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Poem

Every journey worth its salt has rocky places
Bank to bank filled with frothing white water, 
The economics of avoidance, steering a lean course, 
Avoiding higher peaks that thrill - vouchsafed to others.
Rest days taken during times of lower water
Even portaging some sections altogether, 
Below one dam a three mile jumble of boulders.

Only one stretch really caught us napping.
Truth be told it really had me worried, 
But knowing that we were riding higher water
I steered as best I could between foaming protrusions
That prudence whispered likely hid a rock.
Just once, as I recall, we grounded on gravel bar, 
But I pushed us off before current turned us broadside. (10)

Minnesota's rollicking Mississippi is a charmer, 
And many State Campgrounds court her boundaries, 
Some even have hot water showers and manicured sites, 
But a pall of mosquitoes infests more timbered parks
That no wind short of a tornado has the power to disperse, 
We ate our evening meals under beekeeper's hats and nets, 
It is funny when mosquitoes dive bomb cooling plates of food.

Poet's Notes:
(10) This is a real danger for a canoe in a rapid. A canoe that turns broadside to the rushing water can be rapidly filled with water and swamped.

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