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The Mecan (pronounced MI-can) is a narrow trout stream through the wooded central Wisconsin countryside. It makes for beautiful scenery. But the erosion force of the river current, plus time, equals downed trees across the channel. In our case, that was true in quite a few places.
I was the first to arrive and had some time to commune with the Germania Marsh. The expansive 2,500-acre wetland is held in place by the simple, 55-year-old steel and concrete dam. An osprey joined me, hovering on fluttering wings, looking for breakfast.
During the launch, the first of the paddlers drifted and puttered below the dam as others joined them. When our sweep man finally hit the water, we headed downstream, a long line on the river.
The original plan had been to travel down the Mecan, into the Fox River and take out in Princeton, more than 15 miles later. A check with a local outfitter warned us that the trip just to the Fox was taking more than five hours. We adjusted on the fly, cutting the trip to about 10 miles, ending at the County C landing. There, a very accommodating couple invited us to park on their property after we saturated the public parking.
We weren’t very far from the launch when we faced our first challenge. Our collection of kayaks and canoes would have to negotiate a minor rapids — about a class one-half on the International Scale of River Difficulty. We positioned experienced paddlers above and below.
Open boats got a cold wake-up as water splashed over the bow. Everyone made it — except one. It was a tall man in a small borrowed boat. He got wet. Here’s a point of instruction: Kayaks are made for a specific weight range.
He wouldn’t be the last person to get wet this day. No one got hurt or was in any real danger.
The problem was tight passages through downed limbs and paddlers with a range of experience and abilities. If one paddler misjudged the current and got sideways in the opening, the rest of the group waited while others worked to dislodge the boat.
Finding a safe place to wait was problematic at times. Even when it wasn’t, while helpers worked to free the paddler from being part of the obstruction, the mosquitos feasted.
In some cases, the paddler decided to bale out. In others, the current pushing the boat against the obstruction caused it to tip enough to take on water.
I had my own near-dunk experience. I was passing under a low limb with my head pressed to the deck when the back of my lifejacket caught on a twig.
I had made a calculated judgment at the start of the trip, opting not to seal myself into the boat with my sprayskirt because I expected to be getting in and out to portage around obstructions. Wrong call in this case.
As I struggled to free my snagged lifejacket, the flow pushed my kayak sideways and began to tip me with the open cockpit pointing into the current. I was able to use hip action to right myself before I took on water and finally freed the shoulder of the lifejacket from the limb.
Even a lunch stop at a highway bridge became more interesting when as I stepped forward to steady a boat for someone to exit, I sunk knee-deep in Mecan muck. Breaking the suction of the muck wasn’t easy. Coming away with my sandal still in place was miraculous.
A stream snaking through the woods and fields is a lovely sight but, I have to say, there was a point when I wanted to say, “Enough with the curves already.”
Six hours after the launch, the promise of “one more curve” was finally true. No one on shore seemed upset at our decision to shorten the trip. We were tired, but happy.
The Mecan River is so beautiful, you endure the downed trees, the portages, the mosquitos, the endless curves and the muck leggings and come away with a smile on your face.
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