Iverson Bridge Road to Kumpf Access:
A wonderful finale to the mighty Upper Iowa, this section of the river begins and ends with excellent accesses and sublime bluffs unlike any other. In the nine miles between, paddlers will be rewarded with teeming riffles, spectacularly clear water, and dazzling displays of wildlife.
Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Trip Report Date: October 16, 2023
Skill Level: Beginner
Class Difficulty: Riffles
Gradient:
≈4′ per mile
Gauge Recorded on this Trip:
Dorchester: ht/ft: n/a | cfs: 245
Current Levels:
Dorchester: ht/ft: n/a | cfs: 1050
Recommended Levels:
We recommend this level, although it corresponded to occasional scraping. You’ll want ideally around 300-350 cfs for a smooth ride.
Put-In:
Iverson Bridge Road Access, Decorah, Iowa
GPS: 43.41256, -91.5769
Take-Out:
Kumpf access on Iowa River Road, Dorchester, Iowa
GPS: 43.42727, -91.46262
Time: Put in at 1:30p. Out at 4:30p.
Total Time: 3h
Miles Paddled: 9.25
Wildlife:
A congress of bald eagles and an entire school district of fish, plus great blue herons and hawks.
Shuttle Information:
10.75 miles by vehicle or bicycle. Doable on two wheels, but it’s a long haul on country roads that are more accustomed to combines than Cannondales.
Background:
In the indispensable guidebook, Paddling Iowa, author Nate Hoogeveen lays out seven total trips along the Upper Iowa River, mostly consecutive, beginning in Minnesota and announcing last call about a dozen miles upstream from its confluence at the Mississippi River. This is his final recommended trip – and it’s a gem. Driving from 2-3 hours away, it made sense to paddle this last trip first.
This segment of the river is actually a smidge narrower than the previous trip. Averaging around 125′ wide, there’s a little more intimacy here. It will be up to the paddler herself to determine whether this sense is offset by the river’s many straightaways, for its meanders are more hemmed in and restrained than elsewhere up to this point. Being Iowa, farms are never far away – and with them corn and cattle. But this is a remote section of the river – note that the shuttle route is 1.5 miles longer than the paddling itself, meaning the roads are few and far between, a most welcome lack of development while on the water.
Finally, the end of this trip offers views of bluffs unlike anywhere else on this 120 mile-long river that humbly begins as a natural spring on the Minnesota side of the state line.
Somewhere during this trip, indistinctly, the Upper Iowa morphs into its final phase, as most rivers do when approaching their confluences – especially those that feed the Mississippi. Typically, they slow down, widen, and saunter through floodplains and bottomlands. Bluffs, cliffs, and ridgelines – if there are any to begin with – quietly step backwards and recede to the limelight. The Upper Iowa is no exception. But added to this natural progression is a most unnatural imposition of straightening/channelizing the river for agricultural purposes. Given the astounding beauty of the river upstream, the effect down here is rather like a plastic surgery hatchet job. But that isn’t truly felt until after this trip. The bluffs are magnificent (some 400′ tall), the river is very engaging (lots of riffles), and the landscape has a veritable “big sky” country feel to it (cue the music, whistle and all, good, bad, and ugly). Is it as pretty as sections in between here and the Lower Dam, or in the Bluffton area? No, but it’s still prettier than a lot of rivers in the Upper Midwest.
Overview:
The access at the Iverson Bridge is easy and grassy, with plenty of room for parking to boot. Light riffles begin right away and lead you to a stunning big bluff on the left with outcrops at its brow. It’s a rare river trip that begins with such a one-two punch of engaging current and spectacular scenery within the first hundred yards. An equally compelling sight for sore eyes is the nearly translucent clarity of the water (at least at this level, at least in mid-October). The big boulders calved from outcrops and escarpments above are nothing to sneeze at either. Again, it’s a heluva way to begin a trip!
A long sinuous ridge bends to the left on river-right that will then be followed by a bluff with a fine example of a glade environment, where thin, sandy soil cannot support much vegetation (like trees) and kind of look like a desert on a slope. That said, there are plenty of trees along the banks on this segment of the Upper Iowa that would provide some relief from the summer sun. More riffles chatter and cheer you along. A quaint and seemingly anomalous sandbank some 20’ high along the right bank appears in 2-4 time with the campgrounds of the Upper Iowa Resort & Rental. There’s a private landing here on the right for a modest fee of $2 that would cap off a neat and tidy six-mile trip. Even though it’s only two bucks, don’t jilt them, lest you wish to be Better Off Dead.
The languorous bridge at Highway 76 comes into view next, where there is no access. The landscape becomes remarkably pretty following the bridge, with views of looming bluffs, stately cottonwood trees 50′ tall if they’re a foot, ragged and eroded sandbanks half that height, and a cobblestone-strewn boulder garden. Sure, another mundane bank of corn lines the left, but the river sweeps past it briskly thanks to a fun drop of light rapids. This will be followed by additional commanding views of big bluffs as well as even friskier rapids beneath the cool pool of shade from sheltering tree canopies. The winsome action slows down a spell as Bear Creek comes in via stage left. (Incidentally, you’ll see more views of this beguiling body of water along the shuttle route. It’s potentially paddleable in higher water, but pastures with probable fences and farm bridges would pooh-pooh this prospect.)
From here to the takeout are approximately 2.25 miles of swift riffles and unique bluffs. Yes, you’ll see more corn and the occasional snorkel-like silo above the banks. But the outcrops and little riffle seams will more than adequately capture your attention. One unexpected upside of the agricultural footprint is the relatively flat banks that allow for valley-wide vistas. (It’s only 15ish miles from here to the Mississippi River, and the closer you are to the mouth, the flatter and more sprawling are the surrounding environs. Indeed (and sadly), the final seven or so miles of the majestic Upper Iowa are channelized and run like an uninspiring canal.) This is relevant because there is at least one distant bluff that hovers above the horizon line almost like an island several hundred feet above the floodplain. Colloquially called “the Elephant” due to its suggested forehead and outstretched trunk – like beauty itself, this too is in the eye of the beholder; I’d never see this myself if I hadn’t been primed to see it as such – there’s a very cool, very old dynamic of geology going on here worth delving into for a moment.
The Upper Iowa River is a very old stream. Determining precisely how old – and by “precisely” I mean give or take a million years, which quickly and quietly obliterates all comprehension – is a complex process far too complicated for me to begin understanding, much less internalize to such a superficial degree as to try and write about it. Besides, this is a paddling blog, not a geology one, so let me not rock the boat, so to speak. Suffice it to say that water levels, as well as meandering courses of the river, have changed many, many times. Throughout it all, night and day, year after year, the steady, indomitable work of humble erosion occurs and is sporadically occasioned by the blockbuster Hollywood special effects of cataclysmic events that in turn accelerate the pace and showcase the scale of erosional processes. Today, the so-called “Elephant” is a stand-alone mound detached from surrounding valley ridges due to ancient erosion. After ancient pathways get abandoned, they leave horseshoe-shaped loops behind. Since water is a champion of efficiency and always chooses the path of least resistance, it will not bother to meander unless something obstructs it – in this case, a huge chunk of rock. “The Elephant” stands where there was once an inside bend of a now abandoned segment of a primitive version of the Upper Iowa River and its valley. Sometimes called a “hanging meander,” it’s like The Elephant went up for a high five and the river just walked away.
You’ll see this marvel from a couple different perspectives as the river meanders in the modern day. Meanwhile, there’s a feast of geological splendor by way of one more awesome bluff on river-right as you sidle to the take-out. Note: there is no corresponding bridge here; the Kumpf access is essentially a wayside for paddlers and fishing folks. But it’s as easy to see as it is to utilize due to its big chunks of limestone steps. There is a generous parking area here, too.
What we liked:
First off and simply, this is a really pretty trip! The bluffs are beautiful, and the riffles are lively. Add to that scores of bald eagles above and throngs of fish below in the cool, clear water, well, what else do you need?
Scotty and I came out here for a little R&R for him and R&D for me. I knew where I needed to explore/ experience, and he was amenable; have kayak and trailer, will paddle. Amen. In the days that followed this trip, we pushed our luck going up the lower Upper Iowa River. (Try saying that three times fast.) Normally, one would do all these river trips in sequential order from upstream down. It’s more linear that way, if nothing else. Plus water levels should be more and more forgiving. We did this in reverse not to be imps or impractical; it just made sense with respect to the premium we’d put on the trip sections that were a priority, not to mention where our lodging was located. Since this was all new to us, it kind of felt like being a modern-era voyageur, working our way upstream instead of down-. For me personally, starting our first of four days total on the last recommended segment of the river was a heady bookend to the last time I’d been on the river, which was seven years ago, in 2017, and began way up in Kendalville. It’s a very different river up there! And our last day of paddling began where I ended my first ever trip on the river, back in 2014, so the full circle feeling was very satisfying, especially since we hadn’t planned on any of that.
What we didn’t like:
If I need to quibble about anything, it’s the occasional corridor of corn. But this trip is too splendidly pretty and engaging to care much about that.
If we did this trip again:
To squeeze out just a little more pretty before the poor river gets a lobotomy by way of agricultural channeling, we’d take out at the next landing four miles downstream at the intersection of Highway X20 (aka Lycurgus Road) and Iowa River Drive (as it makes a hairpin 90-degree angle bend around a bluff), intriguingly called Wild Landing access. To be fair, the river has lost most of its kink here and flows rather straight, but the bluffs are still in the foreground. (After this, they all but disappear in the backdrop and blocked by crop-high banks.)
Alternatively, one could start 1.5 miles upstream of the Iverson bridge, at an inconspicuous and unassuming fishing access on Iverson Bridge Road, and take in the sublime glory of the escarpment glade ridge we praised on the previous segment of the river.
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Related Information:
Upper Iowa River I: Kendallville to Bluffton
Upper Iowa River II: Chimney Rock Road to Malanaphy Springs
Upper Iowa River III: Malanaphy Springs to Trout Run Park
Upper Iowa River IV: Trout Run Park to Lower Dam
Upper Iowa River V: Lower Dam to Iverson Bridge Road
General: Decorah Tourism
General: Iowa Natural Heritage Foundation
General: Upper Iowa River Watershed Project
Guide: Paddling Iowa by Nate Hoogeveen
Guide: Upper Iowa River Paddling
Outfitter: Upper Iowa Resort & Rental
Wikipedia: Upper Iowa River
Photo Gallery:
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