The MR4, Part One

You ever have one of those days where everything just goes wrong? Of course you have, everyone has. We had two.

A Simple Plan
So the guys wanted to take a practice run in some day two waters. Specifically, they wanted to get through the construction and ferry crossing in Glasgow and then run the Lisbon bottoms. No problem. We'll find somewhere to camp Friday night and put in early Saturday morning and make a full day of it. I had been researching conservation areas on the MDC website and settled on Grand Pass for Friday night, (our planned night one camp for the race as well.) It has a boat ramp and camping, perfect. Saturday the guys will have a 77 mile paddle to Franklin Island, (Booneville) their longest single day yet. We've got some experience in these matters. What could possibly go wrong?

Friday, 5:30 pm: Apparently, everything can go wrong.
I'm headed to Mike's house to meet the guys and load up. Patrick calls and has hit a major snag. He has received a call from the lake patrol at Lotawana telling him his dock is damaged and his boat is thrashing around. He'll have to go deal with that, so we'll have to load up and pick him up in Lee's Summit. Guess we'll make camp in the dark.

Friday, 8:30 pm: Marshall, MO
We're almost to Grand Pass. With any luck we'll have 5 or 10 minutes of dusk light to make camp. Mike mentions we should go ahead and gas up just as we leave Marshall. There's still over a quarter tank and we're almost there. We decide to push on rather than turn around.

Friday, 9:00 pm: "This is farther than it looked on the map."
A fully loaded Jeep Grand Cherokee gets gas mileage equivalent to that of a fully armored school bus and is measured in gpm instead of mpg. There were no signs of civilization between Marshall and Grand Pass and there is barely enough gas to get back there. We are seriously concerned about running out, but we're here now so may as well make camp and let the guys shove off in the morning. I'll worry about getting stranded alone tomorrow.

There's just one problem. Well, actually there are 2 problems. First, while the MDC site was right about there being a boat ramp, it doesn't go into the river. In fact, it doesn't go into any water at all. It's a ramp into seasonal wetlands used by duck hunters. Right now it's bone dry. We probably could get to the river, but it would take some serious machete work. Second, there's really nowhere to camp. Most of these conservation areas have a somewhat mowed area for camping but this place is pretty overgrown. There are a few other gravel roads to explore, maybe we're just in the wrong spot. The only problem is we don't have the gas to go exploring. We'll have to go back to Marshall and gas up, then come back and try to find a better campsite and river access.

Friday, 9:30 pm: Marshall, MO, Again

Buying gas at Wal-Mart. How... rural. I'm just glad we made it. I've never been happy to see a Wal-Mart before, it's an odd feeling. We check with the girl working the counter about local camping. The only place she knows about is Lamine, wrong river.

Friday, 10:00 pm: Grand Pass, Again

Now that we have plenty of gas we can explore this place a little more thoroughly. Still nothing. Shit. That means Plan B is in effect. Plan B is where we camp in Brunswick on the Grand River, 3.4 miles upriver from the Missouri. The only real problem with this is that it shortens tomorrow's run to about 55 miles.

I have to take full responsibility for choosing Grand Pass. In my defense, the MDC website was fairly misleading. I did sort of wonder why nobody ever mentioned it in the River Miles forums. I should have assumed there was a reason instead of assuming I was clever and had found a secret campsite.

I am personally going to kick the ass of the moron in charge of this.

Friday, 10:30 pm: Marshall, MO, AGAIN

Nothing to report here except how irritating it is to be going through this town a 3rd time on our way to Brunswick.

Friday, 11:00 pm: Brunswick, MO

The Grand River access in Brunswick is pretty much in the middle of a neighborhood. We're practically setting up camp in someone's front yard. Their kids are rowdy, but helpful. Maybe a little too helpful. We stay up and ponder the maps a bit. The kids get called in for bed, thankfully.

Many Bothans died to bring us this information.

Saturday, 1:00 am: Camp Paddlephiles

Mike and Patrick have turned in. I'm putting some things away. Now the kid's parents are getting rowdy and they aren't at all helpful. They're drunk and running around their front yard with flashlights a whoopin' and a hollerin'. From across the lot it's hard to tell if they are having a late night easter egg hunt or just playing a little grab-ass. It's about this time the trains start rolling through. We're camped about 50 feet from the tracks. It's going to be a long night. I'm going to bed.

To be continued...