Obstacles Overcome: Doing “It” Anyway When Others Say, “You Can’t” or “You Shouldn’t”

This is a story about doing “it” anyway when others tell you: “You can’t!” “You shouldn’t!” “You’d be a fool!” or “You don’t belong!”

As a young adult, when I set out to hike all 2,000-plus miles of the Appalachian Trail, I was told that I would never finish it. I did.

When as beginning paddlers, my wife and I planned a 540-mile canoe trip down the Chattahoochee and Apalachicola rivers, experienced canoeists thought us foolhardy and asked with concern, “are you sure you know what you’re doing?” In fact, we had no clue, but we did it anyway.

When in 2005, Dana Skelton, April Ingle and I determined we’d organize a week-long, group canoe/kayak journey down the Chattahoochee River under the banner of Georgia River Network, similar questions surfaced: “You’re doing what? With 300 people!?” We did it anyway. What was launched in a fit of ignorance and confidence has become the country’s largest week-long paddling sojourn.

Paddlers stroke down the St. Marys River during a recent Georgia Rivers Paddle Georgia adventure.

Over the past 20 years, we’ve paddled some 2,000 miles with some 7,000 people and raised more than $1 million for river protection. 

On the brink of my sixth decade on this Earth, I take this lesson from life thus far. When society tells you, “No;” calls you “foolish;” or says, “you don’t belong;” do it anyway. It’s likely to prove worthwhile, perhaps even life changing.

I was reminded of this recently during Georgia Rivers Okefenokee-Suwannee River Adventure when I met Ann (she asked that I not use her last name) and her friend Elizabeth. As we ventured down river, I noticed the two paddling stern-to-bow with Ann tailing close behind in her solo kayak, following Elizabeth’s every stroke with occasional instruction from Elizabeth: “left,” “right.” Though odd and unconventional, it seemed to work. I inquired.

Ann, as it turned out, is visually impaired (words she prefers to ”legally blind”) and on this trip, she was fulfilling a dream that she’d held for 25 years. To go paddling. With Elizabeth’s guidance, she navigated 22 miles of the Okefenokee Swamp and the Suwannee River’s narrow and winding path. I was impressed and inspired.

Recently retired from a career as a physical trainer, she was looking for new challenges and adventures. She shrugged off my admiration. When people tell her she’s courageous, she said, she dismisses it. She’s simply doing what she needs to do. “It’s just another obstacle,” she said.

Visually impaired, Ann participated in Georgia Rivers recent Okefenokee-Suwannee River adventure, navigating 22 miles of a twisting path through the swamp and down the river with the assistance of her friend Elizabeth, fulfilling a dream of paddling she’s held for more than two decades.

This set me to thinking about other paddlers and the obstacles they’ve brushed off to “do it anyway.”

My friend, Alan Crawford, a scuba diver who once cleaned and repaired boats for a living, lost use of his legs to a rare neurological condition. His love of water brought him to kayaking and to Paddle Georgia. As his health permits, he’s logged hundreds of miles in his boat. Unbroken.

After he lost full use of his legs to a rare neurological disorder, Alan Crawford took to paddling and as his health permits, he’s logged hundreds of miles on Georgia’s rivers

Long-time Paddle Georgia participant Marcelle Harris, diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease several years ago, was still stroking this summer, despite that disease’s relentless and brutal progression. Persistent. 

Long-time Paddle Georgia participant Marcelle Harris did not let Parkinson’s disease prevent her from paddling all seven days and 80-plus-miles of Paddle Georgia 2025.

Then there’s the Barkes family—Philip and Liliana and their seven children. When they first inquired about joining us on our trips, I was dubious. Their youngest was under two, the oldest 14. As a young paddling parent, I could barely manage one daughter. Seven? In fact,  the Barkes DID know what they were doing. Those kids controlled their canoe better than most adults! Seven children? Obstacle? Overcome.

The Barkes family at Nickajack Lock and Dam during Paddle Georgia 2025. Two parents; seven children? No problem!

Across twenty years of leading paddle trips, I’ve come to understand there’s obstacles that culture throws up as well. This has been especially evident during the past year as Georgia Rivers has worked to get underserved youth, women, people of color, people with physical challenges, recent immigrants and lower income families on our trips.

Lets be honest, the paddlesports world is one dominated largely by white, upper-middle class men of a certain age. For those that look different, entering this world can be intimidating.

Thankfully, our rivers don’t discriminate. They welcome all. Over the past year, I’ve paddled with a lot of folks who look, talk and act different than me…folks our culture might say don’t fit on wild rivers: refugees from Afghanistan and Ukraine; a Black mom and her four children; a non-binary mom and her daughter…to name just a few. 

Like Ann, the visually-impaired swamp paddler, each, in their own way, were overcoming obstacles. As one first-time paddler told me, “It was challenging, but in a good way.”

Paddlers with Refugee Womens Network gather before launching on the Oconee River in September. The Summit Foundation, established by the family of Margie Cohen (a long-time Paddle Georgia participant), has supported a scholarship program aimed at getting women, people of color, recent immigrants and lower income individuals and families on Georgia Rivers adventures.

We need more folks on our rivers overcoming obstacles and staring down challenges. If the folks enjoying our rivers grow as diverse as the host of  critters that live in them (Georgia ranks 3^rd among states in aquatic biodiversity), Georgia’s water will have a powerful voice. 

Old white guys alone cannot save a river, a stream or a swamp. It takes everyone. And, everyone needs to experience our rivers.

Joining a Georgia Rivers stewardship paddle trip or training class is a great way to challenge yourself. We welcome beginners and avid paddlers alike! See our full list of day trips, weekend adventures, and kayak training classes at garivers.org/events.  (or button). If  you’d like to donate to support our scholarship program aimed at diversifying the paddlesports and river advocacy communities, CLICK HERE!

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Poop Pipe Portages and Swamp Saving: Making the “impossible” possible…with a little help from some friends.

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.

Terry Stewart celebrates her arrival in downtown Chattanooga on Day 3 of the seven-day, 82-mile, 3-state Paddle Georgia 2025 journey.

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 80^th 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.

The Mohr family beats the heat by exiting their boats during a 90-degree journey from Bridgeport, Alabama to Stevenson City Park.

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.

Marcelle Harris steps down to the floating dock, the final stage of the South Chickamauga Creek sewer line portage. Scaffolding on the upstream side of the sewer line brought participants to the top of the 6-foot-high sewer line; scaffolding downstream brought them back down to the water, and their boats, which were transferred over the sewer line using wooden chutes. Members of the Tennessee Valley Canoe Club helped build the structure, man it during the portage and disassemble it following the event.

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.

As mighty rivers are formed by tiny tributaries, likewise, mighty movements begin with the actions of individuals.

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…

The Tennessee River Gorge did not disappoint. It’s soaring ridges provided a scenic backdrop to 13 miles of paddling.

A fog-shrouded Sand Mountain sent us down river from Bridgeport to our final destination at Stevenson City Park on the final day of our journey.

The journey through Nickajack Lock and Dam highlighted Day 6 of the trip. More than 100 boats fit in the lock with plenty of room to spare!

Astrid Arnesen practices her gymnastic moves between rows of boats at Tennessee River Place.

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