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Sometimes you wish you could write to the world and have its response contain all the little moments you missed while living in yours, tell you stories you could never dream, show you perspectives you’ve never seen.  You’d express your emotions, and it would tell where they came from.  The perfect pen pal. 

You travel and meet many faces.  Dive into the depths of souls while they reach out to you in conversation about their lives, in awe of yours.  They see you as something greater, and you want to tell them, I’m not.  I’m just as confused at times, I feel like I lose my lines before they turn into voice, sometimes I feel like I have no freedom of choice.  But you don’t.  You tell the sacrifice it takes to make moments like this happen, and leave it at that.  They rise in spirits by difference in normality you provide just by having a conversation, and you could not take that away from them.

You realize how self absorbed you truly are, how all the actions of the day revolve around what’s important, you.  Sure charity work gives you a joy in helping others.  But deep down, it simply makes you feel better about yourself. 

Sometimes Tom will call people who help us out a “godsend”.  I don’t like that term, it makes me fill with guilt because even at our worst moments, there are others who are more desperate, exhausted, drained, fatigued with all the ways life could go bad to where death is the only escape.  And here I am getting a car ride around a portage, or a free meal, or food.  Not that an honest appreciation for these moments does not exist, it’s just that…there is more than me.

It’s hard to meet people you wish you could spend more time with.  The type of people who excite the very pulse of your heart with their enthusiasm about life and the joy of learning.  You ask, “Why don’t you live near me?” and you realize that you probably wouldn’t know them if they did.  You have to be out of “your world” to appreciate the beauty in the rest.

Regrets are irrelevant in this time of my life.  They have 0 meaning.  No negative emotion builds about anything that has happened in the past because you are in the moment.  It’s nice to have that freedom, that lightness of thought.

When people ask “what do you do for a living?” I want to respond, “This.”  I want to be part-time in school, work 4 months a year and travel the rest.  That way retirement will never be a dream, it won’t even exist in my vocabulary.  But I don’t, because their responses are hardly encouraging most of the time and my only retaliation is…”I’m doing it now.” 

It’s nice to live a life where you do nothing but observe for awhile and then take your observations and implement them into bettering “your life” when you return back to it.  Lose some materialistic items, find joy in smaller things, grab that silver lining and lasso your friends with it when they complain about what you now consider unimportant worries. 

I am me, and my thoughts are mine.

The last 48 hours of my life – Tom and I woke up after being wind bound on a sand stone beach for two days…well actually a day and a half. Around 3pm the 2nd day the weather calmed down and we could have paddled buuuttt…I didn’t want to. We had our tarp rigged up to provide shade, I had water boiling on the fire and was planning to filter it afterwards and had 3 shots of whiskey in me after losing a few card games to Tom. So we stayed and had probably one of the most relaxing days of my life.


The following morning we were on the river at 7am and made it to little bend on Oahe Lake. It was easy paddling until the last 2 miles before the portage point. The stiff wind kept pushing the rear of my kayak and turning me sideways. Within minutes I was past my tolerance level, but we made it and hauled our kayaks up a slightly steep cliff and waited in exhaustion on the gravel road at the top until a guy came buy with a truck and boat and gave us a ride to the boat ramp on the other side of the ridge. The wind was pushing our bodies around as we loaded our gear on his truck. Once we made it to the ramp we set up camp and spent the night reading, playing cards (I’ve lost 9 out of 11 games, sigh), eating, and fending off biting flies.

We were on the river paddling at 430am the next morning (today) and made it 34 miles to the dam by 1pm. We were paddling on glass, which is efficient paddling, but miserably hot. Once we reached the take out point I helped a guy load up his boat. He showed his appreciation by returning 15 minutes later with a 6-pack. From there we got a ride around the dam and ate lunch at the marina where we met Mike Jones who offered us to stay at his home tonight. Mike actually helped Zane (who we met in Fort Peck earlier on this trip) last year when he paddled this river…what are the odds we meet the same guy who just happened to be at the marina dropping his daughter’s truck off.   He said he would pick us up a campground just 6 miles downriver in Pierre. We paddled to the campground (which involved a portage over a causeway, making it 3 portages in 2 days) and found some people who owned a camper that would let us tie up our boats for the night while we stayed at Mike’s.

During our time at the campground we met a hitchhiker who has been traveling for the past 7 years around the world (Middle East, and US). He and I hiked to the grocery store to get some food. Afterwards Mike called and said he was on his way to pick us up. I let the hitchhiker use my tent for tonight since thunderstorms were in the forecast. Mike picked us up and we went back to meet his family and showered, had a ridiculous amount of walleye, and sleep in beds…ahhh, beds.
Random lines I’ve heard in the past few weeks that have popped into my head periodically…
“I don’t have a dollar in my pocket, I just stepped on my cigarette, but there’s a bar downtown that will give me credit” – trampled by turtles.
“Shi Chya” Rex at the Williston campground.
“There’s just something about shooting a walleye in the face.” – Mike Jones, Pierre
Just random thoughts – It’s amazing how many people are unaware of the issue of human trafficking. When I tell people I am trying to raise money for a shelter for women and girls who have been trapped into the sex industry, they respond by saying they know someone who works at an animal shelter, or a guy will say some joke he would regret if it was on camera. Sigh.
All we hear from fisherman are the same lines.”You have a long way to go” “If I were you I would attach a trolling motor to those kayaks.” “I can’t believe you guys don’t have a fishing pole.”
61 days now. We just finished the largest 3 lakes and only have 3 more to go (all of which do not equal the distance of Lake Oahe that we just completed).

Fort Peck Lake = 5 days, 3 days (solo)

Sakakawea = 6 days

Lake Oahe = 12 days

Cherish the seconds,

Charles

Tom and I have been extremely fortunate on this trip so far. Of course there are days when the wind tests every ounce of tolerance in your body and has you paddling mad at the world for hours while only gaining a few miles that could have been earned in minutes on a good day. But ultimately, we have picked a great time of year and year to paddle this river. The water is extremely high. Lake Sakakawea was at 1848 when we went through. In 1997 it was at 1854. This makes the lakes wider but simultaneously gives us easier camping options. Plus when it goes down a little, we will have a plethora of driftwood to choose from for campfires.

After leaving Washburn a few days ago Tom’s skeg leaked into his back hatch. We were forced to stay at the Cross Ranch State Park for a couple of days to let the glue, that the maintenance guys let us use, dry fully. During that time we helped prep for the Wild West Festival they were going to have that weekend by setting up tepees, moving an antique wagon around, and placing some fence posts. That earned us a free night stay in the tepees and an invite to their staff BBQ. It was a great experience.

There are pros and cons to no wind while paddling. Pros = faster pace, more miles covered, and the joy of saying how calm the water is every few minutes. Cons = HOT and covered in nats. Sometimes I put mosquito netting over my head just so I can breath without eating them or having them find every crack on my face to crawl around. Tom developed a small sunburn and the heat is definitely taking a toll on our enthusiasm to paddled during midday. Wake early and paddle – rest in the heat – paddle a little more before dark seems to be the schedule we are creating.

Bill is working out great. He wakes me early in the morning (which would normally be annoying except for the fact that I need to get up early), sleeps while I paddle, and gives us entertainment at night. He is also, needless to say, a “chick magnet” with his new life jacket…which is fortunate because Tom and I are not exactly getting better looking the longer we are on the river. 53 days now, over 1,000 miles.

I may have put the Prairie Nights Casino out of business yesterday with the amount of food I ate at their buffet…those “unlimited options” don’t come often so I made sure to take full advantage.

Life is always great when looking from the right angle.

Bad connection to upload photos with, will try at next library.

Charles

Currently I am sitting in a casino lobby around mile marker 1257 just across from Beaver Creek on Lake Oahe and a lady named Mrs. Harltand is kind enough to let me use her computer for a moment.

Tom and I have perfected the art of “Guerilla hopping” – that’s when you find yourself stuck on a sandbar and you place your fists on either side of the kayak and lift it with your arms and legs and hop from one end to the other, only to avoid getting out of the kayak, which inevitably, would have saved you time.

We slept in Tepees at the Cross Ranch State Park and met the first African American US forest Ranger (Charles “Chip” Cartwright).

Bismarck – we met a fellow paddler (Eric) just before the first bridge and he paddled with us for a few until he pulled out to meet his wife.  We met them at the Broken Oar Bar later that evening.  Afterwards Tom and I crossed the very busy river (Friday night in good weather) to a marina where we found ourselves talking to locals in their pontoon boats for a few.  A girl named Jessica gave me her number and asked me to call her tomorrow if we were in the area for a ride to town.  Tom and I paddled across the river one more time and camped alongside a corn field on a peninsula where the Heart River enters the Missouri.  The next morning we were woke by the breathing of deer near our tent and found a ride across the Heart River from a guy fishing to the Lincoln State Park.  We toured General Custers home and the Indian lodges before Jessica picked us up.  We had lunch in Bismarck and bought a life jacket for Bill.

Afterwards she gave us a ride to her friend Sue, we had met the day before and we headed out on their pontoon boat to our campsite.  Tom and I packed up and made a whopping 6 miles that day before we met some people on a sandbar that offered us to play German golf and free beer.  We ended up camping there that night and met a man named Rabbit who lived on that island for 3 or 4 months a year during the summer.  He made us an amazing breakfast that morning and we left Bismarck and entered Oahe.

That’s all I have time for, we are in good shape and Bill is still cute.

- Charles

CHARLES

Right now I am sitting at the library in Washburn, North Dakota.  It’s a very accessible river town located right near Fort Mandan (which we just toured). 

Where to start, hmmm, first of all….we got a dog in Williston, yes, you read correctly.  His name is Peyote Bill (goes by Bill and I cannot divulge into the story of his name at the current moment).  He’s a 3 month old Pomeranian – Poodle mix and is working out extremely well.  He sits on the top of my kayak until the weather gets bad and he roams around in the cockpit while I throw the skirt over to keep him dry and warm.  We got him to fend off harmful predators such as grasshoppers, spiders, etc.  He did bark at some Indians at the Four Bears campground the other night though, that was useful.  I had heard that the Indians would drink and harass us, but I did not want to believe in the stereotype.  That is exactly what they did though.  At 430am I had heard the same country song for hours, and had an obese woman throw up within smelling distance of my tent. Long night.

I am extremely happy to have Lake Sakakwea behind us.  Not only because the winds would change in a matter of seconds, but truthfully, I am tired of hearing all the different pronunciations of the name haha.  I will miss the sunsets though, absolutely mesmerizing.  At one point Tom and split up on a cross because the winds kicked up.  It was such a sudden change I did not have time to put on my skirt properly which resulted in water gushing in.  I was at full capacity with water, food, etc, because we had just left Williston that day.  One of the waves knocked Bill off the boat and in one quick swoop (barely interrupting my paddle stroke) he was grabbed and thrown into my lap.  I was about 30 yards from shore with a lap full of water and a soaking wet dog (kind of ratlike when he’s wet) when I pushed my paddled in the water to see if I could feel land, and I did.  I jumped out chest high and pulled the ridiculously heavy kayak ashore.  When I say ashore I mean – over several logs because the water level is continually rising and up a small ledge.  Completely fatigued I fell chest down on the top of the kayak and could feel the vibration of my heartbeat shake the boat while the waves crashed just feet away acting as a pleasant reminder of my own mortality.  After having been on the Mississippi and this river for some time, I can say confidently that that was one of the scariest moments I have had on water.

Yesterday the park ranger (Keith) gave us a ride to the other side of the Garrison Dam.  I was not feeling well and threw up about 3 times before we got on the water and paddled 35 miles to Washburn. We found ourselves stuck on several sandbars and made it to a city park just before dark.  I stayed up and had a few beers with a guy who had spent 18 months in prison for 6 convicted felony charges.  It’s amazing the depth of conversations you have with people when you meet them on the river.  At times, it seems as though they open up everything they have kept hidden from the world in one night, to a complete stranger.  A wonderful connection.

The other day Tom and I stopped at a little market in Pick City and got some food.  After ordering 2 double cheeseburgers, a 4 piece chicken and some ice cream I went and looked at myself in the mirror.  God did I feel guilty for smiling at the girl when I ordered.  To say the least – my appearance will undoubtedly scare small children by the conclusion of this trip.

Tom and I have concluded that he is more likely to get us a ride somewhere (everyone seems to say no to me even though we use the same lines to ask for one) and I am more likely to meet interesting people on the side of the river.  It works out well.

Sometimes Tom and I will paddle in complete silence for hours at a time, lost in thought.  Other times, I’ll go off on a hypocritical rant about random subjects, one tangent after another, or Tom will talk about all the random things he knows or has read.  Once when he was cursing at his kayak for being stuck on a sandbar I said, “oh the moments that no one sees.”

Sometimes I sit and stare at the water for hours before dark. It always tells you something different, always has a response or topic ready. I just kind of sit there and drift. The other night I watched a rainbow split a storm today across the river while listening to the waves crash against a nearby bluff.

 Bismarck is only a day or so away and from what I have been told on the river, it should be quiet the experience.  Like every second of this trip, I am looking forward to it.

TOM

Well it’s about time that I wrote something again so people don’t think I drowned or gave up. Despite some wariness, I joined Charles as we did the white cliffs and breaks sections again (Ft. Benton to Ft. Kipp). This was definitely the right decision and I really thank Zane Squires for pushing me to do that. We even had spent a night up by Hole in the Wall. I however chose not to do the sufferfest that is Lake Peck though I did miss out on seeing the elk and the lake under full moon. On the other hand I did get to meet Lee and his wife Sherri (Sorry about spelling here). They were extremely helpful; they drove me up to Glasgow. It was an interesting tie down job (We had a single rope, a parachute cord, and no luggage racks) but the boat was very stable. They know how to travel and really enjoy the trip and it was worth every second off the water to meet them. From Glasgow, Zane took me down to the river and saw me off. From there I made time across the Montana reservation. I make about 40 miles a day and did my best not to be seen or herd by anyone. The daily storms were rather frightening and I was very glad for a great tent with lots of tie down points. One of the more interesting nights I finished paddling, ate around a fire and had gone to my tent to read. I cracked David Miller’s book to check my mileage and just randomly read about the section I had done. He described a very nice campground he had found in the area. It sounded kind of familiar. The next morning I looked for some of the identifying points and sure as shooting I had found the same great location by mere chance.

Ft. Union was an excellent stop as soon as I was able to get off the shore and away from the mosquitoes. They were awful!!! I had tried to meet up with Stan, just past the confluence of the Yellowstone. Unfortunately I was unable to get a hold of him because I have little to no cell phone coverage at all. (Note don’t use AT&T in Montana). Once again completely coincidently, I camped at the right spot on his land.

I finally decided to camp at a known location around Williston ND, at Legion Park. I had seriously considered bypassing it but desperately needed to charge my phone. There I met Bill the campground host of the Legion Park. Since the Legion guys were getting older he decided to man the park on a voluntary basis to keep up on maintenance and down on vandalism. Wow, am I happy I stopped. We hung out that night and the next morning I was journaling and not really wanting to leave and Bill said that it was his birthday and that I would have to stay for that. What a night. Stan came by and I found out he was old friends with Bill. The park was home to several roughnecks because of the oil boom in the area so stories abounded. They keep up the park and genuinely care about the area. Many of them are from MN and Wisconsin so we talked about home. By that time Charles was a day behind so I decided that since it was such a good spot and had good people that I would wait for him. I then found out we needed to stay there a couple days more so that Charles could pick up his package that the post office wouldn’t have till after the July 4th holiday. In all I spent 6 days in Williston and wouldn’t of had it any other way. Besides Bill we met Ken (an oilman’s oilman who showed he knew how to kayak), Rex the card shark, and some other guy who proved he could neither kayak nor hold his booze. The latter ensured we got to meet the local law (the Bob’s). Fortunately they quickly realized the situation (that one guy was the problem and that the rest of us wanted no part of it). On our last day we did pick up the dog that we named after the campground host.

When we finally left Williston and proceeded on to the lake. It proved to be an interesting day with both Charles and I swamping our boats (last time I ever paddle a lake with my skirt out of arm’s reach). This is even stranger in that we swamped after we had split up at about the exact same time, just within a mile of each other. I was fortunate enough to meet Greg, the local enforcement around Lewis and Clark. The next day I found out that Charles was 3 hours ahead of me and so I paddled hard and caught up with him for the evening at Four Bears campground. This was rather fortunate as some of the local residents of the reservation were propagating negative stereotypes. In all the hustle and bustle I did happen to meat John Bear whose family owned the shelter we camped near. We have made decent time from then only having to pull off the water a couple times when the wind kicked up. We almost stayed at the Indian Hills resort after meeting the owner who jet skied near us on one of the longer lake crossings. The resort was on the wrong side of the lake so it would have been unwise to cross to the wrong side of the lake.

We finally finished the lake and met Keith one of the rangers at the state park near the damn. He really helped us out by driving our boats to a suitable campsite (Great Camping and it had showers!!!). We had to wait a day here as a package was rerouted to a closer post office. Just because it’s the Garrison Damn does not mean Garrison was the closest post office Dad. Regardless it worked out and Keith got us to the local post office and down to the boat ramp. Talk about service. We got out by 1:00 and made the 35 miles on the blessed current. Along the way we attempted to go up the Knife River but rather lost. In the end we pulled up to Washburn late in the evening. A local resident was kind enough to offer beer but I was too afraid of the mosquitoes to collect. They must love Minnesotans or something. This morning we hiked into town and picked up cereal and milk that we ate out of banana cream pie dishes. I can’t even remember the last time I had cereal. As we were about to leave I happened to see a man who I felt compelled to talk to. It turns out that Mike was the right person to talk to. He gave us the 6 mile ride we needed to see Ft. Mandan (where Lewis and Clark weathered a winter) as well as giving us a lot of local history. We walked to the local interpretive center and were once again graced with a ride back into town from 2 local gentlemen. Well I herd the next door facility has excellent pie so I need to go test for myself. Signing off- Tom tjbkv9@mst.edu

Currently I am sitting at the El Rancho hotel in Williston North Dakota.
Two days ago I made a 55 mile day to place myself in a good position to meet Tom the following.  I stopped at Fort Union (an old trading post that has been remodeled) during the day.  Getting there was no easy task.  Tom had texted me telling me it was “hard to reach and be prepared to get wet”…he was not exaggerating.  After crashing through some baby willows i got out on a slightly steep bank, hiked waste high through a 100 yard swamp.  I had just entered North Dakota less than 20 minutes before and it was though every mosquito and their grandmother was waiting to greet me.  I walked into the fort soaking wet and was greeted warmly by the knowledgeable staff who showed me around. 

I paddled to a location Tom said was good to camp and reached there by 8pm.  Although my kayak was only 20ft away from where i pitched my tent, i probably walked 2 miles while quickly setting up camp just to dodge the mosquito’s.  To say the least, i am becoming one hell of a good dancer and could probably set the record for breaking down and setting up camp with a Eureka Zeus Classic tent.  I was suppose to meet a man named Stan Anderson their but he never answered.  Instead i sat in my tent dripping in sweat just to avoid the mosquito’s while a storm approached.  It hailed for three hours.  At one point i was under my sleeping bag plugging my ears trying to sleep.

From the time i got out of my tent to the time i pushed off into the water it was only 9 minutes and 5 bites the next morning.  I reached Tom’s campsite around noon and was greeted by some of the local campers.  After some food and reorganization a guy (Ken Hall)  let me drive his diesel into town to go to the store and get some food. Later that night i learned how to play “smear” (a local card game) and turned out to be pretty good at it.  It was the campground caretakers birthday so we drank and celebrated.  My partner(a camper, tom was asleep) ended up drinking to much and went out to go to the bathroom.  After about 30 minutes we began wondering about him.  He had been complaining about the fireworks during the game and eventually showed up to the trailer with a guy none of us recognized in his grip.  “What’s going on?” i asked the man we didn’t know because my partner was on the phone talking.  “I have no idea.”  He was obviously scared and then i realized that my partner had dragged this man over hear after seizing his possessions (pills, keys, drugs, etc).

Things progressed quickly and Sheriff Bob showed up and took control of the situation.  At 230am i found myself with 15 other campers filling out wittiness reports and drinking whiskey, all in shock at how the night had turned.

I had two packages sent to Williston that i was suppose to get yesterday but only one arrived.  So now tom and I are stuck here until the post office opens after the holiday so i can pick up my new tent (thanks dad), and not have to worry about mice getting in anymore.
Norm Miller has been helping us out by sending texts with the current weather expectations.  David Millers book is becoming more and more useful.  I glance at it for the maps but refrain from reading to much just so there is still a mystery ahead.  Either way these two are helping us greatly.
So yeah….i’ve shot a gun, been hailed on, stayed on the reservation, saw elk – bison – deer swimming across the river – danced the jig around mosquito’s – created many new songs and poems and met tons of people (some i am fine not meeting twice)…not a bad week.

Every time people ask why I don’t have a trolling motor on the side of my kayak to help with the wind.  I try to describe the connection with water you obtain from constantly paddling while sitting below the surface of it.  sitting here at this computer for only 30 minutes i already miss it, but no worries, she’s waiting for me.
 
“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” Ghandi
 
- Charles

So just a quick update while I have access to a computer…

Anyway, when I reached the Fort Peck Marina again I was humbly greeted by Tara (who owns the marina) and the local fisherman.  Zane came to pick me up and took me to Lewis and Clark point where you can see the muddy Milk River come into the Missouri.  We partied too hard (if that is really possible), which resulted in me pitching a tent on the other side of the Fort Peck Dam at 230am.

I was waked by an airboat the next morning and on the river by 6am.  I had met a man named Jeff Neubauer at the marina the previous day who lived in Wolf Point on the reservation that said he would let me stay in his house when I got there.  That day was the hardest day of the trip so far…

I immediately had a headwind coming out of the east and it continued until 1pm.  I went through two sets of rapids (nothing extreme) and was stuck on two sandbars.  I called Jeff around 330 since the wind had died down and told him I was about 4 hours away and I would call him when I was under the bridge.  As soon as I got off the phone the wind kicked up again and I found myself leaning forward, head down, paddling my tail off until 530 when I called and told him I might not be able to make it that night before dark. 

His response was simple, “Paddled your ass off, I’ll see you there.”  I bit those words for the next 3 hours.  During that time I hit another set of rapids.  This one I approached the completely wrong way and found myself turned sideways heading straight for a rock.  It slammed against the front right of my kayak and turned me backwards and I was left paddling backwards for about 30 more yards saying, “oh crap, oh crap.”  Looking back I wish I had an aerial view of that moment so I could laugh at myself.

I got stuck on another sandbar and by the time I reached Jeff’s house I had screamed every 4-letter word in the book in anger at the wind, river, government, ducks, anything really…I was tired.  But, I had a good shower, meal, and conversation with Jeff in his extremely well-kept home and slept hard on the couch.

I was on the river by 7am the next morning and paddled through Poplar around noon.  I drifted for the next several hours and read before pulling over to escape from the heat under some Cottonwood trees where eagles nested to have lunch (good ole’ Mac & Cheese).

After paddling around a corner I saw a possible storm approaching and some people on four-wheelers and asked if I could camp on their property for the night.  They (Larry and Lauri Handy) invited me to their house for dinner (salad, steaks (meaning multiple), potatoes, etc) and let me sleep in their spare room. 

Currently I am sitting at their table after having an amazing omelet and toast with homemade jam about to head back on the river. 

I have not heard from Tom in a couple of days.  My guess is he is probably 100miles ahead or so, I can only hope he is having this much good fortune.

A friend texted me this quote the other day…”the man at the top of the mountain did not fall there.”

I will hike into Williston in a few days and update there if possible.

Charles