Conquering the Mighty Mackinaw
by Scott Shaffer

Ugh … again–my kayak scrapes the sandy, rocky riverbed.
So much for a leisurely jaunt down the Mackinaw with my buddy

to experience this winding, sometimes writhing water serpent.
Today there’s more danger of frustration than drowning.

Venerable trees on both banks reveal their tangled root beards, straining toward
receded water. Every few minutes, both boats run aground,

we hop out, trudge along dragging them to deeper pools–
clear, not too cold, but we’re soaked. Car parked downstream,

we soldier on. Muck splatters up our legs, as we portage
over sporadic, mushy little “islands”; occasionally, we pause on one

to drain splashes from our cockpits; soon we stink like rotten eggs.
A snarled mess of slimy logs, branches, and leaves halts our progress.

Like chess players, we plot our sequence of moves: Where do we cross? Will that
spot support me? How can I get my kayak over that limb?

Victory! But my craft teeters and flips! Whew, I don’t plunge under.
A three-hour trip takes eight hours of muck-filled memories:

willowy fawns springing across shallows; an eagle flashing his white tail while
leading us downriver; comrades conquering challenges; soul rest.



 

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