Minnesota Museum of the Mississippi - Field Trips

A trip down the North Branch of the Chicago River from Foster Avenue to Lake Michigan, by kayak and bicycle.

Stepping off from Wolf Point once again, there isn't much left of our journey, but with today's heavy boat traffic, and the narrow walled-in channel through downtown, this last short stretch may be the most dangerous.

I'm a little worried about the traffic, so I follow the shore closely after taking this photo. Up above on street level I can see the famous Heads of Mercantile Commerce at the Merchandise Mart. Can you identify each one?

Soon I'm creeping along to the underground boat docks at Marina City, which I'd always been curious about. But when I attempt to proceed past the Marina City docks, a sudden onslaught of power boats chugging along two abreast leaves so little room in the river I retreat immediately. I watch angrily as they bear down on me without adjusting their courses, their wakes threatening to capsize me, forcing me into geometric gymnastics to try predict which way to point the bow in order to ride out the chopping waves without taking on water.

Suddenly in my anger I realize that the reason I'm having such trouble with the other boats is that I'm going against traffic down the wrong side of the river. Now I feel really stupid. Turning around to get back to a good place to cross over to the other side, immediately a wake from one of the big cruisers washes right over the side of my boat, swamping my pants and leaving me sitting in a puddle. Ugh.

At last the drama is over. I think everything's under control. I'm on the right side of traffic, not hindering anyone, just moving along bit slower than all the other boats. I keep glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone is sneaking up behind me. Approaching the Michigan Avenue Bridge, I see some tourists leaning over the rail waving at me. "Hi, little red boat!" they greet me, "Be careful down there! Don't sink!" Well, I wish they'd warned me earlier, back before my close call by Marina City. I must look pretty out of place and vulnerable down here in a tiny inflatable boat. But I trust the Red Rat, it really is sturdier and more stable than it first appears.

The channel widens a bit and traffic lessens. I follow the seawall along the riverwalk, past the Water Reclamation District fountain. Luckily it isn't shooting across the river right now. I'm already wet enough.

Ahead the horizon opens up again. There, through the last gateway of the city, the Outer Drive bridge, I can finally see Lake Michigan. Its exciting to see it at last, but a bit frightening in its hugeness and wide-open expanse of water. I guess I've become used to the little river, accustomed to its close banks and murky water. Passing under the steel archway, a wind is coming up, pushing me along farther and faster toward the lake. I duck to the right near the shore to wait out the traffic of power boats coming out of the locks from the lake. Suddenly there is a police boat beside me and immediately I'm scared he's going to give me a lecture about inflatable boats being illegal in the city or something. But no, he warns me that a big storm is blowing in from the west. In just 45 minutes they expect 50 mph winds and heavy rain.

Well, I'm almost at my take-out point, anyway. Finally there's a break in the stream of boats and I can quickly head across the channel and north into the Ogden Slip. Another tour boat captain yells out the same warning about the storm, but soon enough I am in the Ogden Slip, and its just a matter of fighting the west wind down to the end where a tall concrete staircase provides one of the few exits from the river downtown.

I'm not sure if this is an approved boat landing, so I quickly pull the boat up onto the stairs and deflate it. Reversing the foot pump, I can actually suck the air out of the boat and flatten it. Snap go the paddles apart and into their bag. The boat itself rolls up and can barely fit into a duffel bag I've brought along. Sue carries the life jacket and paddles and then we're ready to walk down to the Grand subway station and ride the train home, just in time before the storm hits.

Copyright 2001 Matt Bergstrom.