Have you ever been told, “that’s impossible?”
Wilderness adventurers know the response well…”You’re doing what? That’s impossible.” Still, we make first ascents of mountains; first descents of rivers; we travel afoot or in the saddle on epic long-distance journeys. We go where no man or woman has gone before. For those of us bent towards adventure, doing the “impossible” is the difference between living a comfortable life of existence and a rich life of experience.
For most of the 400-plus people that participated in Paddle Georgia 2025, there was nothing “impossible” about our 82-mile journey. The seven-day float was very doable. With a modicum of courage and strength, your average adult could “navigate the whirl and the suck” on the Tennessee River with little trouble (that’s not to say there were no sore muscles at journey’s end).
But surely there were some participants whose friends and neighbors, upon hearing of their intentions to paddle seven days through three states, likely shook their heads in disbelief—or concern—and muttered under their breath, “that’s impossible.”
Among the finishers in the sweltering heat of Stevenson City Park Sunday were Connie Hollis, our oldest participant, approaching her 80th year and still stroking. There was Marcelle Harris, past 70-years-old and battling Parkinson’s disease. I can only hope to have the courage, strength and determination of these women two decades into my future.
There were Ukrainian refugees, Denys Skrypnyk and Emilia Fedun, participating in Tixie Fowler’s River Strong youth program. Who’d have thought that their flight from war would bring them to this place and this epic journey?
Undoubtedly, there were among us countless other individual stories of folks accomplishing something they—or someone they know—never thought possible.
To be honest, as the trip organizer, I harbored some doubts myself. How would we safely get nearly 300 people around the lowhead dam at Graysville? And what about that massive, strainer-choked sewer line on South Chickamauga Creek?
Some locals in the know, I’m certain, shook their heads and muttered “impossible” at word of this crazy endeavor. But many of those same locals pitched in.
Tennessee Valley Canoe Club members like Eric Fleming, B.G. Smith, Jim Ledbetter, David Snyder and others responded: “possible.” They mustered their fellow members to create truly remarkable solutions to these obstacles. Every boat and person made it safely over Graysville Dam via a footpath cut by Fleming and an innovative bamboo chute engineered by Snyder.
At the sewer line, the City of Chattanooga connected us with Tommy Ireland, a structural engineer, who suggested using scaffolding to span the sewer. Meanwhile, Fleming and Smith designed a boat chute and sewer cage decking that made operating atop the six-foot-high sewer line safe and efficient. They not only helped build (and dismantle the structure), they pulled and pushed boats for hours during the 300-person-portage. The number of man-hours put in by TVCC volunteers is easily in the triple digits. They don’t call it the “Volunteer State” for nothing!
Then, as always, our own Paddle Georgia participants chipped in, helping fellow paddlers lift their boats up and over the sewer line. Finally, a sponsor, Kayaarm, donated the simple aluminum arm for our floating dock that helped get every last paddler safely back in their vessel.
There’s not much that is truly impossible if you have a little help from some friends.
Mid-week we saw the manifestation of that truth when we learned that the proposed Okefenokee Swamp titanium dioxide mine had been stopped in its tracks, thanks to a $60 million land purchase.
The prospects of “saving the swamp” seemed dim just recently, but the swamp has lots of friends.
You wrote and called the governor and your legislators; you told Georgia’s Environmental Protection Division not to issue permits for the mine (200,000 of you!). You supported with your money and time organizations like Georgia Rivers that provided frontline soldiers like Rena Ann Peck that fought daily in the “mine pits.” Your individual actions created a mighty movement that could not be ignored. Wealthy philanthropists bankrolled the purchase, but your collective voices ultimately won the day…just as our collective brain and muscle overcame the seemingly impossible obstacle of a poop pipe during Paddle Georgia 2025.
Pat yourself on the back. You not only completed an epic journey; you saved a swamp!
Next up? Saving your “freedom to float.”
Our week-long journey took advantage of two established water trails–Tennessee RiverLine, a 650-mile recreational boating trail spanning the length of the big, commercially-navigable waterway–and the South Chickamauga Creek Water Trail, a small-boat-only recreation destination that’s continued use by the public is not guaranteed because of Georgia’s vague and ambiguous policies regarding which streams canoeists and kayakers have the right to float. Currently, it would take only a single property owner intent on making South Chickamauga Creek a “private stream” to close the water trail to the public and effectively shut down a local outfitter and an important outdoor recreation tourism amenity for Ringgold and Catoosa County.
Georgia Rivers is actively working to make certain that never happens on South Chickamauga Creek or any of the state’s other small stream boating destinations. Learn more at our Freedom to Float website.
Now a few photo favorites from the week…
Paddle Georgia, A Project of Georgia River Network - Weblog 