Canoeing the Crow

Connie at our lunch break in a bucolic pasture along the river.

Connie Scott and I spent many happy hours together during junior and senior high school. We attended the same school, the same summer camp, the same church and the same Girl Scout troop. Our mothers were friends and we often thought they conspired to enroll us as a pair to encourage us to take part in various cultural and recreational activities.

During the summer months, Connie and I spent a lot of time on the water of two of Minnesota's 10,000 lakes: Lake Harriet in south Minneapolis and Linwood Lake in Anoka County. We passed lifesaving training at the 46th Street beach and spent the summer of 1964 as lifeguards and junior counselors at Camp Ajawah at Linwood Lake. Many long summer afternoons were spent in my family's Alumacraft canoe, which was kept at the Lake Harriet dock.

During most of our adult years, Connie was an elementary school principal and I was a newspaper reporter, county commissioner and mother of four. We were too busy to get together. Then we both retired--and her older brother purchased a lake cabin near Dassel. Suddenly the opportunity to see one another regularly became a reality.

This spring we both turned 65. I suggested that us gals go canoeing again together. We tried a short paddle on a nearby lake on Memorial Day weekend. Then I offered to take her on a day canoe trip down the North Fork of the Crow River in Meeker County. I had taken the four-hour trip numerous times, but not for about five years. Connie had not had access to a canoe for many years.

We were also a LOT older. Could two 65-year-old women load, unload and paddle a quick-moving river without help from anyone else?

We looked like zombies after coating our skin with zinc oxide sunblock

Pulling up the canoe at the Kingston landing

What a great day.  My first mishap was falling into the water as we were getting the canoe into the river. It was a warm day & my bathing suit was underneath my shorts, so it was no big deal, but I started out a muddy and soggy. Twice we pulled the 50-pound cedar-strip canoe (lighter than the old Alumacraft!) over logs that had fallen across the full width of the river. I almost lost my hat and Connie fished my stray paddle out of the water before it headed downstream without us. We saw songbirds, water birds, big snapping turtles and followed a huge, beautiful bald eagle, up close, for approximately one mile.



We couldn't take many photos because the current made keeping a camera outside of a waterproof bag hazardous, so we had to settle for shots during our lunch break and while pulling the canoe out at the Kingston Park landing.

Connie admitted that she had been more apprehensive than she had let on, but says she can now cross something off her "Bucket List." I hope we can go again sometime--maybe try a different stretch of the river.

The photos tell the story. Old ladies can still have fun on the water.

Amy had mostly dried off by lunch break.