Meramec River Overall Fastest Known Paddle: 39H 21M

Peter Larson of Ballwin, MO, age 46

(this is also the fastest solo male FKP)

Distance: 219 miles per map; per Peter’s tracker, 201 miles.

Boat used: Stellar 18r MS kayak

GPS trackers used: Garmin 955, Garmin InReach Mini 2, Garmin Etrex 22x

Supported

Start: Short Bend Access, Salem, Missouri, 7:01am, April 11th.

Finish: Mississippi River confluence, Arnold, Missouri, 10:22pm, April 12th.

Map resources

Trip Report from Peter:

Arrived at Short Bend access just south of Salem MO just before 630am and got my gear in order.  I had brought both my Epic v7 and Stellar 18r MS so I could make a final decision at the put in based on water conditions.  Final choice was the 18r because it looked like there might be enough water, it is much lighter, and the enclosed seating would be much warmer and protected on what was to be a very cold paddle.  Other gear was an epic short midwing paddle, a garmin 955, inreach mini2, and etrex 22x, 3 liter water bag, and 30oz bottle of pedialyte sport.  I had a dry bag in the hatch with dry layers, fire starter sticks, a lighter, a couple cliff bars, and 2 emergency blankets.  The weather at the put in was 45 degrees, cloudy, and a light breeze.  It was forecast to reach 52 and have a north wind all day before dropping to 33 for a low, while day 2 would rise to 62 degrees with a southern wind.  Due to wind and cold, a last minute add on was pogies to my paddle to keep my hands warmer.  At 7:01, I shoved off the beach and began the adventure.

The first 4 miles were incredibly intense.  Here the river is more of a large creek trapped in between tight walls.  It constantly twists and turns with blind corners and last second corrections made all the more fun in an 18ft boat.  A background in canoeing my whole life and whitewater kayaking was key here for navigating the often only 10-15 ft wide stream bed and constant motion of the water.  Twice came around corners to find logs all the way across the river and had to stop hard and jump out to carry around.  Several others I limboed under or slid over the top of.  Deer were everywhere in the morning hours and the scenery was amazing, spirits were high!

By mile five, the river began to open up more and the constant riffles and current were separated now with 100 yard pools and flat land on one side or another.

  While the constant adrenaline filled action may have passed, the wider valley allowed for more trees and thus greater log jams.  Miles 5-20 saw a half dozen massive log jams, 2 that needed portaging, while others I was able to find a path through or around.  Mile 5 also brought the first low water bridge, but low enough that I was able to float over it with the high water.  Mile 6.5 brough the next but by laying on my back deck I was able to limbo under it with maybe 2 inches to spare.  Mile 14 brought the town of Wesco and a low head dam and followed by a bridge 500 yards further that both had to be portaged.  These were the most technical portages and I had scouted them the night before thankfully.  There would be 2 more low water bridges before reaching my first check point at mile 26 and Hwy 8/Woodson K woods.  The highlight of the end of that section was a family of otters running along the shore trying to get away from me for 50 yards.  Wildlife in the upper section was amazing with Bald eagles, wood ducks, and GBH every turn.  

Reached my first check point behind my predicted time due to the portages and tricky paddling of the upper section.  Grabbed a double cheeseburger and protein shake from my son and set off on the next leg.  I was now entering the more commonly paddled section of the river.  Passed Meramec Spring 2 miles into the next section which doubled the water flow.  Water was now much wider and flowing pretty solid.  My garmin was letting me know that I was getting each mile down in under 10 minutes which was my goal.  A few major tree pile ups but nothing too bad in this section down to Scotts Ford, my last low water bridge.  I portaged here for the last time and set off.  Just a mile down, and mile 36.5, I came up on a very tight S turn due to down trees and I set my angle too casually, clipped the right side, and had a branch grab my paddle and pull me over.  It happened fast! I tried a high brace but I didn’t have my knees under the hooks because I had been aggressively paddling so there was nothing to catch as I fell out.  I quickly grabbed my boat and paddle and starting pulling towards the side through the current. 

Thankfully, due to it being such a sharp S turn, the current took me near the shore and a large gravel bar.  I pulled myself and boat out and took inventory.

  I had lost my etrex which was on my deck, but somehow my phone which was right next to it had stayed on.  Major reality check for me and humbling experience as things had been going too well so far.  Water temp was around 50, air temp near there as well but I was wearing polypro tops and bottoms under a splash jack and rubber pants so I never felt cold here, but was now wet throughout.  Took a quick pic and back in the boat and forward.  It was rather fast paddling from here down to my next checkpoint at Onondaga SP. 

Onondaga was at mile 60 and as it was all ready 6:30, decided to make this a major stop.  I had my burger and shake but also got into new dry layers and switched up my top to a rain jack with hood so that I could wear a fleece beanie for the night and keep it dry.  It felt so good to be in dry clothes after paddling the past 4 hours wet.  With the sun going down, I was starting to get chilled as the temp was dropping.  I scarfed down a couple granola bars and fruit snacks as well to get calories in. Told my son to meet me 10 miles down at Blue Springs access for a final top off of liquid for the night.  Shoved off just after 7 and the darkness settled in by 8.  Wisps of fog and little fognados began swirling as well…not a good omen.  The temp was dropping fast and the water had warmed in previous days so it was a perfect setup for fog.  I have done fog, crazy fog, on the Missouri during the 340, but there you have nav that you can follow.  While I chose this weekend for the full moon, in the steep walled river valley, it was doing nothing for me and using my head lamp just blinded me for the fog reflection.  I reached my son at 9pm for one last stop.  I grabbed a new pedialyte squirt bottle and said farewell as he was driving home.  I was on my own now.  I shoved off into the dark and increasing fog.

  From 9pm till 11, the waves of fog thickened. Even with the moon higher, it was barely enough to highlight trees in the water.  The lakier sections were fine but I began to dread any bends in the river as that is where trees would be down in the water, sometimes just below the surface where you couldnt see them but they would catch your boat or paddle.  I was paddling slower and on high alert.  By 11pm, and roughly mile 90, it was bad.  I was now playing russian roulette with every riffle, unable to see hazards till they were just feet away.  A particularly bad one was at mile 95.  I was in a lake with houses to my left all lit up that ended with a large bluff wall in front of me as the river took a 90 right with a roaring sound.  The current was moving fast but I couldnt discern direction with the fog blowing sideways.  I turned what I felt was downstream as I entered the riffle which was moving fast.  With so much sound and the bluff wall to my left, I was sound blind to obstacles.  Out of now where, a large downed tree appeared less than 10 ft to my right as I bounced down the waves of the riffle.  I had not seen it till it was next to me.  Had I been 10 ft right…my journey probably ends here as I would not have recovered in the dark.  I was officially stressed out and on edge.  My wife had called and I had her in my ear for an hour or so after this experience which was calming and helped pass the time.  I knew I needed to stop, but I also knew that if I stopped it would mean paddling into a second night to finish.  I had in my head that I could be off the water by 5pm or so if I just pushed through.  I am stubborn about my goals to a fault at times.  During this time, I was paddling slower so I could hear obstacles better but that meant I was not creating as much warmth.

  My core tempo was dropping and I was starting to get chilled as I talked to my wife.  At around 1:30AM, and mile 106, I was coming up on another bend and more roaring.  I saw a large gravel bar to my right.  I was so cold, I had to pee, and my nerves were shot.  I mentally said F it, and pulled over.  I stumbled out of the kayak and grabbed my emergency dry bag with fire starters.  My feet and hands weren’t working too well from being so cold but I got my headlamp on and staggered around in the dark looking for any dry driftwood trapped in the willows at the edge of the gravel bar.  It had rained hard on Thursday eveningso the only dry wood was underneath debris.  I finally had a small armful after 15 minutes and went back to my boat.  I found a spot of sand and gravel and setup the wood and my firestarter sticks and managed to get a small fire started.  For 5 minutes I just sat there with my hands over the fire getting warmth back in them.

  I then headed back up the gravel bar for more wood as I knew my supply was really only good for getting it started.  I would go out and come back 4 times with wood before I felt comfortable with sitting at the fire.  I wrapped the mylar blanket around me and huddled over the fire for about 15 minutes soaking up the warmth till I felt comfortable enough to take all my top layers off and put on new, dry clothes.  2 fleece shirts and the rain jacket back on and I felt a world better and my spirits began to improve.  I wanted to change out of my wet booties into dry wool socks but the location of the wood was through some thick mud and I knew I would need more wood at some point so the feet just had to suffer.  I tried to curl up and use my lifejacket as a pillow but those mylar sheets just are not big enough to wrap up with and with the wind still blowing, I had to hold onto it pretty well.  Between 2 and 5am, I think I dozed off twice, only to awaken to being cold and need to restoke the fire.  My wife called shortly after 5 to check on me and we talked for awhile while I was constantly feeding the fire and wrapped in the blanket.  As dawn emerged, the reality was that it was even foggier now that when I pulled off at 1:30.  I could barely see my boat 20ft away initially.

  I would end up sitting by my fire till 7 when I packed up my supplies, got the boat ready and then returned to the fire for final warmth till I shoved off around 7:15 or so.  While still foggy, the sunlight filtering through gave me a better big picture of what the water was doing and where the obstacles were.  It as a good thing I pulled over when I did as the next 2 bends were littered with trees in the water that I would have never seen till too late.  

By 830, the fog had burned off and I was making good time again.  I had my wife meet me at mile 126 to get resupplied and have a breakfast sandwich and shake.  It was actually sunny on Saturday, and while a little windy, it was a southern wind which helped warm the air and bring up the spirits.  From that stop to Pacific Pinnacles, I started to crush out time.  I passed the confluence with the Bourbeuse river, a future run, and started to really see signs of civilization for the first time.  I also crossed my first humans of the trip as encountered jet boats and a couple jet skis passing through Catawissa.  At Pallisades, Bill Behrns was waiting with my wife to greet me at the resupply.  I didn’t get out of my boat, just had another double cheeseburger and shake and redbull to kick off the day.  I was now in the homestretch as I have paddled from here down numerous times in training and knew each mile well.  I was energized with calories, warmth, and a sense that the end was near.  I ticked off each mile faster.  Coming up on Route 66 SP, I saw a boater in the distance and Mark Fingerhut was waiting to paddle with me back to the ramp.  I shared my adventure thus far with him and we chatted for about 10 minutes till he had to stop at the ramp and I continued on.  He had offered a beer to celebrate but I was so occupied with getting to the finish that I was calculating every minute of time against my goals.  Pre-journey, I felt that 30-36 hours was a good goal and when dark fell day 1 I was on track for about 34 hours at my current pace.  The fog and cold killed that overnight but the new goal was sub 40 hours and I felt if I pushed hard these last 8 hours, I could do it.  

At Green Tree park in Valley Park, I met my wife for the last restock before the final push.  Jeff Behrns was there and a couple other friends to see me along.  My wife suggested I stop long enough to put new, dry clothes on and my beanie but I felt the end was near enough that I would be fine and didn’t want to waste time.  This would be a mistake and regret that would stick in my head the last couple hours.  The sun was setting as I pushed away from the ramp and I charged off with the finish line a mere 20 miles away.  

The first sign that things were amiss was typically there is a good riffle under the hwy 44 bridge, and, it was not there.  The next mile update on my garmin let me know that I was significantly slower than any other portion of the trip…backwater!  The last 18 miles were going to be with little to no current.  I had been enjoying a steady 3 mph current all day long help the miles melt away and now when I was at my weakest, starting to get chilled again, I would have to do more work than ever to keep up my pace.  Here too, with the river being it widest and in  the dark, it was hard to discern the path of the river at times since it branches out in lakes at times.  Darkness fell completely around George Winter Park.  I passed bridge after bridge in the final miles just waiting for the right bridge, the last one before the final takeout that would tell me I was 2 miles from the finish.  At this point my arms were just moving in circles, I couldn’t feel my fingers or their grip on the paddle anymore as the nerves had all gone numb.  I was cold, hungry, and tired and just wanted to be finished.  Finally I saw the last bridge as I was talking again with my wife and knew the final miles were here.  The wind was constant these last few miles and of course, directly in my face.  I put my head down and just ground out the strokes.  In the dark, I was a little nervous that I would get pulled out into the Mississippi when I reached the end so I was sticking close to the north side of the river towards the mouth so that I would have time to turn when I hit the end.  I saw the trees open up in the dark and knew the end was so close.  I gritted out the last 5 minutes pushing as hard as I could, so happy to end the stop button on my watch as I drifted the last couple of feet in the Mississippi and turned around.  At the time, I was mildly disappointed because doing the fuzzy math in my head, I thought I had come in at 40 hours and 21 minutes, so close to my goal.  I had been cursing the lack of current the past 20 miles or so for killing my goal.  It wouldn't be till the next morning when I went to look at my garmin data that I saw my head math was off and I had indeed my goal.  

From the confluence, it was a 2 mile paddle back up to the takeout.  Apparently there was a slight current because I couldn't muster better than 3-4 mph and the trip back took almost 30+ minutes.  3 times my heart stopped as beavers did tail slaps 10 feet from my boat.  Even though I knew what it was, it made me jump each time.  Pulling up to that ramp was the greatest release.  I knew I was done.  But, also a new challenge.  In the dark, in the cold, on a loose, riprock surface, I had to somehow get out of my boat and get it up as the ramp was damaged and 2ft above the water line.  I stumbled out with my feet swollen and not working great and with great help from my wife, managed to get all the gear out of the boat and get the boat up to the truck.  I got a new, dry top on and my puffy jacket and my wet gloves off.  We somehow managed to get the boat up on the truck and all the gear thrown in the back.  When we got in the truck it was just after 11pm.  I was cold and tired but stayed up to talk as she drove the 30 minutes back home.  A quick soak in an epsom salt bath and it was off to bed and the end of the adventure.

I shoved off at 7:01AM on Friday and hit the Mississippi at 10:22PM Saturday.  39 hours and 21 minutes.  I know I left time on the water due to weather and fog.  I still believe that sub 36 hours is possible in the right conditions.  My hands are blistered and numb as I write this up, shoulders a little sore, but spirits are good.  I have had enough time to reflect on the journey and put it all into perspective.  There were so many highlights along the way.  Those first 4 intense miles, the otter family running along the shore, the bald eagles sitting on their nests, the reminiscing of all the family trips I have taken along different sections of this river and memories that go with each.  I was reliving them to pass the time.  Seeing my son on day one at each of my stops and him encouraging me, chatting with my wife during my low moments both nights.  Even the fognados that humor me as they wisp along the river in front of me.  The swim as well, I took in stride and even laughed to myself about as I knew I had gotten too comfortable, too casually with how things were going and the river will always find a way to humble you.  At the end of the day, I feel this was a greater accomplishment than my 45 hour MR340 run.  Sure, that was hard, it was hot, I was fighting fatigue…but you don’t fight the river.  The Meramec and its constantly evolving nature and conditions puts your paddling skills to a much higher test and the cold temps only added to that challenge.  I'm glad it's over…for now.  I have other boxes to check and lessons learned from this to apply to the next great adventure.