On March 1, 2019– the day after the splendidly rowdy and irreverent Fisher Poets Gathering brought a hundred or so characters to the Hanthorn Cannery Museum in Astoria–another story teller showed up at the museum on Pier 39 at the east end of the waterfront. His name is Neal Moore and he also talks and writes about his adventures on the water. But any similarity ends there, because the boat he has chosen for his travels in a canoe, and he was about to begin paddling across the USA.
He explained to me that he was ready to embark on a transcontinental solo journey from the Pacific to the Atlantic, but not by the typical route to New Orleans or Florida. He had mapped out a marathon alternative that “tacked” across the country between the Gulf of Mexico and the Great Lakes navigating 22 waterways in 22 states before arriving in New York in a couple of years. It covered a total distance of 7,500-miles with a long portage over the Great Divide. As if that wasn’t enough of a challenge, his literary goal is equally ambitious: to collect 100 stories from 100 cities and towns “to tell the story of America.”
However, Neal is not just another blogger: he was called a “modern-day Huck Finn” by CNN, when he reported on his 2,200-mile canoe journey down the length of the Mississippi River in 2009. They published many of his reports on CNN.com as a “citizen reporter.” His book about that journey “Down the Mississippi” was published by the Mark Twain Museum Press of Hannibal, Missouri. It includes many quotes from the great writer about the historic riverboat towns that Neal re-discovers 150 years later. The book has received positive reviews for its perceptive and literary style.
After a decade of foreign travel, he is still committed to meeting Americans who live by the water and listening to the stories they have to tell. His optimism was downright infectious, and even the need to portage his boat and gear a total of 168 miles using a small cart didn’t phase him. But I wasn’t the only local boater who lectured him on safety on the might Columbia River—the water temperature, headwinds, dams etc. Floyd Holcom, a former gillnetter and the owner of Pier 39 and Astoria SCUBA, fitted him with a dry suit and provided a base where he could get organized, while interviewing some Astorians for his first video report.
Departure day was clear but cold as we loaded the canoe with all his gear in watertight bags. Floyd made sure everything was properly stowed and secured. while I filmed the scene with Neal’s camera. Then he cast off and I pulled out my own camera and started shooting as I followed him out of the East Mooring Basin and into the flooding tide. (He used one of those photos to headline his Facebook page–(https://www.facebook.com/alittlewake/) Then I realized my little camera also had a video-mode, so I switched it to record as he headed out towards the anchored ships.
That was the last time we saw him, but he has called as regularly and we continue to follow his exploits online. This is how he described the feeling that day: “So, let’s get to it – roll up our sleeves, get our feet wet, and in the spirit of Mark Twain, light out for the territory!” He experienced a full range of weather on the way to Portland, as he followed the official campsites of the Lower Columbia Water Trail. After a week of strenuous paddling in all kinds of weather, he took a break in Portland until April. One of his contacts built a cart to carry his boat around the dams, and he researched the urban scene for his second report.
April was only a little kinder than March, but Neal cheerfully headed into the Columbia Gorge and soon learned why this is a world center for board and kite sailing, as he faced winds from the east and lost any help from the tide. paddling up the mighty Columbia. He successfully negotiated the Bonneville Dam and the historic Cascade Locks area. In Hood River, he found some new friends and interesting people including the mayor to interview. “I want to tap into our collective experience, and listen – to individuals, families, and communities rising above themselves – from sea to shining sea,” he wrote.
Then he resumed the journey upstream toward The Dalles Dam. That was where the journey almost came to an end. When he began his first portage around The Dalles Dam, his new hand trailer turned into a disaster. The heavily loaded fiberglass hull sagged and cracked from the stress over the axle. A phone call later, he was on his way back to Hood River in a pick up and searching for a replacement. He found one the next day across the river in White Salmon, Washington, and his friends were happy to help him pick up a rugged Old Town boat. (This was built with their exclusive Royalex process–now discontinued. He called me to check that this sandwich core between two layers of plastic was a better laminate.)
Back on the river, it wasn’t long before Neal had another mishap—the new boat was swamped by the chop breaking over the bow east of The Dalles, and he needed help from a passing boater to get to shore. But like Lewis and Clark, he watched the wind carefully, and “proceeded on.” He met some Native American fishermen in the upper gorge, and spent several days learning about their community and way of life. Here is that report: April 23: I had the pleasure to meet up with Bud Herrera of the Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish Commission.
Bud is an Umatilla, a fisherman and entrepreneur who lives near the Rufus Landing Recreation Area where I recently made camp. We traded goods (he told me with a laugh, just like 150 years ago. He gave me a beaded salmon necklace so that other Native Americans I meet along my journey will know that I’m a friend, dried salmon for energy, which he calledS “gold”, and his own personal copy of Shadow Tribe: The Making of Columbia River Indian Identity by Andrew H. Fisher I gave what I could: organic coffee, a honey crisp apple, and the promise of a signed copy of my previous expedition memoir, Down the Mississippi.
Above the tri-cities, in the Hanford Reach area, he resorted to hauling his boat on wheels when the current was impassable, and after many trials, reached Wenatchee on May 20. “With the paddling, combined with the journalism, you feel like you’ve earned these towns,” he said. “You’re paddling, sometimes for days and days, and the story ideas are swirling around in your mind. Then you step into a town, and you’re so excited to be there, and now you’re trying to pull off a story of international consequence. It’s a mental challenge on top of the physical challenge,” he told the local newspaper.