Fort Peck Lake

But this thing almost broke me...just a few entries that stand out:

7/25

Fort Peck lake is already whooping my butt.

The morning started off better than ever. Woke up to the herd of elk talking outside my tent! That is one of my all-time favorite things.

This was the most exhausting, every mile hard-fought 15 miles yet. Lowest mileage, but my body feels like it just did 10 hours straight of crossfit.

We hear a lot about looking forward rather than back, but I think both are important. Looking behind me to see the progress I had made is maybe the main thing that kept me going today by convincing me I was actually moving.

7/27

10 miles

I didn't want to quit the trip, but I definitely want to quit today. This battling straight into constant wind is exhausting.

They're fighting two forest fires around toight's camp. Got to watch the planes.

7/28

7 miles

Starting to think there is a lesson here; it can always get worse. Today started and ended uneventfully enough. The hours between 1 pm and 5 pm MT though, I will remember as one of the most infuriating, frustrating and despairing events I can remember. A head wind blew up. As I'd done a couple times before now, I decided to walk the canoe to keep moving.

Hank was running alongside as he normally would. We walked up around the first cove with no issue (there were six to get to the point). I noticed Hank had some flies on him, but that was also pretty normal.

In the second cove, about halfway around, I sunk to my thighs in silt mud. Almost losing a shoe and clinging to the boat for lift, I made it about 20 feet to solid ground again. Seeing that the mud was the better part of this cove, I decided to swim for it. I noticed more flies on Hank and they were starting to bite me now, but swat and move on, right?

By the fourth cove, the boat was infested with the little blood-thirsty, flesh-eating monsters. Hank's poor back and head were completely covered and he hadn't stopped running, rolling and crashing into the lake since the second cove.

In cove five, I hit more mud and swam for it again while trying to swat the brazen flies attaching themselves to my lips, ears, and even eyelids. By the time I made it with the canoe to cove six, you could have offered me a ticket straight to New Orleans, and I think I might have considered jumping ship. There were hundreds of the little beasts inside the canoe, outside the canoe, and all over both of us. I'm not proud of it, but there was plenty of screaming, crying, and cursing by the time it was over.

It's amazing though, how resilient we are and how memories are short...we got a gracious crosswind that got us back out to open water. By the time we reached the point, and stopped to camp, that horrid experience was already a distant memory. I cleaned out the fly carcasses from the canoe and am already thinking about strategy for the next few days. It will not include walking the canoe on this lake anymore.

7/29-8/1

The next few days were more of the same. No more than 7-12 miles, mostly directly into the east wind. My hands quit gripping the paddles and started cramping from over use.

After stopping early one day, not too much time went by before I heard someone yell, "hello"!

You don't expect visitors in places this remote...unless they are here for the same thing. I've learned that there are at least 15 of us out here doing the full length of the Missouri. This most recent visitor was one of them, Graham, and we got to share stories for a night.

8/2

After crossing the main lake for the last time before the last 20+ miles of paddling, a very nice couple stopped in a cove and offered a tow. I couldn't say no.

Unfortunately, the canoe couldn't handle the pressure of the waves at a higher speed and the center support beam snapped, the fiberglass buckled, the canoe flipped and filled with water.

Good news first, the canoe flotation devices worked, most items were recovered and the fiberglass did exactly what it should have done and popped right back out. The whole recovery stretched into a six hour evolution.

Bad news, lost my tackle box, golf umbrella, and a mud boot, the dry bags leaked a bit and despite reinforcement, the canoe has a weak spot I'll need to keep an eye on. Just grateful everyone's okay, and that lake is behind me. Onward and upward!