Eye To Eye - Mississippi River Swim - 2002

Let me describe the first day of Martin Strel's swim down the Mississippi River.
Sitting in the water near the bank of the river Martin reaches down and dowses his face with cupped hands full of stream water. Next, going through his routine like a batter preparing for his turn at the plate, he adjusts his goggles. Finally, a wave to the crowd and Splash!, he's gone. I'm standing on a log across the stream a few yards down, holding an inflatable arch, which says, ironically, "FINISH" on both sides. Like an eel he flashes beneath me and with a few powerful strokes he is gone around the bend. It all happens so fast that even his escort kayakers are caught by surprise and have to scramble to catch up.
The first mile is a confusion of branches, submerged logs and whistles, as the kayakers try to direct Martin through the tight bends of the swiftly-flowing stream. The three men have to learn their roles by trial and error. Ultimately, they learn that they are to form a phalanx around Martin, one on either side of him and one to the front or to the rear; but there isn't room for that yet and everything is happening way too fast. They reach the first highway bridge, which is nothing more than a culvert under the roadway, and a decision has to be made quickly. "Do I go through?" Martin asks, but before anyone can answer he turns over on his back and slides feet first down through the dark tunnel and "splash" into the pool on the other side. The curtain is up on the first act of the Eye to Eye drama.
Meanwhile, back at the starting point, the rest of us on the stage crew are busy striking the set. Chaotically, and with a mixture of anticlimax and residual excitement, we begin the process of learning our own roles in the play. Some of us pass out brochures and postcards to the onlookers while others deflate the balloon arch. Once all the gear is stowed, we head out for the next stop, with me driving the motorhome, our chuckwagon; Martin's son Borut, our advance scout, driving the van; and the rest of the sundry vehicles following behind like a wagon train setting out across the prairie.
At the afternoon stop a decision must be made. Martin wants to swim 10 more miles. It's late, but the summer days are long. We have no choice but to shift gears and go into re-planning mode. The river crew launches again and the rest of us set out to locate a new place to stop for the night. We find a mosquito-infested campsite by a bridge where we can wedge the motorhome into a spot for the night and are barely settled when the unexpectedly early arrival of Martin and the kayakers catches us by surprise. Fortunately our cook, Pavle, is not caught by surprise, and he has dinner ready - a hearty stew of potatoes, meat and vegetables, the first taste of Slovenian food for many of us. Martin drinks his celebrated "litre of wine" while the rest of us toast the successful first day with beer and soft drinks.
Each of the 67 days that follows is a variant of that first day. A routine evolves that ebbs and flows in response to the conditions on the river, the weather, the towns we're passing through, and the people we're meeting. Our lives are a collage of Slovenian flags hanging from bridges, shouts of "Gremo!" and "Go Martin!", mosquitoes, hotels, and endless highways. Decisions are made like bursts of machine-gun fire. There is no time, no time - no time to think, no time to plan. Only short-term decisions are possible, and we will suffer from that.
Martin defeats the endless bogs and swamps of the Mississippi headwaters, where even the wary can take a wrong turn. Then comes the long approach to Lake Winnibigoshish - the 16-mile lake whose fickle winds and waves have stopped many an adventurer. Here even Martin must check his advance. We are forced to pull out early the day before we reach the lake to allow a full day for the crossing - being caught in the darkness on Winnie would be a disaster. A hard rain falls during the night and we launch under threatening clouds. The sky clears and by midday the wind is kicking up giant waves, but there is no stopping Martin and Lake Winnie too is conquered.
Martin paces in pain through the long nights and during the days he is immersed in the river, but at times it seems for all of us that there is no solid ground. The nature of the situation is that no decision is immune to change. Planning must be done on a moment's notice.
Reporters ask Martin "What do you think about?" and they receive vague explanations. But we know - it's a tally of every meter swum, every hour passed, every dollar spent; and it's a constant gauging of the current, the wind and the waves. The current - or lack of it - obsesses him. To cut across it like an armature slicing through a magnetic field eats away his strength in the daylight hours, and he rails at his guides in the kayaks. When the current is too weak he calls out "Mississippi River, no, this is Mississippi Lake", and it is amusing at first.
We have our victories and rewards. A simple thing like the sound of the walkie-talkie crackling with "Borut or Guy, do you copy?" from Byron, David or Matt is always a relief. We know they are nearing our position and soon we will see the flashing of the wet paddles across a vast swamp or around a bend in a long stretch of river. There is a heady excitement that pervades all who are involved with the project and engulfs the people we meet along the way. At nearly every stop there are a few people whose imaginations are captured by Martin's Mission. They open their lives to us in exchange for feeling a part of what we are doing. Our other main joy is the river itself. The kayakers spend countless hours in its presence, but even though it only intersects my course a few times a day, it still soothes me.
The itinerary of the first two weeks reads like a lesson in Minnesota geography. We are celebrated in Bemidji, ignored in Grand Rapids and feted in Aitkin. It is in Aitkin too that we first encounter the ghost of Billy Curmano. And we continue rolling down the river. Brainerd, Little Falls, St. Cloud - the memory of every town is painted by the reception we receive in it.
We finally reach the Twin Cities only about a day and a half behind the schedule we all thought was insane from the start. Only a day and a half! It's nothing, why pay any attention to that schedule in the first place? But the newspapers and the TV grab onto it and won't let go. "Are you worried that you are behind schedule?" they ask all of us. "What schedule?" I ask them, "You mean the one that was drawn in Slovenia without ever having seen the river?" "We're not behind schedule." Martin has told us he will easily catch and surpass that thumbnail schedule. And we all come to believe it, even those of us with experience who know what is ahead, because it is hard not to believe in Martin. As Borut once said to me "Nothing stops Martin!"
So we launch into the section of the locks and dams. Martin pushes himself and the rest of us to the limit and beyond. There is a sense that he is carrying all of us into the realm of the superhuman, and that our task and his Mission supercede all other considerations. We feel that we answer to no one but Martin. We are above the law - our Mission is holy. There is talk of the team, but no, this is not a team, we are servants to his mastership. In this way the 29 locks are conquered, not with grace, but with pure will. On the rare occasions when that will is challenged, it is not good; the mood is heavy and the reaction harsh. But, after all of it, the locks are behind us. In Alton and St. Louis we celebrate that victory.
I say "we" celebrate, but in truth I'm unable to partake fully. My world is stress and I carry it on my back. The headiness and excitement still come at times, but it is not enough and I'm not nourished by the adulation. That course is now reserved for Martin and the kayakers. It's petty, but I'm human. Knowing in my own heart that I'm doing a good job is not enough.
We're entering the Big River now, and the dangers for the men on the river will be perilous and relentless. For Borut and me too there are some real physical dangers. A month of sleep deprivation has us regularly falling asleep behind the wheels of our vehicles. But my greater danger is to my psyche. Lily is with me for a while, and my parents are constantly there, but talking is a limited release. There isn't time to develop a real friendship with any of the Slovenians, most of whom come to work with us for a short time and then return. We just get to know someone and begin to develop a way of working together and perhaps a level of camaraderie, and they are gone.
The weeks of the trip after Cairo, Illinois, are a blur of backcountry roads - countless hours driving through a maze in dread of not arriving on time. I'm close to quitting several times, but it is Borut who keeps me there. He is devoted to his father and dedicated to the Mission in a way that I can never be, and his spirit is so pure that I can't bear the idea of failing him.
In the end I didn't quit and I didn't fail. We passed the borders of Kentucky and Tennessee, of Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana. The kayakers battled the wind and the currents. The challenges of the shore team, while not as visible, were equal in magnitude. Most of all, we found the way. Through the maze we found the way for Martin to reach the river and return each day for 68 days. We brought him lunch every day, sometimes having to drive 100 miles to get from a spot on the river to the equivalent spot on the other side. We arranged boat escorts, reserved hotel rooms, solicited massage for Martin when his pain got to be too much, arranged telephone interviews and television, radio, and newspaper coverage, maintained the vehicles - the list is endless.
Martin Strel is a remarkable man, an iron man, and his place in the record books was hard fought and well deserved. With the help of an exceptional group of supporters he has accomplished the seemingly impossible. The Mississippi River Swim of 2002 was an epic adventure, complete with all the necessary ingredients. Living an epic is never easy, but it is worth it when you reach the end and can look back and say "Hah, I believe I learned something from that!"
Guy Haglund - October, 2002

Postscript

I mentioned our crew and the wonderful people we met along the way. I'd like to acknowledge everyone who played a part in our adventure. If I miss anyone, please forgive me, there were so many. Also, please excuse me for any misspellings, especially in the Slovenian names.

The crew: Martin Strel, Borut Strel, Byron Curtis, Matt Moelkhe, David Hale, Pavle Martonosi, Guy Haglund
The family: Nina Strel, Wendy and Isaac Curtis, Steve and Evelyn Moelkhe, Sarah McCurdy, Jackie Haglund, Roger and Faye Haglund, Lily Moya
Representatives of Martin's organizing committee: Jelko Kacin, Borut Farcnik, William Perry
Representative of general sponsor Mobitel: Tomas Menih
Ambassadors of Slovenia: Tone Gogala, Davorin Kracun
The internet guys: Gašper Markic, Tomaš Polak, Anze Kacin, Grega Stojanovic, Sandi Murovec
The journalists: Edi Pucer, Danis Ostir, Matjaz Raznoznik, Domen Mal, Robert Balen, Zvezdana Brecko
Assistants in Slovenia: Urša Vucer, Ida Vidmar
Slovenian contacts in Minnesota: Yul Yost, Ken Zapp, Andrew Percic
More friendly Slovenians: Blanca Farcnik, Andreja Kacin, Mateja de Leoni Stanovnik, Anrej & Krista Klemencic, John & Jo Pouchnik, Sophia
Old friends and new friends: Richard & Bernie Lehmann, Craig and Paige Brown, Cass Lake Episcopal Camp, Doris Doty, Big Sandy Lodge, Sue Newman, Tim Ratliff, Henry Hutchison, Mark Schultz, Mihail Temali, Carol Lukas, Susy Strgar, B. Koch, Mike Cichanowski, Tom Watson, Larry and Phyllis Cassaday, Tina and Cassie Thompson, Jim and Nancy Vogt, Marvin Fussell and Teresa Coon and Merissa and Jenna, Sharon Illa, Charlie Walters, Ruthie Critten, Captain Bob Peyman and Dolly Heil and the rest of the crew of the Anastasia, Riley Fitzgerald, Ken and Wanda Jones, Richard Ford, Scott and Sue Swinney, Cheryl Line, Jamie Zelazny, Lane and Joy Smith, Nathan, Carla and Shannon Desport

Photo Gallery

Introduction to Minnesota - August 2001

Martin, Guy and Lily	Martin with Guy and Yul	Martin at the source of the Mississippi	Martin at the source of the Mississippi	The Mississippi near Lake Itasca
The source of the Mississippi	Martin swimming at the source of the Mississippi	Martin after his swim	Tourist sites in Minnesota	Tourist sites in Minnesota

Preparations - Winter/Spring 2002

Checking out one of the Wenonah kayaks	Byron and Matt checking out the kayaks at Ketter Canoeing	Byron and Matt checking out the kayaks at Ketter Canoeing	Byron and Matt checking out the kayaks at Ketter Canoeing
Matt and Wendi at Ketter Canoeing	Byron and Matt trying out the kayaks at Ketter Canoeing	Byron, Wendi and Isaac	Guy and Matt with their Voyageur hats

Arrival and launch - June/July 2002

At the airport	Borut & Nina	Edi, Pavle, Borut Guy & Gasper in Yul's yard	Guy, Jackie & Martin	Edi, Pavle & Jelko	Preparations before the launch	The Haglunds	Jelko, Martin, Sarah and the balloon arch
Lily & Guy at the source of the Mississippi	Guy, Jelko, Martin and Tone Gogala at the beginning	Guy, Jelko and Martin	Bemidji Mayor Richard Lehmann makes a presentation to Martin	Ready...	Set...	Go!!

Lake Itasca to Grand Rapids - July 4 to July 9, 2002

Arrival at the first lunch stop	Edi interviewing Martin	Conference on the bridge	Martin, Borut Guy and Lily	Flag-draped arch in Bemidji	Martin with the mayor of Bemidji	Presentation in Bemidji	At the bridge after Lake Bemidji
Charting the course for the afternoon	Guy at work	Guy catching up on his journal	Matt and Guy testing the water	Guy on Lake Winnie	Sarah on Lake Winnibigoshish	Byron and Matt on Lake Winnie	Byron in the middle of the lake
On lake Winnie	Borut & Gasper	Roger in the canoe	Guy swimming	Byron, Martin and Guy	Byron, Martin and Guy	Martin and Guy

Grand Rapids to Aitkin - July 10 to July 14, 2002

Guy working on the van	Guy, Willow Sedore and Martin	The crew in Grand Rapids	Launch below the Blandin dam	Sarah again	Safari at Big Sandy Lake	Martin the otter	Borut covered with mosquitoes
Our van	Borut getting the signature for Guinness Book of World Records verification	Greeting in Aitkin	Greeting in Aitkin	Arrival in the Minnesota bayou

Aitkin to the Twin Cities - July 11 to July 18, 2002

Henry Hutchison giving a ride to Dad	Hutch gives a ride to Martin	In Brainerd	Brainerd	Little Falls	Little Falls	Near Royalton	Near Royalton
Martin	Martin	Sauk Rapids	Dinner in the motorhome	Our cook, Pavle

The Twin Cities to the Quad Cities - July 19 to August 1, 2002

At the Minneapolis Rowing Club	At the Minneapolis Rowing Club	The crew in Prescott, Wisconsin	Borut, Martin and Nina	Guy and the motorhome	Guy and Borut	Larry's boat the Miss Philly I	Byron repairing Matt's Kayak
Approaching a lock	Entering a lock	Entering a lock	Martin	Borut and Martin	Nina and Tomas	Sunset on the river near Tete des Morts creek	Swimming into lock 13
In lock 13	In the lock	Phyllis Cassaday, Cassie & Tina Thompson, and Larry Cassaday	Approaching another lock	Larry's boat	The crew in Guttenberg, Iowa	Martin autographing lifejackets	Young boy fishing
The crew in Fort Madison, Iowa	Guy studying the map	Morning in Bettendorf, IA	Marvin, Jenna, and Merissa Fussell

The Quad Cities to St. Louis - August 1 to August 10, 2002

Guy piloting the Miss Philly I	The crew in Canton, Missouri	Cassie and Nina	Cassie and Nina trying to catch Martin	Byron and Friend in Louisiana, MO	Anze at work	David, Martin and Byron	Pavle, Martin, Borut and Matt
Nina and Pavle aboard ferry	Martin and Guy	Borut, Guy and Martin in Oquawka, Illinois	Martin & Matt	Bridge at Alton, IL	The Anastasia Alton, Illinois	Crew of the Anastasia, Alton, IL	Lily and Guy
Faye, Lily, Guy & Roger	Martin & children	Matt & children	Slovenian flag near the Gateway Arch, St. Louis	Arch and flag	Arch and flag

St. Louis to Baton Rouge - August 11 to August 31, 2002

Roger piloting the Zadok Cramer	Homeless man in Cape Girardeau	One motor down	Sunset near Cairo, IL	The sinking of the Zadok Cramer	Roger inspects the boat	"What are we going to do?"	Fitzgerald to the rescue
The raising of the Zadok Cramer	The raising of the Zadok Cramer	Riley Fitzgerald	Roger and Riley	Memphis	Memphis	Martin's arrival in Memphis	Towboat
Horseshoe Casino Tunica, Mississippi	Borut working	Cattle behind the levee	Waiting for Martin	Loading dock	Three kayaks	The work of beavers	Sandi working
Natchez, Mississippi	Natchez bridge	Natchez bridge

Baton Rouge to New Orleans - August 31 to September 3, 2002

Faye	Faye	Oil rig in northern Louisiana	Louisiana sunset	Louisiana sunset	Sugar cane	The bayou	A stretch of the river
Back to work after lunch	Baton Rouge boat ramp	Deserted wharf in Baton Rouge	The band arrives from Slovenia	Deceased alligator	"Do you dare touch it?"	Industrial facility near New Orleans	The crew just outside of New Orleans

New Orleans to the Gulf of Mexico - September 4 - September 9, 2002

Guy Plaisance?	The crew	Tomas Menih and Borut & Blanca Farcnik celebrate in the French Quarter	Martin dances with Mateja	The Band	Byron and Wendi at Antoine's in the French Quarter	Marvin, Theresa and other guests	Sarah and David say their vows
The Wedding	Signing the papers	Lily dances with William Perry	Faye and Roger	Martin and Borut with the Haglund-Moya family	Jackie, Pavle and Lily in the French Quarter	Pavle shows off his beads	Borut, Guy and Martin
Sarah, Larry, Faye and Mark en route to Mile Zero	En route to Mile Zero	En route to Mile Zero	Mile Zero	Mile Zero	Mile Zero	Martin's arrival at Mile Zero	Martin's arrival at Mile Zero
The rest of the team joins Martin in the water	The rest of the team joins Martin in the water	The whole team at mile zero	A Port Authority ship salutes us on the return trip

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