Lime Springs to Highway 30:
A long and mostly slow-going trip with intermittent riffles and simple Class I rapids, this upper stretch of the Upper Iowa River doesn’t glitter with outrageous rock outcrops or bubbling natural springs as its more popular trips downstream, but it does have some as it meanders past a surprising amount of undeveloped surroundings. Plus it offers the rare premium of solitude, otherwise unheard of on this river.
Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆
Trip Report Date: May 6, 2025
Skill Level: Beginner
Class Difficulty: Quietwater with occasional riffles and Class I rapids
Gradient:
≈ 4.5′ per mile
Gauge Recorded on this Trip:
Lime Springs: ht/ft: 5.5 | cfs: n/a
Recommended Levels:
We recommend this level. But this trip should be able to be comfortably paddled at 5′ and with occasional scraping in the shallows as low as 4.5′.
Put-In:
Lidtke Park, Lime Springs, Iowa
GPS: 43.46474, -92.27818
Take-Out:
Highway 30, Harmony, Minnesota
GPS: 43.50997, -92.10673
Time: Put in at 11:45a. Out at 4:15p.
Total Time: 4h 30m
Miles Paddled: 15.75
Wildlife:
Otters, an owl, bald eagles, tons of turtles, wood ducks, geese, turkey vultures, songbirds, and deer.
Shuttle Information:
14.75 miles by vehicle taking the less direct but all-paved highway or 12 miles by bicycle taking the more direct but crushed gravel country roads.
Background:
I’m pretty confident in saying that I’ve never gone out of my way to paddle a river I live nowhere near as much as the Upper Iowa. Considering that it’s a minimum of three hours’ driving from Madison and 150 miles long total, this was I believe the fifth time in 11 years that I ventured up and my ninth trip paddling the Upper Iowa. (The third sojourn, in October 2023, was a full-forked junket that catered to four separate day trips.) There must be something in the water…
The fourth time up was last year, and we paddled two sections – one, revisiting the unbelievably becoming Kendallville to Bluffton segment, the other a debut paddle (for us) from Florenceville to Kendalville. After paddling the latter trip, I honestly that I was done with the exploratory committees, having checked all the boxes (or at least the most relevant ones). But chatting with some folks at an Iowa tourism booth during Canoecopia this year, who asked us if we’d ever paddled from Lime Springs to Florenceville, inspired us to put one more trip on the to-do list. And so I returned – alas, without Scotty, my willing accomplice in all things Upper Iowa River (and plenty other paddling gambits). I had the time and was apprehensive about coinciding schedules later in the year while worrying about water levels or paddling a long segment of the river I knew next to nothing about. So, alone I went, like a canoe in a coalmine.
In the indispensable Paddling Iowa, author Nate Hoogeveen lays out seven* total trips along the Upper Iowa River, mostly consecutive, beginning in Minnesota (just north of the state line) and wrapping up a dozen miles from its confluence at the Mississippi River. He does offer an addendum that alludes to the Lime Springs to Florenceville segment, but not in much detail..
* Note: in the updated edition, Hoogeveen includes this segment, so now there are eight total trips. And likely a lot of detail now about this trip. But I’m frugal and can’t justify buying an updated edition of a guidebook I already own to a state I don’t even live in.
Overview:
The landing below the Lidtke dam is picturesque: quaint old brick mill building opposite the bank, crystal-clear sand-gravel river before you shimmering with riffles. But the current will disappear soon after – and remain that way for a spell. Indeed, the river here is wide (about 100’), slow, and surprisingly deep. Being this far upstream, I was surprised by the depth and volume. I’m plenty familiar with how low the river can be, even midstream outside of Decorah.
By and by, rivers flow downward, of course – its source will always be higher than its mouth. Such is how sediment is distributed; streams aren’t called “tributaries” for nothing. But while it’s tempting to see a river like a right angle lying on its side, the fluid motion all smoothly going downstream from point to point, such spaces exist only in the dreamy ether of Euclidean geometry. Meanwhile on Earth, a plane full of inconsistencies and exceptions, warts, ingrown hairs, and pimples, the reality is much more nuanced. The classic pool-riffle-pool pattern found on so many rivers happens because gradient isn’t necessarily steady. In a five-mile stretch alone it might fluctuate from 2 fpm to 7 fpm back to 3 fpm. Fault lines are more dramatic examples of this. I’ll stop mansplaining. But this variable gradient is likely why this stretch of the river can have so much water in sections. That and it was early spring.
Fragmented parcels of woods lie on each side of the river almost like a checkerboard. Where those spaces are open, farms and fields lie behind them. This will play out for the first couple miles. After several long straightaways the river will bend around some steep-bluffed woods with modestly exposed rock outcrops, rated PG-13. Riffles will reappear as well. The honest-to-goodness wooden bridge at Quail Ave comes in about 3 miles down from the dam. In theory, you could access the river here on the downstream side of the bridge, river-right – there’s a distinct downtrodden path where others have done so in the past – but I saw a Private Property sign as well. Definitely worth checking out since it would shorten this trip and have you start right at its prettiest stretch, but don’t just assume this is public access.
Riffles and light rapids await downstream, in league with slipping into the Souhrada Forest Wildlife Area (love that name – Souhrada!), where the river will playfully meander past wooded bluffs, rock outcrops, bluebells (at least in spring), and boulders for the next two miles. Sandbars and gravel-bars enhance the scenery as well. Now it feels like the Upper Iowa River! After wavering a little to the north, a quarter-mile-long straightaway heads directly to a truly spectacular bluff about 75′ high, its limestone bedrock fully “naked” and sunbathing facing south. At its base, a little stream slips into the Upper Iowa from the left. It’s a very intimate vignette.
A gangly loop leads to a right-side ridge that is wooded and steep and upon closing the approach reveals exposed limestone like a bare shoulder. Bending left now, the river skates over shallow riffles followed by an attractive line of conifers standing in attention, their barked backs straight and skyward. A swift meander around eroded banks above which is a field tilled too far to the edge precedes a series of northbound broad bends. Paddlers will be rewarded with wonderful views of another fluffy bluff, more exposed outcrops, and pleasant riffles. Suddenly, seamlessly, you’re in Minnesota…for a moment. There are more riffles and an even more impressive bluff with fully exposed limestone, now NC-17, easily 100′ high – arguably the highlight of this trip.
But what goes up comes down, and the river here is no exception. Cattle pastures and row crops replace conifers and outcrops for the next mile. Fortunately, lots of little islands and sandbars divvy the river and distract from the peripheries. That said, do watch out for wires here, as there are a couple strands. Another, smaller ridge that also displays fully revealed limestone outcrops comes into view river-right, after which you’re back in Minnesota once more. A 180-degree loop through the Gopher State passes fields, a house and some farm buildings, but also some splashy Class I rapids. Once again, watch out for wires.
You’ll know that you’re back in Iowa once you pass under what looks like a railroad bridge but isn’t (at least not for trains). A gentle left-hand bend later and you’ll see the established landing in Florenceville on the left – upstream of the Highway V58 bridge. The next and last two miles are a bit anticlimactic. The river flows past a few buildings, some hardscrabble gravelly islands, some riffles, and one more attractive rock outcrop. Finally, a one-mile-long straightaway arcing northeast, presumably channelized, with nearly no current leads to the nondescript and easy to miss access off of Highway 30 (which seems like a misnomer, at least in this location, as it is an unpaved country lane with a couple Amish farms). The best I can say about this spot is it allows for the novelty of starting this trip in one state and finishing in another. For here, you’re back in Minnesota, albeit half a mile north of the state line.
What we liked:
There are several signature moments on this long and often sluggish trip that are truly beautiful – mainly the wooded bluffs, riffles, and exposed outcrops. But those are what stand out. What’s more subliminal is how much public land flanks the river, until you recall that you’re in Iowa, which ranks fourth to last in public lands in the United States. (Really though, it should be third to last, since Rhode Island – which is 50th – skews the metrics. No shade on the Ocean State, where I once lived way back in 1998.)
This is absolutely subjective, but I did see three playful, curious otters on this trip. And an owl swoop between trees. Short of a fox, it doesn’t get much better than that for me.
If we catered to half-stars, this trip would merit one. Other paddlers might give it four stars. I’ve gone back and forth on it. This trip starts with excellent potential, but then peters out pretty quickly before it actually gets impressive. Similarly, after hitting its highest notes, it pans out in a bland denouement. Mind you, all of this has to do with logistics and accesses (or lack thereof). If there were more places to begin or end this segment of the river – to edit the flubs, so to speak – then absolutely this would be a four-star trip. The good stuff is terrific, but it does bear the burden of being adulterated by the dull stuff. Does the latter change the intrinsic value of the former? That’s a question for philosophers, not this river scrivener.
What we didn’t like:
Unlike every segment of the Upper Iowa River from Florenceville to the Mississippi River, where there are alternate accesses in spades, this trip runs a deficit of such options, which means a long day on the water. I personally don’t mind that per se, as I often paddle alone and don’t have to worry about distances or time on the river. (Alas, the flipside of this is long-distance bike shuttling…) But I readily recognize that many paddlers begin feeling fidgety and restless after a dozen miles.
Nearly any river trip pushing the envelope of 16 miles will have spots of monotony, no matter how scenic or thrilling it is (at least in this part of the country). Along with a lack of accesses, this section of the Upper Iowa is not as endowed with exposed rock outcrops or sparkling natural springs as the better known/paddled trips downstream. That’s likely the main reason why this trip is more obscure. Moreover, it’s wide and mostly sluggish.
There are a couple sets of wires on this trip. I paddled this in early May, so I can’t vouch whether there’d be more wires strung up later in the year. Conversely, the wires could be removed either by will or high water… The presence of wires is unpredictable. None posed any difficulties – no need even for my trusty Y-er. But paddlers should expect to encounter some.
Not even 60 seconds upon arriving at the hole-in-the-wall wayside at Highway 30, a Minnesota DNR truck pulled up next to me like a speed trap cop in Rosendale. Allow me to convey the inexplicable absurdity of this. The wayside here – and it’s just that: a dirt turnaround with no park or picnic table or even a sign – is 90′ long from end to end, on a gravel road with a couple Amish farms down from Granger, MN, and Florenceville, IA, both unincorporated towns and probably comprising a combined population of 200 people at most. And here I was at 11 am on a Tuesday in early May to leave my bicycle for shuttling after paddling. I rolled down my window to chat with the ranger and politely explained that I live in Wisconsin, where, no sir, canoes and kayaks do not need to be registered, sir. Thank you, sir, you have a good day, too. In case you’re wondering, the wayside is technically in Minnesota – a whole 0.75-mile downriver from Florenceville on the Iowa side. (Similarly, the river toes over the stateline twice en route to Florenceville.) Don’t get me wrong – the ranger was Minnesota nice, albeit befuddled why someone from Wisconsin in his 40s (re: not retired) would be dropping off a bicycle here of all places on a Tuesday morning in May of all times, alone and with a red canoe atop his Subaru. Totally fair. As a white, straight man in the Midwest, I’m much too privileged to feel profiled. But is it any wonder why we don’t see many people of color paddling? Maybe it was just a fluke, but what are the odds that a car with Wisconsin plates that crosses into Minnesota half a mile from Iowa would be questioned about why my canoe doesn’t have a registration sticker?
If we did this trip again:
As long as water levels allowed, I’d revisit this segment in autumn to coincide with peak foliage. I’ve long felt that the Driftless Area is best in spring, but autumn is an awfully close runner-up. Combining this segment of the Upper Iowa River with some cider and a cozy flannel shirt on a crisp but sunny day would be brilliant in a bittersweet way.
But leaving cinematic sentimentalism aside, the main thing I’d do differently is ending this trip in Florenceville (GPS: 43.49575, -92.13496) instead of the Highway 30 wayside access due east. It would shave off two miles that are nondescript anyway and shorten the shuttle a smidge. Plus the access is much better in Florenceville. And you won’t invoke the raised brow of the Minnesota DNR asking you about boat registration. Furthermore, I’d at least see about launching from Quail Ave or even seek permission, as doing so would cut three unmemorable miles, all making for a more reasonable 10-mile trip.
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Related Information:
Upper Iowa River II: Highway 30 to Kendallville
Upper Iowa River III: Kendallville to Bluffton
Upper Iowa River IV: Chimney Rock Road to Malanaphy Springs
Upper Iowa River V: Malanaphy Springs to Trout Run Park
Upper Iowa River VI: Trout Run Park to Lower Dam
Upper Iowa River VII: Lower Dam to Iverson Bridge Road
Upper Iowa River VIII: Iverson Bridge Road to Kumpf Access
General: Decorah Tourism
General: Iowa Natural Heritage Foundation
General: Upper Iowa River Watershed Project
Guide: Upper Iowa River
Outfitter: Harvest Farm Campground
Wikipedia: Upper Iowa River
Photo Gallery:
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