Why RAGBRAI?

In a few days I'll be heading to Iowa to ride in the RAGBRAI, a seven day bicycle tour that goes from the western edge of the state to the eastern edge. Why, when the focus of my expedition has been rivers, am I headed to Iowa for a bike ride?

This trip will take me through the heart of several small towns, and the idea of community is also a focus of my expedition. RAGBRAI is known for "the sights, the sounds, the friends, the food, but most of all the hospitality of the warm and friendly people of Iowa."

Iowa is bordered by the Missouri River on its western edge and by the Mississippi River on its eastern edge. "Over the years, a tradition has developed for riders to dip their rear tire in the Missouri River or its tributaries as they begin their seven-day journey east. When they complete the ride, they will dip their front tire in the Mississippi River."

This year in particular, with all the flooding in Iowa, my journey will allow me to look at how rivers can destroy and at the same time build up communities. Even though the floods have caused a lot of damage to many areas of the state, the people of Iowa are still joining together to make this bike ride happen. (If you are interested in reading more about the floods, go to the Des Moines Register's website. If you want to make a donation to help out the people who were flooded, go to the state government's website.)

So, since my grant was taking me a few hours from Iowa to study Hannibal, Missouri and the Mississippi River, it just made sense to go a little bit further and include a bike ride across Iowa in my expedition.

Advertising The CT River Byway

While I was up in New Hampshire, I picked up a brochure titled, "Discover the Connecticut River Byway of Vermont and New Hampshire." This brochure sells the CT River to me, and makes me think it is the best place to spend my vacation time. It uses catchy phrases like, "The history of new England's longest and most powerful river reaches back into time," and "This mighty river flows through northern forests, fertile flood plains and historic towns and villages--connecting people and communities on its way to the sea." This language makes the river seem powerful and useful. It makes it seem something to be appreciated and celebrated.

As I flip through the brochure, I notice the upper valley (towns along the CT River north of Massachusetts) being sold with beautiful pictures appealing to a variety of interests. There is a page advertising the CT River Byway as "The Perfect New England Summer Drive." That is followed by a page for fall, complete with pumpkins and golden leaves. The next page, winter, shows children sledding, a horse drawn sleigh ride, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate. That is followed by a page celebrating agriculture--apples, barns, maple syrup, cows. Last, there is a page advertising the art, history and heritage of the region.

The brochure makes me want to go back to Vermont and New Hampshire. Something about the four seasons makes a place seem more appealing. It reminds me of a brochure I had (one of the few English brochures) for the region where I lived in Japan. The region was called Tohoku, and the advertising campaign focused on the fact that the region was at 40 degrees north latitude and, therefore, had four seasons. I consulted that brochure on a regular basis to remind myself of all the fun places I still needed to visit right in my own backyard.

The reason I am reflecting about this and posting it on my blog is that I am wondering how we can advertise Springfield in a similar way. Actually, perhaps a better question would be, do we already advertise Springfield in a similar way? Ms. Kang, Mr. Robinson, and I stopped at the information center down by the waterfront area. Although we picked up a lot of brochures, I didn't see one that grabbed my attention quite like this. So, that makes me wonder, what do we need to do to make Springfield seem as appealing as any of these other towns along the CT River?

I know you don't have a copy of the brochure, but the CT River Byway also has a website. You can check it out to see similar advertising for yourself. Springfield also has a website as part of the Pioneer Valley. It would be interesting to spend some time comparing the way that different towns along the CT River advertise their towns, and to look at the audience they are advertising to.

Journey to the Source

I'm usually very a very organized person. I plan out almost everything, and usually have a rough itinerary before I head out on a road trip. But for some reason, I didn't do that when I went up to the Connecticut Lakes Region. And, I liked traveling this way. It made me feel more like an adventurer, discovering the headwaters of the CT for the first time.

Up until a week ago, all that I knew about the area is that I would find the source of the CT River at the Fourth Connecticut Lake. I hadn't looked closely at a map, but I knew that I had to drive very far north in order to get there. I had spent the past several weeks telling my friends, "I'm going to northern Vermont to see the beginning of the CT River." It wasn't until I studied my road atlas just before I pulled out of my driveway that I realized the CT Lakes are actually in northern New Hampshire!

I drove straight up the 91 for a few hours until it dumped me off in St. Johnsbury, Vermont, a historic town around the Passumpsic River, part of the CT River watershed. St. Johnsbury is considered the gateway to the Northeast Kingdom, and it is the first place along my route where the scenery looked notably different. From St. Johnsbury I drove out the winding Rte 2 that follows the Passumpsic River (or at least I think that's which river it is), eventually crossing over into New Hampshire. Shortly after crossing the New Hampshire border, I entered into The Great North Woods, and from that point in the drive I really began to feel like I was in a wilderness area.

As soon as I entered The Great North Woods, it began pouring rain. I went through Lancaster and Colebrook, NH, both CT River Waypoint Communities, but I could barely see them because of the rain. Finding my campground was also a bit challenging since I could barely read any road signs in the rain and mist. My initial plan had been to stay in Deer Mountain Campground since it's right in the middle of the CT Lakes, but an employee at a rest area had told me that campground is closed. I didn't know if I should believe him, but since Lake Francis campground came up first, and I was tired of driving, I stopped there. I later discovered that Deer Mountain really was open, but Lake Francis was also a beautiful place to camp. I ended up with a lakeview tent platform (although you can't really see the lake in that photo--it's right through those evergreen trees), and I could hear a loon calling each morning and evening.

From the campground, it was about a half hour drive to the parking lot for the 4th Connecticut Lake trail. The drive up there was amazing; for the entire half hour I didn't see any houses, people, or cars on the road. I felt like I was truly in the wilderness. It may not have really been wilderness, but I definitely wasn't sure where I was. I was looking everywhere for a sign for the 4th CT Lake, and before I knew it I had driven right over the US border into Canada. Ooops! I stopped at the border station and said to the customs officer, "Uhm, I'm not sure how I ended up here, but I really don't want to go to Canada. I'm just trying to find the 4th CT Lake." That customs officer sent me back across the border to the US customs officer to whom I said, "I'm not really coming back from Canada, I'm just trying to find the 4th CT Lake." He told me where to park and showed me where the trail started. (The parking lot was in a pretty obvious place, and I'm sure the both customs agents were laughing at me since I was the only car up there and was driving in circles across an international border.)


The headwaters of the Connecticut River, the 4th Connecticut Lake and 78 acres of land around it, are managed by The Nature Conservancy. The trail to the lake starts at the top of a hill behind the US Customs station. Although it's a short trail (1.7 miles round trip), it starts off with a rather steep climb and with some amazing views of the surrounding mountains and valleys.


At the top of the hill, you dip down a little again into a small valley. The 4th Connecticut Lake is in an ecosystem that is somewhat unusual for New Hampshire. It is a tarn, a lake that was formed by a glacier thousands of years ago.




The Connecticut River itself is tiny at its source. There were actually two spots where water flowed out of the lake. In one spot it was just a trickle, no wider than my hand. In the other spot, it was slightly wider--about wide enough to step across on four stepping stones. Apparently these two outlets take turns being the source of the Connecticut River. The beavers in the area dam up different sections, and that is what determines where the river actually flows.

Nathaniel Trip describes the source wonderfully in his book, Confluence: A River, The Environment, Politics, and The Fate of All Humanity. He says, "This river begins as all rivers do, with a drop of rain, a wisp of fog. It gathers on stone, amid fern, and weeps from the branches of wind-shaped spruce. The movement downhill is silent at first here where the bare bones of the earth meet the sky. The dripping and seeping seems of little consequence amid the tumble of postglacial boulders, the dark silence of high-altitude forest, the lichen, and the reindeer moss."

The whole area is so isolated and peaceful, I felt like I was the only person who had been up there in years. While walking around the lake, I breathed in the scent of all the balsam fir trees, I stopped to listen to the frogs croaking, and I watched what I thought was a pitcher plant to see it eat an insect. I wished I had brought my lunch, because I wanted to stay there for hours. But, instead, I headed back down the mountain and down the river...an explorer coming home from the wilderness.

Looking For Moose

Apparently The Great North Woods (where the CT Lakes are located) is famous for its moose population. I didn't actually learn this until I saw a bright yellow road sign saying, "caution, moose next 10 miles."

"Cool, moose." I thought to myself. I hadn't seen a moose since I was in Maine several years ago. "This is going to be an exciting trip for wildlife viewing."

After a few miles, I came to another sign, "Brake for moose, it could save your life. Hundreds of collisions." Under ordinary circumstances, this sign wouldn't have really concerned me. I mean, it's not like I was texting on my cell phone and polishing my toenails while driving; I was looking at the road. And, generally, I like to think that my vision is good enough to spot a 1200 pound animal standing right in front of me. But, for some reason, that sign reminded me of an episode of Myth Busters that I had recently watched.

In that episode of Myth Busters, the hosts quoted several statistics about car accidents that had been caused by drivers hitting moose. They talked about the fact that moose are often hard to spot because they are so tall. Drivers only see the moose's legs, and not their bodies, so the drivers don't notice them until it's too late to stop. The mythbusters decided to test out whether accelerating into the moose instead of braking would create enough force to fling it over the roof of the car and leave the car unharmed. No such luck. Essentially, no matter what speed the driver was going, the test moose pretty much totaled the car.

I kept replaying those moose crash images in my head. That, combined with the fact that it was raining steadily and was quite foggy was enough to set me into a panic. Every tree I saw out of the corner of my eyes was a moose leg. (And, believe me, there are A LOT of trees up there--it's the Great North Woods.) Every time the wind blew, I thought a moose was running out from the forest into the middle of the road to stand there and watch me crash into him. "All right you moose," I wanted to yell, "just get out here and finish me off already! Put me out of my misery!" But they didn't. I just drove and drove and drove, through fog and rain and panic--and never saw a moose once.

The next day, after the rain had stopped and I had a chance to realize how silly my panic had been, I decided that I would go look for a moose. After all, the locals had nicknamed this place "moose alley." Moose are one of the biggest tourist attractions up there. And, as long as I had wasted all that energy worrying about seeing a moose, I ought to actually see one. However, those moose warning signs seem to be a bit overly cautious because, although I looked for days, I didn't see one moose. None of the other people I talked to at the campground had seen one either. The moose all seemed to be hiding. So, I headed home, disappointed in my wildlife viewing.

Aside from a few chipmunks and a loon, I didn't see any wildlife on that trip. Not until the very end of the trip anyway. About an hour after I got home, I was driving south on the 91 outside of West Springfield, and there by the roadside, was a deer just standing there watching traffic.

The Source Pictures

This week I went to the source of the CT River. I will write about my trip in the next day or two. Meanwhile, here is a link for pictures of the trip.

How To Post A Comment

Ms. Kang told me that she talked to some of our students at Duggan last week and that many people are not sure how to post a comment on the blog. I will try to explain it here.

Step 1
At the end of each posting/article you will see a line that says "posted by jenhen108 at some time." Then it says "0 comments" or "1 comment" or something like that. Click where it says "comments."

Step 2
After you click on the "comments" link, you will come to a page that says "Post a comment on Hen on the River" at the top. You will see a box on the right side of the page. Type your comment there.

Step 3
Type the "word verification" word. This is here so that the website it more secure.

Step 4
Choose an identity. If you don't already have a google account (gmail), you should click on the link that says, "sign up here." That will bring you to a new page. Follow the direction on that page (you have to type in an email address that you already have). That page will ask you if you want to start your own blog (if you're at least 13 years old).

Step 5
Once you have a google ID, you can go back to the posting and enter your ID and make your post.

Hopefully that helps. Just play around with it and try it out.

One Look At the Connecticut River

Last week Ms. Kang, Mr. Robinson, and I were working on planning our expedition for the coming school year. On Thursday we went down to the Connecticut River in Holyoke and in Springfield to do our own fieldwork.

In Holyoke we stopped just below the fish ladder. Unfortunately, we weren't able to see fish swimming in the ladder because it's only open in the spring. The section of the river in Holyoke looked like a nice place for fishing.

The section of the river in Springfield is much wider. There is a nice bicycle path along the Springfield section. However, the sitting area in the Springfield section is right across from the wastewater treatment plant--not such a nice view.

This week I'm up in Vermont checking out the northern reaches of the CT River.

You can go to Flickr to see more photos of the CT River in Holyoke and Springfield.

Pictures from NOC

As I said, I didn't have a waterproof camera, so I didn't take any pictures myself. However, one of the other students from the clinic just sent some pictures that they took.

In the top picture, we are on the lake just beginning to learn how to paddle our kayaks. I am the one in the red boat with the red helmet and red PFD.

In the second picture, we are practicing hip snaps, a technique that we also used for boat to boat rescues. I am the one in the red boat on the right, pulling the yellow boat closer to me.




In the picture below that, we are catching an eddy and waiting to ferry across the river.



I am not in the picture on the bottom, but that is a good example of the type of rapids that we paddled through on the rivers. Some parts were faster than that, and other parts were slower.