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2012-04-15 tl;dr: I paddled past the Sugar River into the Rock River and down past Rockford. In the wind and rain. It rained and stormed most of the night. I'd like to say that I slept through it all, but that wouldn't be truthful. There was at least one flashBANG.Yesterday I saw deer crossing the river. Today a coyote. I know that hound a few days ago crossed it. The river doesn't seem to slow down critters much. It rained off and on throughout the day, but it was a dry rain; that is, it quickly evaporated. I finished off the final eighteen miles of the Pecatonica River, meeting up with the Sugar River along the way. Finally I entered the Rock River where the mile markers were reset to 156. Once on the Rock River it was all into the wind. A very strong wind. Because of the dam in Rockford I eventually lost the assistance of current. I spent half the day fighting my way against the wind down to the heart of Rockford. I stopped at several parks to try and find drinking water, but to no avail. The river here is mostly bordered by houses, many of them unnecessarily big. Finally I spied some older folks sipping wine. There was a hose near them so I beached and asked for water. I can only imagine how incredibly uncouth I looked. But they filled me up and sent me on my way. All day I only met two other boats. It was Sunday, so I expected more. But it was also very crappy weather. The dam in Rockford is supposed to have a safety line and buoys to keep people like me from going over. I found those later downstream wrapped around a tree. Fortunately, I was expecting the dam. I dragged my kayak out out of the water, past the dam and down to the rapids under the watchful eye of a dozen fisherman, one who called out, "You're crazy!" I was whipped, so I started looking for a place to camp, but all the good spots were taken (by locals). So I decided to camp on one of the many islands I knew would be downstream. The first island was little more than a disgusting ick of slimy pollution. The second group of islands were a sieve for collecting garbage. I skipped a few more islands because they were so close to a noisy bridge. Finally I settled on an island lacking a No Trespassing sign, likely because it had rotted away. Another storm came through just as it was getting dark. Rain pelted the tent, which was not at all protected from the driving wind. Suddenly, as the wind picked up, I could hear a growing whine and rumble. It grew in intensity. Ah, just another jet taking off. I am camped right next to the Chicago Rockford International Airport, which seems amazingly busy for a Sunday night. |
 mouth of Sugar River  wider  turkeys  how coot  almost finished  entering the Rock River  just getting started   here be dragons   Rockford  Fordham Dam  below the dam  island camping |