Guerrilla paddling in Illinois
Paddle Sports with Mike Svob
| Canoeing Adventures in Northern Illinois: Apple River to Zuma Creek by Bob Tyler. 2004. iUniverse, Inc. |
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For many years, diehard paddlers have looked forward to Bob Tyler's long-promised book on northern Illinois rivers and creeks. Thus, back in March, I was pleased to get an e-mail from an old friend, Tom Lindblade, indicating that Bob's book would soon be published and would be available from the publisher at www.iUniverse.com. I quickly ordered a copy and literally read every word within a couple of days.
Over all, Canoeing Adventures in Northern Illinois was certainly
worth waiting for. I enjoyed it on several levels, learned a great deal from it, and recommend it to serious paddlers in northern Illinois, southern Wisconsin, and perhaps western Indiana and eastern Iowa (with a few reservations that I'll get to later).
In accord with the title, Bob covers only the northernmost one-fourth of the state, venturing no farther south than the Vermilion River (the one that flows into the Illinois River near La Salle-Peru). Altogether, he
provides descriptions of 58 different rivers and creeks most of which (naturally) are tributaries of the Mississippi, Pecatonica, Rock, Fox, Des Plaines and Illinois rivers.
For me, the biggest allure of the book is the inclusion of more than three dozen small, out-of-the-way, and seldom (if ever) paddled creeks. All of us who have permanent canoe racks growing out of the roofs of our vehicles continually find ourselves wondering, as we drive over bridges,
whether the tiny streams beneath are paddleable and what adventures we're missing. Like many other warhorse canoeists, I've done a lot of small-creek exploration over the years, and some of the ventures have created wonderful memories (from the West Branch of Big Bureau Creek in northern Illinois to Lusk Creek in the south). Others, however, proved to be thoroughly miserable as a result of stream blocking fences, dangerous old dams, disappearing stream channels, seemingly
never-ending logjams, and other challenges.
And therein lies the principal attraction of Bob's new book. By devoting 70 percent of it to obscure, previously undescribed streams, some warranting the term "microcreeks" like Bailey Creek, Ferson Creek, Pecumsaugan Creek and the Sinsiniwa River he provides us, for the first time, with an authoritative means to make informed decisions about paddling in off-the-beaten-path locations.
The war stories
Make no mistake about it some of his accounts are fascinatingly horrifying, resembling the "war stories" that paddlers love to share while hoisting a cold one after a day on the river. For example, many a description recounts mind-boggling encounters with deadfall. Spring Creek, for instance, with its "42 logjams in the 13 miles we traversed." On a couple of creeks the North Branch of the Nippersink, for example
he recalls "pulling the canoe over one tree while looking back upstream at the last two pullovers and downstream at the next two."
Other incredible confrontations with logjams are described in the chapters on Franklin Creek, Pecumsaugan Creek, the East Fork of the Little Calumet River, Stillmans Creek, Plum River and many others.
Similarly, he tells of numerous fences and bridges that blocked downstream progress. One of the worst occurred at a bridge on
Piscasaw Creek: "Can't go over, can't go around, can't even get to the road to take out. The only alternative I had was to sink my boat and push it under the fence and then I, too, was forced to pass under this fence, getting very wet in the process. Once under the bridge, I was forced to repeat the procedure to get out the other side." For a comparable horror story, read about the man-made barricades on Indian Creek on Page 68.
Thus, one of the most valuable aspects of Bob's book is that it saves readers from finding out for themselves how miserable some of these streams can be, wholly or partly. You're forewarned that the Green River is boringly channelized, that Indian Creek "is not worth the risk of being arrested," or that Pecumsaugan Creek "is best left to the birds." You learn that lower Franklin Creek averages "10 to 15 logjams per
mile" after an attractive, less-obstructed upper stretch; that the Des Plaines "has sections that are outstanding along with sections that are the pits"; that "the difficult portages and dangerous conditions on the lower section (of Bailey Creek) make this a trip that might be better to pass up," and that Silver Springs State Park "is an excellent takeout following a lousy trip on Little Rock Creek." Aux Sable Creek he sums up as
"blah. Running this creek is not worth it."
Of course, such trips are inevitable when one habitually engages in "Guerrilla Paddling in Illinois," the title of the talk that Bob and Tom Lindblade presented at Canoecopia in March when previewing Bob's book (which appeared the following month). The frequent joys that are found when exploring little-known streams are counterbalanced by "character-building" experiences of the "been there, done that, but I'll
never do it again" variety.
In my own guidebooks for paddling Wisconsin and Illinois (based on a "best of the best" selection criterion), for every river section that ended up in a book, there were one or two other sections that I had also paddled but ended up eliminating because I didn't want to wish unpleasant experiences on anyone else.
I want to emphasize that, even when a chapter in Bob's book recounts a
stream that is, to say the least, trying, he is still making a contribution to our paddle sports. Not only is the account always fascinating to read, but it also provides you with all the information you need in order to make your own decision about where (and whether) to paddle. As you read through the book, you will soon be impressed with the incredible degree of commitment and perseverance that it required.
Bob enthusiastically provides a great deal of information on many
gorgeous paddling venues in northern Illinois. You'll read about the fantastic scenery of little Carroll Creek, for instance. Like many of the other streams in the book, it's hard to catch with enough water, and I've always been uneasy about the private-property issues but wow, is it beautiful! I completely share Bob's assessment of Carroll Creek "The best creek in this volume," he calls it. He describes Illinois' best
whitewater river the Little Vermilion perfectly and includes some excellent photographs. When he ends the chapter with an all-caps exclamation, "I LOVE THIS RIVER!" you understand completely why he feels so strongly about it.
A long, admiring description is provided for Big Bureau Creek "The nicest family trip I can think of." There are other enticing descriptions, too, that will make you want to try your hand at new destinations: Covel
Creek, Yellow Creek, parts of the south branch of the Kishwaukee, and many others. Even some of the creeks that are generally to be shied away from also have sections that are quite attractive.
Bob is very thorough in tracing virtually all of the canoeable (and sometimes barely canoeable!) sections of familiar streams like the Rock, Du Page, Des Plaines, Fox, Pecatonica, Sugar and Kishwaukee rivers, and such well-known creeks as the Nippersink and Salt. Most of the
other streams will be unfamiliar territory for 99 out of 100 paddlers, and thus are a lot of fun to read about.
Bob pulls no punches. If he's disgusted by a stream's pollution, he says so (e.g., Hickory Creek). He often expresses regret that the DNR isn't more active providing more canoe landings, clearing logjams and engaging in other activities to promote paddling on otherwise attractive streams (e.g., Franklin Creek). But he also doesn't withhold praise when
an agency is proactive (as on the Nippersink). He does not sugarcoat the downside of otherwise positive streams; the Pecatonica, for instance, always has enough water to paddle, he says, but good accesses are too far apart, and the high, muddy banks make landings messy.
A few caveats
Bob's many years of canoeing experience are apparent throughout, and the result is a book that all dedicated paddlers will enjoy. While I have
my "book critic" hat on, however, I'll add a few reservations.
First, the lack of maps is a big shortcoming. Each chapter provides cross-references to the De Lorme Gazetteer, which is a prerequisite for all paddlers but which doesn't begin to provide the detail found in a good guidebook. All that is provided is a hand-drawn map at the end of the book to indicate the relative location of the various streams. The
result is a work that feels more like a collection of personal experiences than a guidebook.
One of the big pluses of the book is the inclusion of a wealth of historical material, painstakingly researched at numerous libraries. Unfortunately, this material is clumsily incorporated into the stream descriptions and personal anecdotes. Sidebars would help immensely, or at least occasional subtitles to organize and break up the long, long swaths of
unrelieved text. Typographically, the book is very unattractive and uninviting.
It's unfortunate, too, that the editing didn't match the quality of the content. Glaring misspellings abound from beginning to end, for example, together with run-on sentences and many other distractions. The book certainly deserved a more imaginative layout and more competent proofreading and editing. Apparently the publisher (a self-publishing company) does not include editing and layout in its basic package.
Informationally and aesthetically, 61 photos add impact to the book, but are poorly positioned.
My final qualms have to do with a safety concern, on one hand, and a trespassing issue on the other. I feel strongly that guidebook writers should bend over backwards to keep paddlers away from dangerous dams (i.e., MOST dams). Generally, Bob is careful about providing such warnings (see his comments on the Yorkville Dam on Page 54, for
instance), but I winced a few times when he leaves the dam-running decision up to the reader.
Of the 4-foot dam on the Little Vermilion, for instance, he says, "It is best run about 10 feet from the left side. Scout it first because at certain levels the hole becomes terminal." Yikes! Why not just recommend portaging, period? An even more puzzling example comes in his chapter on Big Rock Creek, where he warns of a 3-foot dam, then says that he
always runs it, then immediately warns again "that dams can kill." That doesn't make sense.
Moreover, in the interests of encouraging supercaution at dams, it probably isn't prudent for Bob to say in his introduction (with no small amount of hubris), "Now I run as many dams as I portage, but then I run Class IV rapids numerous times each year. I'm not saying that it is all a matter of skill, although it helps."
It's instances like these, together with the fact that the majority of streams in the book have to be run after considerable rainfall (thus heightening the danger factor), that leads me to conclude that the book is most suitable for experienced boaters.
On the trespassing issue, Bob frequently emphasizes the importance of avoiding confrontation with property owners. (This is critically important in Illinois because of its antediluvian stream navigability laws.) Thus, it
came as a jolt when he introduced his very first chapter by rather brazenly flouting the boating prohibition in Apple River Canyon State Park. Unfortunately, a large number of the streams described in the book raise trespassing questions.
Despite these reservations, Canoeing Adventures in Northern Illinois deserves a thumbs up. In fact, in the soon-to-be-released third edition of Paddling Illinois, I recommend Bob's book as a complement to my own.
How to get a copy
You can order Bob's book online from www.amazon.com or from the publisher at www.iUniverse.com. Chicago-area paddlers can pick up a copy at Chicagoland Canoe Base.
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