Locks and Cheese Crackers: Learning Through Adventure

By, Kevin Parentin, Middle School Teacher & Adventure Education Coordinator

Experiential education is at its best when teachers can successfully link the abstractions of academic lessons to concrete, authentic experiences. This is the ongoing mission for every teacher at The College School. Teachers can and most certainly do make these connections happen within the classroom. However, I believe the most impactful experiential learning happens in the outdoors and includes adventure. As a teacher at TCS, I have the opportunity to share lessons on watersheds at the tops of mountains and in whitewater rivers. My students spelunk into deep and muddy caverns to explore Karst topography. I share lessons in cartography at the bottom of box canyons and atop Ozark Hills. We even paddle swift Ozark streams in search of the elusive and invasive species of the Missouri River Shark.

It has been my supreme privilege to teach in these beautiful and challenging spaces — I feel like I’ve taught just about everywhere. One local experience, however, had eluded me. Out on the big waters of the Mississippi, just south of Alton, Illinois, lies the Melvin Price Locks and Dam. It is a massive structure of concrete and steel through which barges, commercial vessels, and every other manner of watercraft must pass to navigate the river. This occasionally includes canoes and kayaks. I had heard stories of people paddling small boats through the locks, but I had never expe- rienced this myself. Paddling through a lock and dam sat high on my adventure list.

The colossal structure towers above a constant swarm of boats and barge traffic that I had only watched from a great and safe distance. It called to me.

This past summer I made contact with the US Army Corps of Engineers (Corps) and the Audubon Society to arrange a kayaking trip in and around the Riverlands Migratory Bird Sanctuary. While we were familiar with the area, we were looking for something new – something that offered the opportunity for important data gathering as well as that important element of adventure.

Paddling the big waters of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers is trendy right now. Of course, TCS classes have ventured out into the main channels with Big Muddy Mike in his famously large voyageur canoes. We have self-guided our boats in and around Riverlands to conduct scientific studies. We had never, however, approached the Melvin Price Locks and Dam near Alton.

Students at TCS take Field Ecology in the fall of Eighth Grade. In the course, each student is assigned a specific scientific job (Botanist, Chemist, Zoologist, Meteorologist, Qualitative Researcher, or Documentarian). Students learn their jobs in the field, called site studies. They put their learning into practice during a nine-day trip to the southeastern United States, conducting research following the path of watersheds from the peaks of the Appalachian mountains through stream and lake environments, down to the estuary and coastal environments of the Atlantic seaboard. We prepare for our big trip by practicing scientific data gathering at various spots around St. Louis. We choose these based on several important factors, one of which is the element of adventure.]

New and grand experiences often mean partnering with governmental organizations, non-profits, and local guides that can get us up to speed. In this case, it was all three. The Corps / Audubon Society has a program in the Riverlands area in which they lead kayaking trips for science and education. When I called the Corps’ office to discuss a site study trip, the education manager Emily Connor asked me what we wanted to do. There was all manner of trips they were prepared to lead — including investigating the sloughs and backwaters, paddling the main channel, stopping on islands, and bird watching. I replied that we would like to paddle through the nearby lock and dam. It was a long-shot request, as I knew this was not something they normally do. After a prolonged pause, she explained that this was both outside their normal repertoire and probably not an activity appropriate for Middle School students. I winced and probably gave an overly exaggerated response of disappointment.

Continued on next page sunny skies. The weather seemed madeto-order and the students were in high spirits. We unloaded from our bus and found ourselves immediately in a flurry of activity. Large vans and their adjoined kayak trailers were being unloaded by paddlers festooned with PFDs, radios, throw bags, sun hats, and paddles, with kayaks heaved over their shoulders. At the water’s edge lay a flotilla of sea kayaks meant for the students, positioned and ready for launch. A grand operation with vast logistics was unfolding before us.

I may have even blubbered a bit. She courteously offered to ask around to see if this adventure might be possible. She wasn’t optimistic and she made no promises.

Soon after and to my utter surprise and delight, I received a message that the trip would very well be possible. What changed? When the Corps consulted one of the members of the leadership team for the Mississippi River Water Trail Association (MRWT), it just so happened to be Melissa Sauter. She recently helped lead a winter expedition with the entirety of our Middle School. She accompanied us while navigating cold Ozark rivers and rappelling into the mouth of an Ozark cave. She assured the Corps that yes, TCS Middle School students could handle it.

It wasn’t going to be a walk in the park — this trip would carry real risk, and only a handful of people knew how to do it well. An adventure like this one was going to require experienced leadership, loads of gear, and safety protocols that would ensure our travel would not be a misadventure. Both the Corps and MRWT joined together to plan. Word went out among the local paddling community that TCS middle schoolers were keen on a new adventure and a dream team of local paddling organizations began to assemble. On the tail end of a flurry of emails, our faculty learned that our adventure to the locks and dam would be a matter of the combined effort between The Audubon Center at Riverlands, The US Army Corps of Engineers Rivers Project Office, Mississippi River Water Trail, and Alpine Shop.

TCS middle schoolers know rivers and how to navigate them. We know canoes, kayaks, and rafts. We know water safety. We spend a lot of time learning the various safety systems and practices required for river travel like swift water rescue and T-Rescue. Our work has earned us a reputation and that reputation earned us an opportunity for an uncommon experience. Our partnering organizations and their leaders put in tremendous work–that was no doubt wrought with tedious details–to create a pilot program to beta-test students kayaking through the locks. The mission was a go.

Immediately we were greeted by enthusiastic members of the various organizations who were making this day happen. A project such as this one was not common for them, and I do not believe they had ever collaborated in such a fashion. However, the coordination and communication among them and with us were seamless. We were witnessing the work of passionate experts in outdoor education, and as with any outdoor education activity, we began our day standing in a large circle.

Greetings and hellos, get-to-know-you questions, and other pleasantries common to days like this seemed to do little to assuage looks of trepidation on the faces of some of the students and faculty. The fact was, aside from our guides, we had no idea what to expect. This is not a common perspective for TCS middle were all a little impatient, looking for ward to the inevitable safety talk.

The team of guides began to discuss the various elements of safety protocols. They had our rapt attention. They discussed potentialities like a swamped boat, hazards like river debris, communication like signaling for help, and the likelihood of being struck by jumping carp. TCS students and faculty even listened quietly and intently during the discussion of rudimentary paddle strokes. Things were serious.

It is OK to be a little afraid or nervous going into an adventure like this one. It is a good thing to carry a little fear. My students will tell you that I will not paddle in a whitewater raft with anyone who doesn’t admit to being a little nervous before getting on the water. Why? Because a person who isn’t a little nervous doesn’t see the risks involved and may well act recklessly. If someone is a little afraid or nervous, that means they are paying attention. This is Good Fear. However, there is also such a thing as Bad Fear. This happens when people are unprepared for a situation and feel overwhelmed. Bad Fear can make a person freeze up or incapable of acting or moving forward. We minimized that Bad Fear by learning, preparing, and practicing.

Continued on next page light chop of the open water of the river. Our flotilla was in good order with plenty of space between boats, all pointed in the right direction, paddling in synchronicity and making good time. Small whitecaps broke against the bows of our boats. The jumping carp leaped well away from us. The wind was at our backs. We were all in a moment of flow.

One of the guides expressed relief at our efficiency. We should make the locks and dam in little time, she explained. This was important. Our team of guides arranged to halt all boat traffic from using the locks and dam until we made it safely through. The guide explained that there were boats lined up on the far side waiting for us. We would have the place to ourselves. I was astounded. I inquired whether this might have upset the barge crews. She said she didn’t think so. The fishing boats on the other hand… over the railing up above. They called to us with warm hellos and waved us through to the spot where we would rest. They seemed to be enjoying the adventure as much as we were, and they took many photos.

Making our way downstream the horizon was increasingly dominated by the mass of steel and concrete that was our destination. It appeared like a castle, designed in the brutalist style with stark walls jutting into the sky, topped by a lookout tower and a crane on an elevated track. Uniformed officials in ranger hats stood at railings high above the water, watching our approach.

A small chain hung from the upper reaches of the lock walls. I’d heard about this but could hardly believe it was real. Pulling it signals to staff in the towers above that a small watercraft wishes to pass through. The enormity of the structure juxtaposed with the diminutiveness of this chain reminded me of the entrance to the city of OZ. My only disappointment for the day is that we did not use it. We did not need to – our guides had been in radio contact with the lock and dam staff for the entirety of our trip.

At rest in the lock chamber, It was time to celebrate. We have many silly traditions that live within the history of Field Ecology. One of which is the ubiquity of our favorite snack. It travels easily, is eminently shareable, and is thematically appropriate for the spaces that we visit. A few of the eighth graders reached into the storage compartments of their kayaks to produce large containers of Goldfish Crackers. Flavor Blasted, of course.

As it turned out, we weren’t the only boats passing through. A houseboat ambled into the lock with us. Standing at the railing of their boat, a couple called to us in awestruck curiosity. Why were we here? What sort of school is this? How lucky you all are! Their brief discussion with the students served to illustrate how uncommon this experience is for a middle school, and how uncommon our school is in general.

A horn within the lock chamber blew loudly, safety lights swirled, and the heavy machinery of the lock thumped and thudded. The upstream gate of the lock, the size of a large building, slowly arose from beneath the water. The vision was other-worldly. Moments later the downstream lock cracked open and the river began to lower. We braced our kayaks into a large raft to steady against undulating water. We lowered 17’ in just a few minutes. The upstream gate held back an unimaginable wall of river water.

When the downstream lock opened wide, we paddled on in high spirits, though we paddled extra quickly. We were met by a mass of idling boats and barges that were anchored in wait for our passage. We could not see, though we all could sense the many eyes of captains and crew watching us exit the nearly empty lock chamber.

Our new adventure was a success, and I hope that we try it again next year. By the time students reach Eighth Grade at TCS, it becomes difficult to push them outside of their comfort zones. This is by design. We never stop looking for ways to challenge our students with life-changing adventures that ask them to lead, be brave, be a team, and be safe. I fear only that this work might make high school seem a little boring.

This experience was made possible through collaboration with The Audubon Center at Riverlands, The US Army Corps of Engineers Rivers Project Office, Mississippi River Water Trail, and Alpine Shop generally with Perry Whitaker specifically. Through generosity, expertise, equipment, and adventurous spirits, TCS students enjoyed this grand adventure. A special thank you to the supportive leadership of Melissa Sauter and Emily Connor who ensured this project could happen. We can’t wait to paddle with you all again soon.