“I’m covered in poison ivy. I need to get off the river,” the distressed long-distance paddler told Katie Heaton over the phone, spurring her and her husband Craig into action.

They met him at a boat ramp on the Mississippi, took him to urgent care, then put him up at their house to recover while his companions paddled on. Just another day for a River Angel.

The informal network of folks known as River Angels assists long-distance paddlers on the Mississippi and Missouri rivers.

It’s a tradition with deep roots. When Albert Tousley paddled the Mississippi in 1925, he sometimes knocked on doors when he needed supplies or a dry place to sleep — and he rarely got turned down.

Paddlers today don’t need to take a chance on a random door knock. They can connect with River Angels through Facebook groups or simply by happenstance as they travel downriver. Many River Angels live on riverfront property and have posted signs welcoming paddlers.

“We started to see posts from people doing the entire river,” Craig Heaton recalls. “We saw people reaching out and helping them. We lived so close to the river and paddled it ourselves, so we thought we could help.”

River Angels might help paddlers resupply, assist with portaging, provide a place to sleep or shower, or even help fix a boat. “Everybody’s got a different capacity of what they can do,” says Judy Feltman, who assists paddlers approaching Washington, Missouri, on the Missouri River.

“I feel like my strengths are more in connecting people and being behind the scenes. No two situations are ever alike.”

After St. Louisan Bill Behrns paddled the length of the Missouri River, he became more active in helping other long-distance paddlers. “I’m just trying to help them achieve their goals,” he says. That has included meeting paddlers at the Gateway Arch at the end of their journey.

“I hate the idea of somebody completing such an epic adventure and pulling into the Arch without anybody there to greet them.”

 

River Angel Bill Behrns. (Courtesy of Bill Behrns)

“We didn’t start doing it because we wanted anything out of it,” Katie Heaton says. “But when you find them and give them whatever assistance they need, you get your hugs, you get those river stories — that little moment of time where you get to share their journey.”

“You know you played a small role in making it possible,” Craig adds.

“It’s made a big difference in my life,” Feltman says. “This community has naturally led to friendships around the country and the world with high-caliber people of all ages and walks of life. But you’re not doing it for recognition. You’re doing it because it’s the right thing to do.”

Behrns was inspired by the strangers who helped him along the Missouri.

“I was amazed at the people who came up and helped me. It really restored my faith in humanity.”

Becoming a River Angel was his way of giving back.

The Heatons ended up housing the poison ivy-stricken paddler for three days — and when his companions reached Alton, the Heatons picked them up, brought everyone home, and fired up the grill. “And we had a big feast together,” Craig says.

As Perry Whitaker, another dedicated River Angel, puts it: John Fogerty had it right in “Proud Mary” — people on the river are happy to give. “Absolutely,” says Whitaker. “It’s real.”

Author: Dean Klinkenberg is a contributor to Terrain.

Top image: Katie Heaton with long-distance paddler Dale “Greybeard” Sanders. (Craig Heaton)