As temperatures creep upward, people are making big life choices that factor in our warming climate. But few decide to paddle nearly 2,000 miles to the Gulf Coast because climate change interferes with their livelihoods.
Ann Rose, an off-grid farmer, did just that. She kayaked 1,987 miles from her farm in Lansing, North Carolina, to the Gulf Coast. Her forthcoming documentary film, “River Warrior,” directed by North Carolina local Haley Mellon, captures her journey up the New River to the Mississippi River.
"I really didn't know that I would make it, but I knew that I was going,” Rose said. “The hardest thing I ever did in my life was pack my boat and leave that day. I have never done anything that hard, and I raised three kids by myself.”
She said this at a Q&A at the Confluence bar in Cramerton this past Saturday. The crowd, maybe thirty strong, applauded.
For Rose, who’s nearly 60, the decision was not as premeditated as most might think. She said when July 7 rolled around, she just “jumped in [her] boat and went.”
She left the farm, putting in the U.S.S. Katie, named after her old dog, at Big Horse Creek. It was a hard choice, but one she made because, even off-grid, civilization had a pervasive way of finding her.
“It's climate change,” she said. “That's the only way I know how to say it is climate change, because I live in a temperate rain forest, and we've been in a drought at my farm for five years.”
When the crops stopped coming up, she said she had given up on farming. There just wasn’t enough water. In the documentary, Rose sowed okra and bok choy seeds alongside farm hand Ethan Grillo. It’s the spring before her trip, and she’s preparing to leave the farm in his hands for the summer.
“I think the environment is in crisis,” Rose says, while Grillo continues planting seeds. A sign that reads “Rose Mountain Farm” hangs behind her. “We all need to step the [redacted] up.”
The trip, the documentary and the videos she posted on social media are part of her way of doing that. She wanted to draw attention to the climate and environmental problems she experienced on the water. During the trip, she conducted water tests, recording her own impromptu citizen science project.
“The New River watershed in Ashe County, where I live, is some of the cleanest water that contributes to the Mississippi River Basin,” Rose said.
A little over 300 miles in, she swapped the paddle for pedals, two 14-inch fins propelling her the remaining 1,500 miles. Some days, Rose pedaled more than 50 miles. “I was so enamored by all my surroundings and all that I was going through,” she said, “I don't think I had time to think about being lonely.”
When asked to rank the essentials for anyone planning to paddle 2,000 miles to the Gulf Coast, she put water at the top of her list, followed by shelter. She deployed mini solar panels to charge her GPS, cell phone and cameras. After popping three air mattresses, she converted to a foldable foam pad.
Along the way, she saw fish kills, factories and heard stories of historic pollution throughout the Mississippi Basin. As Rose neared Baton Rouge, the water became dangerous for other reasons as well. She surprised two alligators when she pedaled over them.
“It startled them. They both jumped,” she said. “They came up out of the water, flat, and they were turning. They were as freaked out as I was.”
Louisiana’s Department of Wildlife and Fisheries says there are more than 3 million wild alligators in the state. The alligators broke the fin of her boat, immobilizing it. Mellon, the director, found a tour guide to take her out and rescue Rose.
“We drove up to a barge, a working barge, and asked for a specific tool to fix her boat,” Mellon said. They got the tool, fixed the boat and Rose was back in the river.
Near-death experiences aside, she also saw a lot of beauty on the river. In Rome, Indiana, she got caught in a short downpour. When it cleared, a rainbow crossed the river, right in front of her path.
“I started singing out loud, which I never do,” Rose said. “But it was just a moment of, ‘Oh my gosh, this is so awesome. I get to see this because I'm here.’”
On the 81st day, Rose reached the Gulf. Blustering winds whipped at her white hair as she stood on the dock, debriefing.
It was so windy because Hurricane Helene had just passed through Florida the day before. The date was Sept. 27, 2024. The same day Helene flooded Lansing.
“I didn't realize it had hit home,” Rose said. “Within that hour of me finishing [the trip], [Helene] had knocked out the cell phone towers at home.”
She found out when she tried to call her mom. Mellon planned to film the interaction, but when Rose went to call, the phone couldn’t connect. Rose’s cell carrier, Carolina West, had been knocked out of commission by the storm.
Her mom was fine; she lives in Ohio. But Lansing was another story.
“I was back in the hotel the next day before I realized that Lansing had been gutted by Helene,” Rose said.
She returned home and immediately dove into the recovery efforts. Rose is now a project manager with the nonprofit Lansing’s Bridge to Recovery, where she helps rebuild the private infrastructure destroyed during the storm.
The documentary, “River Warrior,” is still in production. They launched a GoFundMe campaign to complete the editing of the final film.
