Verlen Kruger and Valerie Fons' Long Trip

Part 5, "An Achievement - the Mother of Journeys," continues

First published in SCA SEP/OCT 2003 #23

In June of 1985, Valerie and Verlen Kruger paddled into the mouth of the MacKenzie River above the Arctic Circle. They kept paddling - to Lake Superior, Detroit, the Ohio River, and the Gulf of Mexico by March 1987. Florida, Bahamas, Caribbean, South America and its big rivers to Buenos Aires, in August of 1988. Back on the ocean, they crashed in surf.

We left them on Cape Horn Island, March 1, 1989. Over two years and 20,000 miles were behind them. Valerie was recovering from a head injury and exhaustion. Verlen's eyes were slowly improving with better sunglasses.

Nearly fifteen years later they still marveled at the settled weather that coddled them on their last days to the Cape. On Cape Horn Island, the easy weather continued. Verlen told of a cruise liner offshore that landed passengers on the island for the first time.

But, strong, striking Valerie had suffered. "The final weeks were very difficult. Sure, I was still headed to Cape Horn. Quitting was no option. But I hung onto the blessings of God, stepping stones to the finish."

"The end surprised me. Instead of feeling like the world had opened up, I was more focused than ever."

"We arrived at Cape Horn by the grace of God, determination, and the encouragement of others."

Valerie is happy now. Her future is her kids and Joe, writing her book, continuing her ministry - she's an ordained elder in the United Methodist church, and has been pastor in the local church for eight years. July 1, 2003 she took a family leave to adopt their fourth child, and to begin writing the book of the Two Continent Canoe Expedition, "weaving the journey of faith, adventure, and transformation." Looking back, Valerie felt she'd been - and let herself be - the object of abuse.

Her advice, however, remains: A ship in the harbor is safe but that is not what ships are built for.

Verlen said, "I don't feel she ever got credit that was due her. Val was a lot more able than she was giving herself credit for. I knew the trip would be different than any we'd done. So, we didn't go like I prefer - every mile under our own steam." It chafes him still.

"A couple thousand miles got subtracted. I accepted the fact of occasional rides going to Cape Horn, but I wanted the satisfaction of at least paddling around it." So he approached it with, "whatever it takes." He's pleased and proud of the planning, keeping the schedule, meeting the weather window, "because often the planning goes to naught."

His message is "to encourage people. If they have a dream, go for it. It doesn't have to be as extreme as Cape Horn. Think it through, plan, and go. There can be plenty of excuses along the way. But if the excuses were considered in your planning, before you left home, they shouldn't stop you, although they'll seem good excuses when you're out there. Keep moving toward your goal. Just keep going."

He said, "Cape Horn is a symbol of any goal in life. The harder a goal is, the more the satisfaction. The feeling once we got there is hard to describe. It wasn't getting to Cape Horn. It was where we had come to get there."

I asked, "You mean the journey?"

"Yes, the journey."

For Verlen's 80th birthday, he and wife Jenny had been considering paddling part of the route of Lewis and Clark back down the Missouri, from Fort Benton to Fort Peck. But I'm very sorry to report his prostate cancer of sixteen years seems now, as of Christmas 2003, to have spread. But he said, "I have no complaints. I have thirty four grandchildren, and eighteen great grandchildren."

An overwhelming idea from them, is recognizing the sustaining help of people along the way. From their view, the kindness of people made it possible. They are people who really like and enjoy others.

And who wouldn't be drawn to help them? We all were - the devout Christians of Latin America, and me the 99% atheist, 1 % agnostic. They won us over with their grace and enthusiasm, and their struggle.

~HH

Epilog for the Valerie & Verlen columns

Both are gone. Verlen died at 82 in 2004, from prostate cancer. Valerie, 71, passed away in December of 2022 from a blood cancer that had returned after years of remission, and bone marrow and stem cell transplants. They had divorced in 1984.

In 1993 Becky Taylor, thirty years younger, married Verlen, divorcing within a year. Verlen returned to Jenny, mother of their nine children, and for his 80th birthday trip, Jenny and he paddled close to two thousand miles down the Yukon River.

Philip Peterson Sr's book, All Things are Possible, the Verlen Kruger Story, brings their lives to 2007, revealing Verlen had not shirked from the harm he knew he'd caused his family.

Over the years, Valerie and I became close, and were entwined in email. Although she was a devout Christian (as was Verlen), she minimized religion with me, knowing I'm a non-believer. She was ordained a Methodist minister in 1995.

Our first meeting, in 1987, was on the Wabash River, in Indiana, when they were five thousand miles into their Two Continent Canoe Expedition. I offered to equip them with BSD sails (of which I was a developer). In Pensacola Florida, I gave them their sails and Verlen and I installed the sails' mast steps. Valerie told me of her expectation of children with Verlen.

Joe Ervin and Valerie married in 1994. They adopted six kids, all of whom, and Joe, visited Cedar Key in 2012. He died in 2020 after ten years of increasing dementia.

December 2021 she emailed from the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance center. Online she'd found in Florida, close to me, a traditional, canvas on cedar canoe for her canoe museum, on Washington Island Wisconsin. (See the column "Wanda's Touch" in Small Craft Advisor issue #135 MAY/JUN 2022.) Wanda reached Washington Island in February of 2022.

My son Bard and his wife Jessica, Seattle residents, had visited her twice in 2022 at the Seattle Care Center, for what was scheduled to be a six month's stay. She died December 10th, 2022.

~HH 09.01.2026