are paid. Every dollar that goes to her organization goes to the kids or goes to the community somehow. And I think these two charities do fit the hope: because they are so small and because they are really tied to the community.

Tell me something you love about Mississippi, because I actually do want to know this.

[Leah]

I really appreciate the fact that kindness isn't earned or deserved in Mississippi. Even people who don't like you will help you out.

It’s not, “I don't know that person, I'm going to help them.” It’s, “I actively dislike that person, but I'm still going to help them.”

Us Midwestern folks, we'll help people we don't know. But if we don't like you, you're out of luck.

[Sydney]

Harsh. Wait, I think there was some beautiful poignancy in kindness not being earned or deserved. I have asked this question of a lot of people, not just people for the river trip, but have not tried to answer it myself, because it's not that I love any one thing about Mississippi or that I love it particularly.

It's like where I'm from, everything that shaped me into who I am as Mississippi. How can I not love it? But something specific about the community: What I love about Winona or Montgomery County is the way that they've cared for my family for so many years.

When we went through hard times in the 2010s, churches stepped up, random people stepped up to help us move and get us the resources we need. Anytime something good happens in my life, I've got a whole town there to celebrate me, to cut the clippings out of the newspaper and send them to my grandparents, or give me a hug at church and ask what the new thing is. So I think it's that feeling of family and community, that place engenders, and the love that I feel from those people.

Because they do share it freely, both with people of the town and people who aren't. That's ultimately what this trip is about for me. I mean, it's more than the miles.

It's about love for the places that raised us, for the people who poured into us, and being able to return that spirit of generosity and care to the next generation of kids. It's kids that we hope are going to grow up knowing that they matter. We're paddling for them, for their full stomachs, their full hearts, and for futures that feel wide open.

[outro music]

Thanks for joining us today to learn more about our journey, River Runs Full. If you want to be part of that love and action, visit riverrunsfull.com to learn more about each charity that we're supporting and to donate. You can also donate on our GoFundMe page.

Every dollar helps feed a child, and every child deserves to feel full.

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Before the trip began, we talked about the lessons we expected from the experience. Leah hoped to grow more comfortable accepting help from others, and I hoped to lengthen the time span between my reaction and response (what I've been calling bomb-proofing!). Now that I no longer flinch at every jumping fish, I've been thinking more about the auxiliary, or unintentional, lessons of the trip.

We've entered a stretch of river where it's much more difficult to find campsites each night. The water is high for this time of year, and the sandbars we can see on the satellite map alternate between overgrowth and flooding. We may plan to stop at 5 and not find a dry, clear spot until 7:30. One section of the satellite map was taken in the winter-- making it useless to us for finding a spot! Instead, we've begun to rely on observations of plant life to show the way. Both native and invasive species have proved useful guides.

Purple loosestrife is one such plant. It was accidentally introduced to the region in early 1800s, by frontier families who carried to relieve dysentery. It spread further through a 1940s planting program intended to provide pollen for honey bees. It's helpful for distinguishing patches of broadleaf arrow-head, a leafy aquatic plant, from solid ground, because loosestrife grows right at the island's edge. If you can push through the arrowhead to the loosestrife, you'll probably find a solid place to pitch a tent!

However, arrowhead has its uses. Because the patches create a barrier before an island's edge, they dissipate wave energy and protect shores from erosion. The plant also produces an edible tuber, similar to potato in taste and texture. Unfortunately the tubers won't be ready to harvest until October, well after we've passed through this area.

Sandbar willow, also called Coyote Willow, is another sign of a bad campsite. The leafy bushes are densely packed, creating an ideal environment for mosquitoes to spawn. The willow is a pioneer tree, growing in thickets on recently flooded sandbars. It's very frustrating to see a sandbar on the satellite map and arrive to an impenetrably thick stand of willow!

Though our favorite camp sites are wide, empty sandbars, spotting bur-cucumber beneath the riverbank's tree line is the next best thing at the end of a long day. The native vine spreads quickly across low, recently disturbed sand, signaling a level spot and soft ground cover for our tents.

As we paddle on, we'll continue refining our ability to read the world around us. I suspect we can learn more from the plants than simply where to camp. Abundance, reciprocity, and interdependence weave throughout our experiences each day and are reflected in the river’s ecosystem. Trip Log Below:

Day 25

Day 26

Day 27

Day 28

Day 29

Tony’s Daily Prayer:

I will not take that bitter thrust which rent my heart today, As from an earthly soul, though it was meant that way.

But I will look beyond the tool because my life is planned.

I take the cup my Father gives. I take it from His hand.

He knows and even thus allows these little things that irk.

I trust His wisdom and His love. Let patience have its work.

Though human means have brought the sting, I firmly take this stand.

My loving Father holds the cup. I take it from His hand.

Now those who watch may wonder why these things do not disturb.

I look right past the instrument and see my Lord superb.

The trials which would lay me low must pass through His command.

He holds the outstretched cup to me. I take it from His hand.

One of the hardest parts of the trip for me has been the separation from my faith community. I miss the weekly rhythms and relationships of home. But this trip is a once in a life time experience (at least by this mode of transit. #houseboat2065), and I wouldn’t want to spend this gap between bar and work any other way. Even in the loneliness, I’ve been so blessed to meet and pray with fellow paddlers, folks along the river, and family and friends through the phone. We were not meant to do this life alone, and I’m so grateful for the ways in which the Spirit moves through each of you. One month down, one to go!

Day 30

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Last you heard from us, we had just spent a wonderful night under an actual roof instead of outside in the pouring rain and crackling storms - the last of many that week. Reluctant to return to the world of dark and damp, we dawdled a bit in the morning and didn't leave Kent’s place until pretty late in the afternoon. Jim brought us into town that morning while it was still sprinkling, when he brought us our resupply box, so we picked up some groceries, and replaced my missing hat and bug net. I kinda wanted the obnoxious green hat with yellow sharks, but for some reason they only made that in children's sizes, so it didn't fit, and I had to settle for a generic beige paddling hat. Our only goal was to make it to the start of lake Pepin, so that the the next day we could get all the way across, so it wasn't a big deal that we left late, and it meant we got to stay dry.

Lake Pepin is a 20+ mile lake that turns into a brutal wind tunnel at times. This could easily put us in a bad mood and behind schedule. Fortunately, the forecast showed no more than a 4 mph wind all day, and actual weather bore that out - it was dead calm - no breeze, no current, just 20 miles of paddling on flat water. We practiced our sliding stroke a bit to amuse ourselves and also keep ourselves cool. I don’t know how much we improved but we definitely got soaked! And it took our minds of the monotony of the task.

We arrived at the town of Wabasha a bit later than we had hoped, but still earlier than we had feared. We docked at one of the local restaurants, and they agreed to watch our boats while we snuck into the National Eagle Center before it closed, as long as we came back to eat afterward.

The Eagle Center was very cool - it would have been nice to be able to stay longer, but really we were just lucky to get the time we did. The handlers live on-site, so they get to know each of the eagles there very well, and answered a lot of our questions about eagles and the center itself. The upstairs section shared about dozens of cases of eagles abducting children of the last 3 centuries.

The Center presents it as nothing but slander, meant to shock and scare the public, building on existing mythos to discredit the noble creature, but we think they might be a bit biased in their reporting, so you should probably keep your kids inside - you never know when an eagle might snatch them up.

After the eagle center announced it was closed and ushered us out, we wandered the streets, and popped into a local chocolate shop we had heard good things about. We picked up some Wilbur Buds, which are a type of chocolate nugget shaped sorta like a Hersheys kiss (but made with better chocolate), as well as assorted other sweets. We made our way back to the restaurant, ate a quick dinner, and set off to find the next available island.

The next day we got through 3 locks in one day, which was a record for us - the first one, Lock 4, we reached before 8 am, and we were able to lock right through. Lock 5 had a longer wait, so we got out and ate lunch while a tow moved its containers in phases through the lock, since it was too big to fit all at once. Lock 5A came sooner than we expected, and while we did have a short wait, it still meant we hit the town of Winona before 5 oclock.

We stopped just for a few minutes. I stayed with the boats while Sydney explored town, but shortly after we left, we decided we wanted to explore a little more, so we took the boat ramp just outside of town, I chained my boat to the dock, and we asked some of the people hanging out there to keep an eye on them while we went back into town and explored more.

That night we had our first campfire of the trip, and it was nice to just sit around it chatting and watching the flames until well past my bedtime.

The following day, we got to Lock 6 pretty early into the day, but since the lock was closed for planned maintenance it was lunch time by the time we had completed the portage - our last planned portage besides Chain of Rocks! Fortunately, our second lock of the day, lock 7 was open, and after a short wait, we went right through.

As we approached the town of La Crosse, we saw our first river cruise ship: the Viking. We heard music, and were speculating whether it was coming from the park or the boat. We couldn’t really see much in the park, but surely if it was coming from the boat, the poor occupants would be deafening for us to hear it this far away. Google informed us that Thursday nights in the summer held a an event called "Moon Tunes” where local bands would come play.

We decided to chain our boats to a tree on the opposite side of the river and go check it out. The event didn’t start until 5:30, so we explored town a bit first, mostly just looking at all the historic buildings that these river towns tend to have, then made our way over to the festival, where we saw the fire twirling team warming up on our way to get food.

As we ate, we listened to the music and watched the little kids running around - kicking a soccer ball or taking a ride on a little train that had been set up to drive around the large open field. Sydney practiced her handstands, and we stayed until the first firespinning act, but we left right after that so that we could be sure to find a campsite before it got too dark to see.

The campsite we chose wasn’t very far down the river. I went to bed pretty quickly but Sydney stayed up and swam a bit and sat on the log overlooking the river.

When we woke up in the morning, we started with solo paddle time, but soon got separated by a barge. I waited on the riverbank until Sydney paddled up, then we decided to take a morning break at the swing before continuing to paddle. It was right there, after all, and we were already stopped…

There were so many flocks of birds making use of the widening river, and most did not seem at all perturbed by our presence.

At the lock, we paddled in alongside another group out on a motor boat for the day. We're now solidly in the region where more people are surprised than not that we're going all the way to the Gulf. Stopping for lunch on an island, we found a log bobbing up against the shore. We pulled it up a bit further to give ourselves a place to sit while we ate, and we joked that this stick would make a fine addition to my collection of river debris Griffin was going to take home with him. I mean... we were only ~25 miles from where we were meeting him… I can do anything for 25 miles…

10 minutes later it was tied to the front of my boat and I was pushing off for a short test paddle - just a few circles close to shore to get my bearings. The Y stuck pretty far over the cockpit and the other end extended past the nose of my boat. It was noticeably tippier in choopy water and during turns. But I could get in, and it could float. Really, what more could I ask for?

The only problem was that I was super slow: A Greenland paddle works by dipping the whole blade in the water up to the loom, where your hands are, but with this stick in my way, I was only able to get about half the paddle in on either side. Sydney lent me her European paddle, and we picked up the pace. So I guess that means I need to ammend my earlier review in which I said “GPs are the best and Euro paddles have no place in my life” to this: if you’re ever hauling something bulky on top of your boat near the cockpit (like a log or a small child), the European paddle is the way to go - otherwise, stick with Greenland.

We lost track of time a bit and ended up near dark just past Lansing looking for a good place to camp. We paddled over to the islands in the middle of the river, and found to our dismay that many of them were not really accessible - there were thick grasses in deep water surrounding many of the islands, and some weren’t really islands at all -the grass just got really thick there. The water level is a little high right now, which means many sandbars are about a foot underwater, which is about a foot more water than I'm willing to sleep in.

Fortunately, amidst the grasses and false islands, Sydney spotted a run of trees that the grasses didn’t seem to go all the way up to and cut in to get a closer look. What we found was a really nice campsite that clearly sees regular use from other paddlers - there was nowhere to dock a motorboat, but on the other side of the island was a good spot to pull up a kayak or a canoe. There were a couple of campfire rings (though everything was too wet for us to get a fire started) and trampled grasses that made for a great space to hang out and to pitch our tents.

Saturday, we only had to paddle about 3 miles to the Schroeder’s home, where I would be staying while Sydney visited with her husband and friends in Galena, so we took a lazy start, not bothering to start packing up until around 8 am, just watching the water and plants sway in the current. It was peaceful and felt like we had all the time in the world (is this what vacation feels like?).

Once we got moving we found ourselves carried along by a strong tailwind (best paddling conditions… except when you are super front heavy or top heavy. Problem: I was now both). Keeping my boat straight was nearly impossible. At one point the stick twisted on my bow, so that the front end was no longer centered, but fully hanging over the left edge!

My boat rocked precariously, as I tried to balance the weight shift with my body weight. Too far - time to rock back the other way and cling to the log to prevent it from slipping further. Sydney paddled over to see what she could do to help and I slowly released my grip on the log - it stayed in its new position. It was too dangerous to try to push the log more centered in the middle of the river - the chance of flipping me instead of moving the log was too great, and I did NOT want to be flipped. But the shore line was rocky and steep, and the current fast, even by the edge, so I didn’t want to try to land to fix it either. Knowing we didn’t have much further to go before I could get to a real dock and after taking a few tentative strokes towards shore I found that I could still paddle with it, so I adjusted to the new weight balance of the boat and kept making my slow progress towards our target. We made it the whole way, and Dick helped us unload our gear. See, I told you I could do anything for 25 miles.

He and Deb made us lunch and introduced us to their two dogs, Bo and Gus. Griffin arrived around lunchtime too, and looked dubiously at the stick Sydney had voluntold him to take home, but ultimately he agree to take it when he dropped Sydney off the next day. It had already made it 25 miles by boat - what was another few hundred miles by car between friends?

He also took our portage wheels (so glad to be rid of them) and a few other things that we decided we either hadn’t used or didn’t need.

I spent a few hours cleaning the grass, mud, and sand out of the boats, and doing laundry, then Deb showed me around town. I picked up superglue and Danish oil at the local hardware store so I could better keep up with my paddle maintenance, and some more food supplies.

There was also local Everything store called Horsefalls, which we arrived at just as it was closing. Being inside was a bit surreal, especially that close to closing: the aisles were narrow and of inconsistent lengths, the goods varied from part favors to water toys to cooking supplies to gardening to you name it. Some of the lights had already been turned off, so wandering through trying to take it all in, almost felt like a dream sequence. I picked out a pack of playing cards I wanted, but the owner waved me off when I tried to pay, and told me it was his gift to me and to enjoy my trip!

Then we went out to eat at a the local pizza place with some of their friends, Rita and Trent, and went back to their place afterward to sit on their beautiful screened in porch that overlooked the river and continue chatting (seriously, I feel like I need a screened in porch now, though I don't really have good place to put one).

When we went back to the Schroeder’s place, it was starting to get late. Normally, the tradition would be to watch a movie called “Captain Ron” but we all decided 2 hours was far to long to still be awake so we watched an episode of “Itchy Boots” (one of their favorite YouTube shows about a young woman solo traveling all over the world on her motorcycle) instead.

I slept so soundly that night. Soft cozy bed and no need to get up early the next morning? Excellent way to start the day. I set to work on some paddle maintenance, repacking bags, and writing this post. It was peaceful, but I was itching to get back on the water.

Around midday, Bruce and Michelle arrived and informed me that I was incorrect - I did NOT want to be on the water - the tailwind from yesterday had continued and even picked up a bit, with gusts up to 25mph. They were glad to be getting off the water.

Sydney and Griffin showed up a few hours later, and we loaded up boats, tied up the largest member of my stick collection inside Griffin’s car so it'd be less likely to go through the windshield if he slammed on the brakes (I’m happy to report that it caused no major incidents, though apparently it did a still have a few… resident bugs… that delighted in terrorizing Griffin during his drive), and supped together with the Schroeder’s and the Labes's, before setting off to try to get out of everyone's hair.

We found a great campsite on an island just past Lock 9 and built a fire to pass the evening. We cooked some sweet potatoes Deb gave us in the sand under our fire, and a family came out and set off some fireworks nearby.

This trip has been full of challenges—heat, bugs, damp clothes, and the relentless pace of moving downstream. On top of that, we’re far from our support networks, relying on each other as we spend more time together than ever before in our 15 years of friendship. Naturally, that means some bickering. But honestly, we expected it. Spats are part of any close relationship, especially when you mix in the stressors of the outdoors and the intensity of this adventure. The good news is, we’re finding ways to work through it. Each argument teaches us more about how to communicate and strengthens the “emotional dictionary” we’re building together. The disagreements haven’t disappeared, but the conversations afterward have become more intentional. As the Finns would say, “Ei kastunut vettä pelekee:” the wet don't fear the water.

We’ve got tees, totes, and more -- and 100% of the profits go directly to fighting childhood hunger in North Mississippi. Every purchase supports the communities we’re paddling for. We’ll have a longer update on paddling progress Monday, but fundraising the fight against childhood hunger is the heart of the trip. Thank you for your support donating and spreading the word!

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Behind the Branding

Every good team has a name, but we didn’t choose a name for our paddling team until about a month before leaving for the river. A few early contenders included “Paddle for Plenty,” “Headwaters to Home,” and “Fuel the Flow.” In the end, we polled friends and family and landed on River Runs Full. It felt like the right fit — river-related, hopeful, and grounded in our mission to raise funds for hungry kids.

After naming our expedition, we started roughing out different visual concepts. Our goal has always been to support local organizations in the towns we grew up in, so the design needed to speak to that. The initial concepts tested different shapes, playing with the idea of topographic lines and looking for ways to reflect the geography of home.

Once we decided to use the outline of the state of Mississippi itself, we had to choose which section of the river to highlight. We chose the section of the river near Greenville, Mississippi, because it lines up almost exactly with our hometowns of Grenada and Winona. It felt right to center the logo on the stretch of river closest to where we’re from.

The in fill draws inspiration from soil survey maps. Soil is a layer of geography we often overlook, but it carries so much history — in its color, composition, and connection to place. In our part of Mississippi, you’ll find deep red clay soils, known as ultisols, which form over long periods in warm, humid climates where intense weathering leaches away nutrients, along with golden yellow loess, a fine, windblown silt deposited after the last Ice Age. These soils shape what grows, how people live, and what the land can offer.

We want Mississippi to be a place of abundance and opportunity, where every child ends the day nourished and ready to thrive. Our final logo captures the spirit of our journey:

Grab Yours Today

If this story resonates with you, please consider donating directly or checking out our merch. Wearing the design doesn’t just show local pride-- every purchase makes a real difference in the lives of Mississippi’s most vulnerable. The profits of every sale goes directly to fighting childhood hunger, fueling hope and growth for the kids who need it most.

Grab a bottle, tote, or tee today and join us in carrying this mission forward—because together, we can help build a Mississippi where every child thrives.

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Despite the rain, the last several days have been our favorite of the trip so far. We’ve been passing through a stretch of urban paddling, meeting lots of new friends and making time to explore off river.

On Friday, we passed through the Coon Rapids Dam and Visitor Center. The dam was built in 1913 and is now the anchor for a well-developed recreational area. We met several friendly fishermen and cyclists as we portaged. So far, no one that we’ve met has been all that surprised to hear we’re headed to the Gulf. We aren’t sure if that will change or not as we head further South.

We ended the day at Island of Peace Regional Park, a spot with two rope swings and a hammock with a sign indicating it was intended for all to enjoy. We were visited by two fishermen taking shelter from the ever-present storms as well as a small dog that swam across the channel to say hello, leading us to nickname this campsite ‘Visitor Island.’

It continued raining throughout the night and into the morning. Though we’re willing to paddle in rain, we draw the line at active thunder and lightning. We waited until there were no lightning strikes within 20 miles for 30 minutes before setting off, cold, wet, and getting wetter.

As we paddled into the Minneapolis city proper, the rain began to slow. I loved paddling through the city- so much to look at! So many people to talk to! And so, so much trash. We picked up what we could, missing plenty, and filled a bag by the end of the day.

Another neat part of city paddling is the number and variety of bridges. Throughout the trip, Leah is photographing every bridge we see. At one point in Minneapolis, there were 5 bridges in one picture! A new record.

Our favorite ‘bridge’ was a rainbow that appeared at the end of one of the many showers.

In Minneapolis, we made our final portage with wheels. It was a doozy- a mile and a half long walk with fully loaded boats through a bustling park. We broke the walk into sections, stopping at a museum and farmer’s market along the way.

Back on the water, we headed to our first lock. A lock is a like an elevator for boats. You begin by requesting passage from the lock master and awaiting instructions to enter the chamber. Once inside, the doors lock, and water is drained away. I didn’t know what to expect, but the lowering sensation is smooth and gradual. It’s almost imperceptible, barring the visual cue of being suddenly 35 feet below the chamber’s edge!

Our first lock went particularly smoothly. River Angel Mark Wagar happened to be paddling near the lock that day. He answered questions, gave advice, and escorted us to the chamber. Thanks, Mark!

After the lock, the first few miles of riverbank were filled with families enjoying their Saturday afternoon. Dogs and children played in the water, while adults crowded around camp fires and fishing poles.

Eventually, the river grew more industrial. Factories and barges lined the banks. The air smelled foul. We didn’t see any wildlife or trees for several miles. We pushed past that section to camp on Pigs Eye Island. The next morning was more of the same.

However, the day markedly improved when we began catching up to other source to sea paddlers. We met Bruce and Michelle Labes, who generously treated us to hot tea and a dry place to sit.

Later that same day we met Lyle Scott along with Willow Bill and his paddle partner Jill. Willow is escorting a 22 foot dug out canoe back to fellow Mississippian John Ruskey, River Gator and Carver Extraordinaire. He sent us, along with Lyle, out for a spin.

The dug-out is the Cadillac of watercraft- luxurious, solid, yet turns with a feather touch. We spun in circles for a bit learning how to paddle as a team, but eventually found our stride and coasted back to shore. I have never been in a craft like that before and likely won’t again. We will be riding the high of Willow’s generosity and exuberance for the rest of the trip!

Our day ended at mile marker 800.5, where we took shelter on the living room floor of Angels Jim, Kent, and Patricia’s riverside home. We were thrilled to be out of the thunder and rain.

In the morning, Jim generously took us to town for laundry, groceries, and Menards. We’ve lost (and broken) many things so far on this trip. Some of which we had backups or could fix, some of which needed to be fully replaced. Re-armed with supplies, we’re setting off now ready to take on Day 18.

(Misc Trip Things)1

1. Together, we’re a full tanned hand

2. Thank you to everyone who’s ever hung a rope swing on a river bank

3. White Willow are my new favorite trees.

4. wild places and woodland creatures live on even when city is all I can see

5. Frolics and detours for the win. #FBLG forever 💜

6. Emergent adulthood is almost over and I’m so abundantly grateful for where I’m landing. Life cannot possibly be better than this.

7. ‘nough said

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Day 8, we got to paddling for a bit, me looking forward with excitement to our first stretch of river with full days of no ground support, Sydney lamenting our break from interacting with people. Things started off well, with dark clouds hanging in the sky well past sunrise. Sydney spotted an old abandoned barn, and we decided to go check it out, but when we were done exploring, we noticed lighning and checked to radar to see that a storm was moving in. We decided to go back to the barn to wait out the storm.

After we got back on the river, we soon passed a takeout and a house with a small dock, both with signs that said 'paddlers welcome’. We probably could have come knocked on their door to wait out the storm, but we couldn’t have known that at the time. The rest of the day was very tranquil. We passed Ms. Keto campsite (and did not stop) but still our campsite was pretty buggy.

The next day, when we stopped for lunch, we met Olivia, a really friendly woman with a beautiful garden right off a public access boat ramp. She gave us fresh tomatoes from her garden and refilled our water with cold fresh water from inside, and wished us the best as we continued our journey.

Later that day, we noticed a flood cutoff but couldn’t find an easy way to get a better look at it safely - we could hear rushing water, and it was marked on our map as a dam with no portage, so it made us nervous that we couldn’t see the edge. We pushed a bit past our original planned campsite so that we could stay somewhere with showers and access to town. It was a long day, but well worth it for the restaurant meal and chance to feel clean(ish).

The next day, we decided to take it slow: we were a bit ahead of schedule, but frustrations were high and we had started to get into a bit of a spat, so we decided a less stressful day might do us some good. We still fought, but there were good points too: trying (and failing) to climb a tree, swimming in the river, sleeping in, and getting to camp early were all nice.

Day 11 we continued to try to troubleshoot our relationship, starting out the day with a few hours of paddling with space between us. I saw a doe and fawn swimming in the river. When we met back up, the sun was out, there was a thick haze in the air, and a slight headwind.

It quickly became clear that our time apart did not solve anything, either. We talked about it some more, completed our first portage without outside assistance, then made it to camp early enough for a game of cards before an early bedtime for me.

It stormed that night, waking me up around 10pm. Sydney was still awake, but learned to her dismay that her tent was not sufficiently staked to keep the storm out: one of the poles caved in letting water gush in from the rainfly. Fortunately it was a short storm, but it was a wet night.

On Day 12, we tried again with a few hours of solo paddling with regular check-ins, based on the learnings of previous days, and made it all the way through lunch and to the beginning of our portage before we were squabbling again. The morning was full of fast river that threaded between and around islands - I think it was my favorite river topology so far this trip.

The Little Falls portage was our first portage through town, which was neat, but it was also far longer and more physically demanding than the one we had already completed. We overcame our irritation with one another more quickly that day than in previous days: if nothing else we were learning to recognize the fights. Still, we spent much of the afternoon trying to figure out how to stop them entirely.

Our goal for the night was Robbie and Abby Skiba’s house, which is right before Blanchard Dam. They had recieved our resupply packages, and offered us showers, dinner, beds, and portage assisance for the dam. After scouting the portage route, we were very grateful not to have to carry boats along the steep and narrow footpath, or wheel them along the long gravel road.

Rob helped us load our boats into his truck and carry them down to the river after the dam the next morning. After Rob came back with a missing wheel pin for Sydney's portage wheels, we set off, knowing we had up to 3 more portages left to do that day.

Sartell Dam was next, almost halfway through the day. We arrived in high spirits, and a little curious, because some police officers were setting up a roadblock around our portage route. Apparently some fishermen had found a car that might be connected to a cold case from the 60s, and the police were looking for bodies just upstream of the dam.

We scoped the two put in options: we could walk a few hundred feet, then carry the boats down a steep rocky bank, or we could carry them about 3 times that distance and still have to carry them down a steep rocky bank. We chose the former, but while scouting the second route, we noticed a restaurant called the River Boat. With our own boats safely protected by a police barricade, we decided to go in for lunch before we got on with the portage. Robbie very kindly brought us the rest of the supplies that had not arrived yet, then we quit stalling and set to work emptying our boats, carrying them down to the water and repacking them. It was longer and more difficult than I was expecting - already I can tell my legs are weaker than when we started this trip - but we got back in the water and set off for Saulk Rapids just a few miles later.

We encountered some mild rapids even before the typical scouting point. From the Overlook, it seemed like there was a path through the rapids. We /might/ be able to make it. But neither of us wanted to bank on “might” so we decided to portage - we needed to go into town for tortillas and protein bars anyway.

By the time we set off again it was almost 5 pm, but we were only a few miles from our last portage, and still very much in town, so there wasn't a good place to camp.

The takeout wasn't bad, put there was a steep and winding staircase down to the put-in. We partially unloaded the boats, then slid them slowly down. The stairs- the front edge of the stairs is worn away a bit from countless others who did not lift their boats to carry them down to the bottom. By the time we had boats down, it was approaching dark. We set up tents at the put in, ate dinner and called it a day. Even with all of the labor intensive portages and long hours, we fought less that day. We may be starting to get the hang of it.

Yesterday marks 2 weeks into the trip. We slept in a little due to our late night the previous day, and quickly encountered a strong headwind. The current was stronger though, and we made it to our designated campsite before 2pm. We decided to go to the park a few miles downstream to refill our water and wait out the impending storm, but the park didn't have water, and the storm never came. A friendly neighbor let us use their hose to refill, and Sydney called the local police to see if it would be OK if we ended up camping in the park. The police kept shuffling her around and never gave a straight answer, so when the rain passed and it became clear the storms weren't going to hit, we paddled a few more miles to an uninhabited island in the middle of the river and stopped for the night.

We've had a few repairs so far, but nothing too major:

Heading into week 3, we still have 2 portages left and we'll get to go through our first lock. Hopefully we'll continue to encounter new and exciting river phenomena, continue to meet kind and helpful strangers, and continue to grow as friends and people.

Sydney sat down with Calbrina Woods, founder of Blessings, to learn more about her work with the group. From summer meals to holiday toy drives, Calbrina’s story shows how one person’s dedication can grow into a lifeline for so many.

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Scroll through the transcript to see pictures!

Transcript

[Sydney]

This is Sydney with River Runs Full, a 2025 Mississippi River journey to raise money for the fight against childhood hunger in North Mississippi. I'm joined today by Ms. Calbrina Woods from Blessings for All, Empowered by Faith.

Thank you again for doing this. I was hoping you could start by just telling me a little bit about yourself and about the organization just in general.

[Calbrina]

My name is Calbrina Woods. I'm originally from California, San Diego. I moved here to Mississippi about 15 years ago.

My dad is from here and he got sick, so I came back to take care of him. And in the midst of taking care of him, six months after I moved here, he died of diabetes and kidney failure. But the kids were already in school.

I have two girls. They were both already in school. I noticed that it was just some programs around here that I was used to in the city that helped me as a single parent that wasn't here in Mississippi, in the area that we're in.

So I started implementing those programs and I noticed the youth didn't have much to do here and my kids were youth. So that's when I started all the programs that we have now. We titled it Blessings for All, Empowered by Faith, and it's just that.

We help old, we help young, we help people that are in poverty. We help everybody that we can with the resources that we receive donated. That's how we got started.

There was no summer feeding program here. My mom and I used to just pack lunches up in brown sacks with a fruit and a juice and we used to sit outside in the housing projects. I didn't have a whole lot of money, so we would only do it maybe twice a week for the whole summer, things like that.

So that's how we got started doing those things. There wasn’t a Easter program. There was a lot missing that I was used to in the city.

So that's how we got started.

[Calbrina]

I definitely understand that. I grew up in Winona, too, with a single mom. I live in Chicago now and it is night and day, the resources that they have here.

So I think it's wonderful what you're bringing to the community. The organization has grown so much. You do so many different things now.

But can you tell me a little bit about what the day-to-day looks like and also more detail about kind of your work with the kids and the summer feeding, what it looks like now?

[Sydney]

We started outside of a pickup truck, handing out sack lunches to now… then we had probably about 18 kids, probably 18 to 20 kids … But now, fast forwarding approximately 14 years later, now we have an average of about 31 children.

It's so neat to see them start the program at five and six. And now I got football players and their voices changing and they're getting peach fuzz. And now they care what girls think.

And I'm like, OK, this summer has really been a different summer for me because they have all grown up. But anyway, for our summer feeding program, we feed the kids the first day. Like if they get out of school on a Thursday, that Monday we start the program because it's statistically proven that some meals, the meals they receive at school may be the only good meal that they get out of the whole day.

We didn't want to wait two weeks or just feed for one week. We feed for the entire summer. So we feed all the way up until two days before school starts so that they don't go lacking without anything.

They get nutritious food, they get the basic needs, the bread, the meat, the fruit, the drink. And it's really cool. But not only do we feed, we also educate.

So we have the forestry come in and teach about forest fires and camping safely, fishing safely, make sure they have license to fish. Most of them don't know how to fish.

And they come in, the Red Cross come in and teach about fire safety as well as tornado safety, because we have become tornado alley. We teach about tornado safety. We teach about fire safety.

We have the police officers that come in and tell them how to ride their bikes, the proper way to ride their bikes with traffic, how if there's something going wrong, don't be afraid of them, report things and stay away from gun safety. They come in and speak. We have junior auxiliary that come in. They do arts and crafts with them.

So we do a little bit of partnership with quite a bit of people because it's not my program, it's our community program. I pull a lot of different people in just to come and talk.

We're creating memories. A lot of things that we do, the kids have never done before. We take them swimming to Grenada. They go swimming to Grenada every other week, depending on funding.

Most of the time we usually make it because God makes a way. And then when we leave the pool, we have sack lunches. My mom is the cook, so we don't pay anybody. Nobody gets paid, not even me. Nobody gets paid.

So my mom is the cook and she makes sack lunches for us when we take the field trip.

At the beginning, when I started this, the kids would not pray. Now I can say somebody pray and they pray. So I know the programs that we are implementing, they're amazing.

The kids are really learning. That's my biggest thing that we got.

But we do other things. We partner with the United States Marine Toys for Tots and we bring Christmas. I believe last year we serviced over 3,000 children. Now with that program, it's just not Montgomery County. It's Montgomery County, Carroll County, Grenada County, Leflore County and Leflore County. So those are all the kids in it. They just have to register.

And I do mine's different. I know you're up there where you are. They probably just pack the bags and then the people come through and they get their bags.

Yeah, no, not me. I'm a little extra because I want the parents to feel like even though it's hard on me right now, but I want to still be able to give my child something and just let my child. I don't know if they know that it came from me.

What I do is I actually do a Santa shop. There's no children allowed at all. So we set up the tables according to the age, and the parents actually come in with a shopper and elf and they walk to the tables and they pick up the toys that their kids would play with.

All the toys are brand new. Nothing used. But we do have a used section that if they feel like they want something out of the used section, they can get that.

They're not allowed to get any amount of toys. Each child gets two really good toys and then they get two stockings. And they always get a book. Everybody has to get a book and that's their Christmas.

I like to think that the parents could go home and wrap them up and put them up under the tree and make it think that it came from them and not from toys for time.

[Sydney]

I love.

[Calbrina]

Yeah. So that's one other program.

And then, of course, the food pantry. It started out with the veterans because I'm FRG. I'm the Family Readiness Coordinator for the unit here, the field artillery unit here. And I noticed that some of our soldiers, more and more, are asking for additional assistance with food and toiletries and everything.

So I started a pantry for the veterans. So then I talked to another lady that's at Mississippi Food Network, which partners with Feed America. We got with them and they was like, “hey, you guys want to open a pantry? We'll help you.” So now the only thing about the pantry, when they assist us: we have to open it up to everyone, which is no problem. So that's how we became with the pantry.

And we help generally about 150 households a month with that. And they get like between 12 and 13 different shelf stable items. And then they'll get a piece of meat and a fruit if we have it. We'll give them a fruit as well. And that program has done wonders for the area, too.

We also work with DHS. So if a family goes to there or church and get a reference sheet for additional assistance, they could come any time and we'll open it up to them, too, as well.

We opened the first ever warming shelter in Montgomery County. It was really nice and it was really forthcoming. We actually took people in from other counties because it had never been done. We had people there for six days, I believe. I believe it was six days.

They taught us how to serve them better. So when they left, they had three days worth of food and they had clean towels, socks, toiletries, all kind of things. And they were allowed to take their blankets and their pillows and everything.

But while they were there, they got haircuts. They was able to take showers. We had an RN that come and just check on them, do a general check on them. And some was missing and said they needed medicine. We found doctors that would take them in just for that one visit. I think only one person took advantage of that.

When they all left, they got mentors to follow them for a whole year. So within that year, everybody out of the program ended up with a job, but two people, which was great. But yeah, we do quite a bit.

And sometimes talking about it is, “dang, you do a lot.”

[Sydney]

You do so much. I didn't even know that there were that many different arms of the program. That's amazing. And I can hear just like how much you love the community from what you’re sharing.

[Calbrina]

Oh my gosh, I love it.

Yeah, I believe this is my calling that God has given me. He makes a way to provide for me so that I can have that extra time to take care of his people. I always think about when I was younger and I would struggle and I'd get on my knees at night and I'd be like, OK, Lord, we just ate our last little food.

I got a little bit to probably make something, but I don't know if I'm going to be able to make too much or I'm going to be lacking the next couple of days. Lord, please help me. And then the next morning, somebody say, “hey, they're giving out food over here or hey, they're doing this.”

And that's the way I like to think of it, that there's a mother somewhere on her knees the night before telling God, hey, it's tough. I don't want to do something that I don't want to do to make sure my ends meet. Can you please help me?

And that's where we come in. I tell my volunteers that all the time, somebody is already battling something. We don't know what it took for them to actually get in this line and stand here for 45 minutes.

We don't know. So make sure when they come, we greet them with nothing but respect and a smile. That makes a big difference, a big difference.

If someone presents us a challenge or if I see a need that is there, we'll go out and we'll try to figure out how we could help fulfill that need. And it doesn't have to be us that spearhead it. We'll join in with another organization just so that it can get done.

It's about serving the people. It's not about us at all. Our name could be left out of it. You just let us put our hands on it. And I always tell the volunteers that, too: if you're not loving what you're doing, then it might be time for you to take a break because this is not a job. It's fueled off love.

That's how you get your energy to continue. That's how we get the energy to stand outside and it's 90 degrees. That's how we get the energy to keep warm when it's only 10 degrees outside.

No matter what goes on, that line still moves. We have never had to cancel a monthly distribution, even when I'm deployed. The babies still get it done.

And I'm way across the country still telling them, you know, and they're like, “OK, we got it.” I'm like, “OK.” So, yeah, we love what we do.

I'll stop talking because I would talk to your ear off.

[Sydney]

I am enjoying that. I am enjoying learning from you.

Yeah, I guess let me tell a specific story or memory. Tell me about one of your favorite interactions with a family, one of the kids that you serve.

[Calbrina]

OK, I will do… I have so many, so I was like, “which one am I going to choose?”

[Sydney]

You can tell two or three if you want to.

[Calbrina]

So the one that I would use would actually be last year with Toys for Tots: It's becoming more popular that grandmothers are raising their children. It's becoming more (and generally supposed to be the mother or the father that signs the kids up.) But I've opened it up and let grandparents sign up. And this one grandma, she comes up and she signed up through the DHS because she just got her – won the kids for custody from the state because the mom lost them.

So she went and tried to get the kids - She went and got the kids – and she just won it. And now she was getting herself together.

And she's 71 years old.

[Sydney]

Oh, my goodness.

[Calbrina]

71.

And these kids are stair steppers. I believe they were like four. The oldest was seven and it was four of them.

And the oldest was seven and the other one was like four. And I remember her coming. She had the two youngest one in a shopping basket - not a wagon, a shopping basket.

And one of my volunteers says and she says, “you come by somebody with a shopping basket.” I said “a shopping basket?”. And I said “they might be trying to go to the food pantry.”

And she was like, “no, she said she's supposed to pick up some toys.” And I'm like, “oh, wow.” So I said, “let me find her” because I don't want – everybody else was in line, and I didn't want her to feel different or out of place. And I found her file and I pulled her and I said, “the kids can't come in.”

And there's these little bitty teeter teeters. And I said, but I said, “I'll get a volunteer to watch the children.” They watched the kids. I declare, I declare Sydney: we got inside of there. When she saw all those toys, she just started crying. And she said, “do you mind if I just sit down for a minute?” And I said, “sit, take your time.”

She sat down, and she sat in that chair, and she cried for at least five minutes. And she said, “I've been holding it in for so long.” She said, “it's not because of what y'all doing from now.”

She said, “I didn't want to do it. But the kids is always there.” And I understood - she didn't have to tell me that she didn't want to cry in front of the kids. She didn't have to tell me. I knew that because that's the same place that I had been in before. So I gave her that time and she took that time and she got those kids toys. We put them in black garbage bags. One of the volunteers gave her a ride home. And then the young man (cause we have men that follow) he pushed her basket back to her home so that she can still get around.

And she said that the mom was out. She said, “I don't know where she is, what she does.” She said she didn't get the food stamps, but they're getting ready to transfer the food stamps to her.

So when I got back there, everybody was like, “what's wrong?” Cause then I cried, but I didn't want to cry in front of her. So then I cried and then I was telling the story and everybody just started pulling money out of their pockets. Everybody just started pulling money out of their pockets.

So not only did we give her a monetary donation - I took it back to her later. We gave her household goods to last her probably two months. We gave her food.

We bought a wagon for her to pull the kids instead of doing the shopping cart. We bought one of those collapsible wagons, and they had food and the little boy was like, “this is for us?” And I'm like, “yeah,” cause what I did, I went to the pantry and brought back a case of fish, a case of chicken, things like that.

And every month now I call her and I say, “you okay?” And she says, “yes, baby, I'm okay.” And every now and then when I go to the grocery store, I might pick up a few things and I'll just drop it off at her house, so that builds a foundation for her to call me if she needs me.

And it also gave me a family because my kids are grown and gone from home, but I got a family across the way that got little bitty ole kids that I can help and watch grow now, and that became my family. And she's so good. And she's so grateful.

Sometimes when you give to people like that, they become a crutch and depending on you and always call and ask for something. She has never, ever called me and asked me for anything. I always have to call her. Yeah.

So yeah. And I'm trying not to cry because I promise: that woman right there? She, me, all over.

And it's happening so much more that these grandparents - already on one income - out here trying to raise the kids to keep them out of the system. And it's not right, but she didn't give up. She didn't let them take them kids.

[Sydney]

It's more than building community. It is building family.

[Calbrina]
It is. That is my family. That is my family. That is my family. Yes, for sure.

[Sydney]
Especially knowing that you didn't grow up in Mississippi, that you're a transplant, sometimes (I'm sure you've come across this) people can have all sorts of ideas and expectations about what it's like here or what it's like to be poor here, but you've come in with open arms and made it a better place and become part of the community.

I can tell you love this community. So tell me: try and distill it down into what you love about this part of the world, and then anything that you want to leave the listeners with, like your final thing that you want to share.

[Calbrina]

I love Mississippi. It's quite… You know what it is living there. The people are grateful and I have a wealth of experience in serving the community.

I still have years to go. I still have projects to go, but that's what I love so much about Mississippi is that they give you that chance to grow. 90% of the people are very grateful for everything that we do.

Everybody's more loving on each other, even though there's always going to be violence wherever you go. But the people here are more forthcoming of building relationships here. I like that togetherness:

The football games, we pack out a stadium just for a high school game. So I like that part of it.

And the thing that I probably would leave you with is: no matter the age, no matter where you come from, no matter who you are, we're all put together on this earth to help each other. We all offer something to somebody, but there's always a spot for everybody.

[Sydney]

Amen to that. As you know, we're kayaking the Mississippi River to fundraise in support of the amazing work you're doing. How will this money help you expand your mission?

What's the wish list, so to speak?

[Calbrina]

We're praying now and that God would finance us to get a building because right now we're working out of the National Guard and we have been for years. They're talking about that someone else might come in and buy it. We're just hopeful for a lot of things right now.

So I know God is going to make a way because we wouldn't last this long if it wasn't his purpose and his will. So that's what I always tell the girls. But I really appreciate you giving me a call today to be able to tell my story.

The biggest thing is just not my stories, our stories, the community's story. And I'm honored to be able to tell it and let it reach different levels and different areas to just let people know in Mississippi, we love and we love hard and we love everyone.

[Sydney]

That was Calbrina Woods, director of Blessings for All Empowered by Faith. You can donate to the building fund by visiting our website at RiverRunsFull.com or our GoFundMe. Other donations will serve to feed the children.

Calbrina's work directly serves the youth of Montgomery County, and every dollar we can send her way is a blessing. Join us by donating today at RiverRunsFull.com.

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We've survived the last of the major natural hurdles and lost our ground crew (thanks, Bridget and James!)

The hurdle we were most concerned about was Lake Winnibigoshish, or Lake Winnie for short. It was a large open water crossing, meaning we would be far from shore and facing large-ish waves. I say large-ish because any WTFer's reading this should know that it's no Lake Michigan and we were fine. 7-8 MPH headwinds, swells no greater than 2-3 feet. AND we had our ground crew in a motor boat near by for morale boosts, direction finding aid, and last resort rescues. Inexperienced paddlers, or those without spray skirts, are right to be wary, but we were never beyond the limits of our preparation and experience.

Leah was not a fan of bouncing through the swell, but the crossing was easier than she anticipated. She was aided by an unexpected source of luck, courtesy of strangers met alongside the river:

Bawker, the giant sparkly floating good luck charm, balanced on Leah’s head after Lake Winnie.

We had several smaller practice lakes days 2.5-4 before hitting Lake Winnie on Day 5. Our favorite of these was Cass Lake, because it features a lake in an island in the larger lake.

The nested lake was called Lake Windigo. It was still as glass, in sharp comparison to the choppiness of surrounding Lake Cass. We decided to unload Leah's boat and carry it over to explore further.

Wildlife been another highlight of the trip. We've seen otters, beaver, eagles, a barn owl, and deer this week, as well as the crawfish and swans mentioned in the first update. We saw a snake on day 7, but that wasn't a highlight.

Crawfish

Milestones:

Day 2- We passed the Northernmost point.

Day 5- We logged our 100th mile

Day 6- We saw our first signs of industry

Day 8 (projected) - our first day without help

Industry in the distance

After Lake Winnie, we were on our own for less than 24 hours before being welcomed by the Bromenschenkel family, who have a free bunk house for paddlers. Their daughter generously let us shower, do laundry, and stay the night, even giving us a ride to and from the river. We are beyond grateful for their generosity and kindness. Thanks to their support, we are now 21 miles ahead of schedule.

We continued that pace on Day 7, ending at river mile 1140.6 Upper River.

Please continue to support our efforts to feed the hungry by donating at https://gofund.me/b50fa643 . Sharing word about the trip is also helpful. We are grateful for all of y'all back home and can't wait to see you again. More to come next week!

We first sat down with Emma Butler, local coordinator for Feeding the Future Mississippi. She shared firsthand what food insecurity looks like in her community, how the weekend meal program works, and why this kind of grassroots support changes lives.

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Scroll through the transcript to see pictures!

Transcript

Sydney

This is Sydney with River Runs Full, a 2025 Mississippi River journey to raise money for the fight against childhood hunger in North Mississippi. I'm joined today by Ms. Emma Butler from Feeding the Future Mississippi.

Emma, thanks for joining us. Let's start with an introduction.

Emma

Of course, my name is Emma Butler. I also serve as the parent liaison for the Holmes County Consolidated School District, and got involved in the program. We live in a low-poverty area here in Holmes County, and it's kind of hard on some of our children.

So, when they came and offered the program to us and walked me through it and gave us all the guidelines of it, of course, Holmes County was interested in it, because we always look for something to help our scholars move forward or something to make them grow. So, once they gave us the program and we learned it and I was trained on it, it became so helpful to the community, family, school, the whole nine yards of everything that we needed to grow with.

So, with the program, we are myself, principals, superintendents, teachers, parents, students, we come together and we choose certain students that we think that is well needed for the program. So, we take from that list and we do paperwork. Of course, it's based on what a child needs and what we see and observe. Like, I might see a child come in that's always hungry when they go to the cafeteria. They might say, I didn't get a chance to eat this morning. I don't have it.

So, the package that I pass out, it provides nutrition food, cereal, a juice, a milk, a can of soup, something that a child can take home with them and eat if a parent's not there to prepare a meal, such as just pop a top and use the microwave. Nothing to cause them any kind of harm or anything by using a stove. They'll get a small treat, something they can open, eat immediately, so they can just get comfortable enough to prepare them something to eat.

I just try to make sure that once the food come in, I make sure all the kids get a package on a weekly basis. I pass it out weekly. I also have, they provide me with the backpacks, the backpack program, and I take it and I put it in a, what we would call a, it's actually a backpack or book bag to them, and I provide it to them.

And at the end of the day, after lunch is served at the school, before we close out at three o'clock, I'm going to give them, once a week, their lunches. Some may get one pack, one bag. It comes in a Ziploc bag with all the items listed.

Providing to the other areas… that may not have the program… seminars and things where we have to do an input on something that can help with low poverty area, I make sure I show them that this is what we're doing in Durant. It helps our kids learn. It motivates them.

It's something for them to look forward to, because they know they need it, to pick up on Thursday, and if they're not there that Thursday, I can give it to them on Friday, just as long as they get it that week. And as long as I have a close community area here, if the child is sick or not able to come get it, I text it to them.

Sydney

That's really wonderful.

Emma

Yes. Good that they get it, you know, so they'll have something to eat. And if it's a student that's, just say, I have a student to drop off or move to another school area that's not part of Holmes County where the food go to, I take and I put a another child in that place that's on my list that I already have an application for. They would be able to get the food and the process keeps going. It's not a waste. I always move to the next level or the next child.

Sydney

How many you serve and how many are on your wait list?

Emma

I have anywhere from 10, 15, 20, and I can have more than that. It really room for at least up to 25 or 30 more kids that's in just as bad a need.

But this year for each school, I served 25 families and I passed out 45 meals per week.

Sydney

That's amazing.

Emma

Yes.

Sydney

Tell me more about the program logistics.

Emma

The meals come in to me already packed. All I have to do is distribute, pack them out in the book bags and distribute them. And of course, once the food come in, the food is passed out FIFO (First in First Out).

What do I mean by that? I mean, once they come in, if I get my April supply, you know, I'm going to finish all April before I get my May shipment started. But it pass out.

I have 180 bags coming per month, per school. We service two schools in our Holmes County area. They are elementary schools. And my truck, I get a new truck every month. And once my truck comes in, I make sure my food and label for the date that it's coming in and my month before it is already done, you know. And it's just the most wonderful program you can ever participate in for a low poverty area. That it’s not being wasted, it's appreciated, and mostly, needed. It's mostly needed.

But I have the newspaper article and on our school monthly meetings, we are recognized as it. I also received an award for the food and program coming out on my retirement for supplying the children and passing out the food. They gave me a plaque for my retirement.

Sydney

As they should, as they should.

Emma

And my parents, they always call and they're like, “oh, I appreciate this. I'm not able to get there and get my baby’s package for this month. Is there any way I can take and pick it up at the school?” And I'll label their bags already labeled with names and how many bags inside as well as their grade level. So I don't worry about when I'm distributing, you know, just say Emma’s food to Brenda.

No, because my name is on it, my grade level is on there, as well as how many bags I get in there per my application. Like if you have a family, maybe it's three young children there. That bag, when I give it to… whatever the student name is, he's going to get enough for his two siblings. You're going to get a bag for each one of them. And I have passed out up to four per child with, you know, with the smaller kids there in the household. And it's just a wonderful program.

In each school now, I serve 45 bags. You know, 25 families. So I had a total of 25 at Goodman-Pickens and I pass out 45 bags per week. Durant, same number. I try to keep the school equal so I can give both, you know, have it 50-50.

And when they ship my shipment in, I would get enough boxes to supply for each school to get them to the next shipment with the count that they allowed us to serve up to. And again, it's determined by the… I'm not the only person choose these students. It's a whole, even our community.

They come to the meetings like, “we have a food program. You feel your child or you're in need, see Ms. Butler. She has applications.” And they fill them out. Like, “if anything come available or someone leave my child, if you don't mind, could they be next?” And then we'll get together, myself and the principals and the teachers, and we'll say, hey, this child, you're really needed. The next time an opening comes available, could you consider this child? It's not just whoever wants it. It's not that type of program. It's for need. And we go with the most needed child that we have.

Sydney

That makes a lot of sense. Originally, I was going to ask you to tell me more about the different families that take part, but you shared a lot about them just already.

Emma

Our community, like I said, it's a low poverty area. Holmes County is considered as one of the poorest counties in the United States, in Mississippi. That's why we were chosen to begin with, according to statistics. And we make sure that when we are doing it, we can understand the real need of people. We don't just guess it, come up with ideas. It's really a meet, greet. And most of the family, I'm from this area. I know the families. So it's not like you're putting something on paper and just making a believer. I mean, no, I go to the homes. I know the family. I speak with the parents. I get permission for them, for these children to get this offer.

And I let them know if it's a problem, if the child is allergic to something in the bag, let me know. And the average family says, “oh, she can eat that.” If they don't, I have other children that's in my household, because they take the backpack home and they do provide me with what, if they are allergic to peanut butter, anything, they'll let me know. And if it's going home, I'm going to make sure me and that parent talk and say, “hey, this is in his book bag, but you said, do not take it out. You want to give it.. the other kids can eat it.”

But it's very seldom I have that. And so far, I really hadn't ran into an allergy problem with the stuff I serve. I might have two that didn't drink milk, but the parent wanted the milk because the other students drank it.

Which, you know, I didn't remove it from their kit, but the mother already knew. And the students are ranked from… I have had pre-K through fifth grade, because that's what Durant consists of. Goodman-Pickens is K through fifth grade.

So basically, I have any number, any child from those grades, pre-K through fifth grade.

Sydney

So you've been working with this program since the start, it sounds like. What's been one of your favorite memories from working with this program?

Emma

When myself and Feeding America, Braeden and Mr. Datta, come to Durant, they supplied us with food. They even bought other food besides what we pass out. And the families was gathering there in Durant. We had the streets blocked off and they gave them food, hair stuff to books, supplies. They have come here and do our back to school for the whole community where every child receives something.

Sydney

That's awesome.

Emma

And our school at Durant at the time, first one, we had over 300 kids. They provided backpacks with pencils, crayons, glue, accessories, stuff that pre-K through fifth grade could use. And they had bags labeled for different grade levels. And it was just the town talk and the community talk. We had great output. It was just one of the best times. But each year they did something for us at the school.

And just last year they gave us Dell book bags. I was able, not just with the regular colorful book bags we have for the kids, but I was able to take and provide Dell book bags for a special occasion for all of our kids. Everyone in the school got one, whether you were program or not. It was just a blessing, parents appreciate it. It was just so much.

Sydney

I know how amazing and how important the work you and Braeden and Mr. Datta do is. I'm just so grateful you do it.

When people outside of Mississippi think about our communities, they aren't getting the full picture. They hear about the poverty, the violence, poor health outcomes. I want to know what you love about Durant, about Mississippi, about your community.

Emma

Okay! I love about it because we try to come together. When it's a child at our school don't have clothing or family lose their home or lose it for lack of work or anything. We have something in place where we come together and serve those kids.

And families, anybody. We also have here in Mississippi a closeness where really no child is going to be left behind if we are aware of it. They don't just have to be our school at Durant where I served the package. It can be anywhere in Holmes County. We can call up on people's, like Braeden and them, with the food program and let them know. They have served family that wasn't on their program and allowed them to come there and receive a box. Just say we had so much left over and they was kids that maybe once was on the program or was waiting to get on the program, they was able to receive some. And they have seen firsthand the good, the bad, and the growth here in Mississippi. Yes, and it has just been a blessing because really to see Holmes County, good stuff is just, this food has worked wonders for Holmes County.

And it's just, we even get a food truck for elder peoples here in Durant that we meet at the Baptist Church and we also serve them.

Sydney

That's awesome.

Emma

It comes from Feeding America. It has been a lot for the district. I know from 2018 to present, it's not going to fail.

Sydney

No, it's going to keep going.

Emma

And when they come in and audit, I'm always there and available for them to receive what they need.

Sydney

That's awesome. I don't want to take up your whole day, but what would be kind of a final thing that you would want to tell people or share with people that are listening?

Emma

I would like them to know that to be a part of it is amazing. I want them to know that it's more than what we could pray for and have grace for our children here in Holmes County. It's just a life-changing experience. It's just something we need and we depend on to make sure our children are fed and getting them what they need. It's just a blessing. That's the best way to sum it up.

Sydney

Amen to that.

Thank you so much for taking time just to talk to me and tell me your story and about this group.

That was Emma Butler of Feeding the Future Mississippi. If you're interested in feeding even more children in Holmes County, visit our website at riverrunsfull.com or our GoFundMe to make a donation. A weekend of food is just $5, and $180 covers a child's weekend meals for an entire school year. Every dollar counts in the fight against childhood hunger.

Join us today by donating at riverrunsfull.com.

We’re grateful for the many well-wishes, thoughts, and prayers that you’ve sent our way, and for the many donations! We are fund-raising to feed hungry children throughout the Mississippi Delta, and every dollar counts.

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When I was imagining the headwaters, I was expecting a slow trickling steam with murky water, and soft, almost invisible, bends.

Not so. The water was super clear and bright. (See video below) As soon as we put in, we were off, whether we wanted to or not. The river was flowing very fast, and it was all we could do to keep bouncing to the correct side of the river. It felt like a good track for tubing - a less good track for my 15.5 ft kayak, but I didn’t get stuck.

Eventually it leveled off, and we were greeted by a beautiful stretch of spider webs. Combined with the morning fog, it was otherwordly.

Next we approached a wetlands area. The plan was to go just 2.5 miles to the next takeout and see how long it took us and what obstacles we had encountered to decide whether to go further, or whether this stretch was functionally impassible.

Towards the end of the bog area, we encountered a stretch of reeds that was very dense, and the path through it took a sharp left turn. I couldn’t get through, so Sydney gave it a shot in her 13.5ft boat, in hopes that the shorter length would better be able to navigate the turn, and after a lot of pushing and pulling and scootching across the reeds she was through. Not only was she through, but she had widened the path enough that my boat could now go through as well (with some pulling and scootching of my own)

Since the only obstacle so far was a “normal” obstacle, and not down trees, we decided to keep going to at least Coffee Pot Landing. This part of Minnesota was hit by bad tornadoes about a month ago, and not many people have paddled through the area since then. If too many trees were down, we would have to take out and put in on a later section of the river. On the way to Coffee Pot Landing, there were at least a few down trees that needed to be paddled scootched over or portaged around, but many of the trees we passed had been cut to let us pass on one side or the other.

After Vekin’s Dam (first named portage!), the water got shallow and the rocks started sticking up. The river narrowed again so the river picked up pace. I was very grateful that my parents (who are our road support for the first 5 days) had most of our stuff, so my boat was mostly empty and sat much higher in the water. Even so, we got stuck several places and had to get out and reorient ourselves to go back downstream.

After the rapids, there were more trees and a few beaver dams, then some softer rapids, then finally, our campsite. My parents brought us tents and hot food, and we settled in for the night.

The next day we set off with a goal of reaching Pine Point by lunchtime, and Iron Bridge by night. We were a little worried about the “rapids” and “abundant vegetation” marked on the DNR map in the first 5 miles, but the water was high enough the rapids weren’t really rapids, and the abundant vegetation never materialized.

There weren’t many places to get out and walk around in this section. There was a group of campers at Bear Den, so we just said hi and moved on. We actually overshot Pine Point - the takeout is on a rarely used loop rather than the main river, and the campsite itself is not visible from the river. If it wasn’t for my dad honking the car horn and me waving my paddle we never would have found each other. But it did give us a much needed morale boost, ready for the 8 miles we had left.

We were a little faked out about the vegetation since we got through one stretch of reeds OK and the other section never showed up - even the first ~3 miles of this was fine, but soon we encountered DENSE vegetation. We were using google maps heavily to find where the river is supposed to flow, and often taking it on faith that the river would rematerialize after we pushed through another stretch of reeds (it always did).

At one point we followed a swan hoping it would lead us back to the main river, but it was actually trying to lead us to our doom (video below) - that was the furthest we ever got from the main path, and we actually had to backtrack part of it.

We made it through in the end, and took out at Iron Bridge to setup camp, then paddled a few hundred yards downstream to the takeout to get dinner before heading back to the campsite for the night.

This morning, we had a bit of a rough start: I dumped my boat going down the steep hill into the water, so I started the day soaked, but we were only going about 7 miles to the Fern Lake takeout so that we could car portage around the Silver Maple section, which still has trees blocking the entire path. There were a few more sections where the river flow path was dubious, and one new path that is forming that was not marked on google maps, but was moving very quickly and cut out a good chunk of the river.

Then we crossed Lake Irving to Lake Bemidji and paddle to the hotel my parents are staying at for a shower, laundry, and other logistical things, then we set out in a bit for some more paddling.

We have some big lakes in the next few days, which I am both excited and nervous about, but think I am ready to leave the reeds behind, and move on to the next phase of our river adventure.