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It was a 33 hour Greyhound ride (there is a photo of me at the first bus station in Fort Myers Fl at 3:45am) on 4 different buses to St. Louis. I had a duffle bag and a 50 gallon waterproof bag with my paddles duck taped to it. During a 3 hour layover in Atlanta, the girl who was sitting next to me complaining about her abusive relationship she was running from went to the bathroom and slit her ankles. Fortunately I had my first aid kit in my backpack so I gave her some Band-Aids.

Stayed two nights at my aunts where I met Tom Bailey my partner for this trip.  Headed to his house in Minnesota for a couple of nights to dry pack our gear and double check everything.  We leave Friday morning to Montana to stay with Norm Miller (A man who paddled up the Missouri River and knows the area well, he will paddle with us the first couple of days hopefully).  So we should be on the river by Saturday and reach Great Falls within a week or so.

Here are some photos of our kayaks.  Tom is paddling a Delta 16’ thermoplastic kayak (named Eliza), I have a 17’ plastic Tempest 170 by Wilderness Systems (named lil’ Sydney).  The weather is suppose to be cold and rainy our first few days, of course, sigh.

I’ll hike into a library and send updates when I can.

Charles

Well 6 days now and can’t complain about any of them, the kayaks still float : )  It has rained everyday except today (though it is not over) but nothing extreme.  Paddling through the Gates of the Rockies was amazing, I think we paddled twice the entire time, mainly just drifting, gazing, and trying to convince ourselves that this is really happening.

Tom and I seem to get along great, we are completely different from one another but share one common interest – we want an adventure, and that we are getting.

Few quick stories and then I have to go hike back across the town of Cascade (population 800) Montana to the river where my kayak is waiting – hopefully that is.

David Miller wrote a guide book for paddling the Missouri River 5 years ago and we have been eyeballing that at night.  Yesterday I was on the river by 6am and paddled 16 miles through Holter Lake to hit a restaurant he recommended.  It took 3 hours, only to find out it had closed 3 years ago.  So instead I stopped at the local marina and waited for Tom to catch up (we paddle apart sometimes but always find ourselves stopping at the same point eventually), a man bought me breakfast (2 bean burritos and a powerade), I met a guy who lives within 3 miles of my home in FL (I’ll see him next season at the restaurant I work at, weird huh?)   From there it was a 20minute paddle across the river to the portage point at the Dam where the Forman “Scott Doroty” gave Lil Sydney and I a ride to the other side.  After that it was fly fisherman territory for many miles.  This part of the river has one of the densest populations of blue ribbon trout in the world at an estimated 3,800 fish per square mile.  The water is crystal clear.  We paddled 16 more miles in hopes of reaching a lodge Miller had recommended – it was closed as well, but a man working on the place gave me a ride into town with him last night to a local bar and had a burger and some micro brewed beer.  One of the local fly fisherman came in and sat two stools away and said to the bartender, “you won’t believe what I saw today.  These two fellers in kayaks are paddlen from three forks to the gulf.” It was a quick point from the bartender to my direction, and the guy turned to face me and I said, “that’s me.” –and then the conversations began…  Great time at a bar in a little town I would have never known existed.

Tom and I took the COLDEST baths of our lives the other day.  That’s all I really want to say about that.

Realistically I could never complain about anything that happens on this river, it is still “life on a river” and that has a perfection all in itself. 

Ps…every night I try to text my friend Tommy Owen with a quick summary of the day and our GPS location, he posts that on my Facebook account.  So if you would like more frequent posts you can find it there, otherwise I’ll send some more in the next town.

The library lady is kicking us out so I cannot upload photos sorry….honestly sorry

-Charles
 
 
 
 
 
Tom =
 are on our sixth day and we just pulled into the town of Cascade. This is the first time that I’ve had reception. Overall teh trip has had amaxing weather. Two days ago was the gates of the mountains, which was extremely cool. Voices echo for quite a while in this section. Its also a nasty section when speed boaters zip through and kick up a wake you cant do anything about. We got out and explored one of the caves in the rock walls. Its cool to think that Lewis and Clark saw these same hillsides. Last night we camped on one of their sights, which was neat. Yesterday had clear shallow water that brought the fly fisherman out in droves.
 
I can’t describe the smallenss one feels when surrounded by the Rockies and the sky for miles and miles around. Just being in the library to type tyis is claustrophobia inducing. Paddling with Norm Miller was awesome. I am deeply glad to have had him for the first two days…. and the food he brought. . I don’t know when I’ll get a meal like that again.
 
The wind today is crazy. It it werent to our backs, paddling woudl probably be a waste of time. As it is we have been speeding down the riber (around 6mph). The occasional bend makes it a headwind though and forces respect for Mother Nature.
 
I will admit I was quite skeptical about taking on a partnerin this endeavor despite all the advantages it held. Fortunately these worries have been releived. Charles has a level head and a greate attitude and has been a joy to paddle with. I did laugh a bit when he didnt realize that tents shouldnt go on thistles. But I’m sure that will be returned when we see copper heads and water moccasins and whateverelse  else we find down south.,
 
Well we’re getting kicked out of the library. I would suggest looking at Charles Vaught’s Facebook for some pictures if your interested.
 
Enjoy your day wherever you are, I know I will. See you on the river!!!
 
Tom Bailey

CHARLES

Over 550 miles so far, day 19.

We are staying at the Fort Peck Marina currently.  A big storm is coming in tonight so we might stay here another night to wait it out before getting back on the river.  I spent 4 hours mowing the marina’s lawn yesterday to pay for the camp fee and knock off a few dollars from the tab we started up at the restaurant.

A few random stories….

Remember how in the last note I told you about the flyfisherman who came and sat 2 stools away and told the bartender about seeing us on the river?  We’ll he said he hould be on Fort Peck lake the following weekend and if he saw us he would give us a beer (after the fact that I had complained to a group of flyfishermen that they seem to be holding back at passing out beer to paddlers haha).  Well I’ll be damned if Tom and I hadn’t just got back on the lake after making some lunch and this boat starts flying towards us….we raised our paddles to make sure they saw us and sure enough, the same fly fisherman pulls next to us with ice cold beers….i can’t even imagine the odds of him finding us in the middle of the Fort Peck (4^th largest resevoir in the world, over 34 miles wide at some points, it has more coastline than California, needless to say, it’s huge).

 

One morning we wanted to get up early and paddle. Tom yelled over to my tent at 330am and we both establlished we did not want to get out of our comfy sleeping bags and breakdown camp in the cold and dark and paddle.  We flipped a coin to make the decision and it was in our favotr to sleep.  Unfortunately guilt overrided the coins decision and we packed up and were on he water before sunrise.  Less than 30 mintues later we were paddling on a sheet of glass while watching the sun come up over the hilline and listening to the coyotes howl around us to welcome it.  “Could you imagine, we almost sacrificed this moment,” I told Tom while we gazed in silent admiration. 

Some days are tough, we paddled 43 miles on Peck one day and it took us over 15 hours.  We’ve set up a tent several times in mid afternoon, sunny weather just to wait out the wind.  We read, threw the frisbee around the best we could, ate and slept.

I go on a lot of hikes during the day or before bed.  Most of the time I am following the tracks of the antelope we have seen during the day.  I climbed a hill that was covered in sheets of quartz, each step contatining a crunching noise and a spectacle of glistening light around my boot.

I told Tom it is hard to get mad on a trip like this.  Everytime I get angry, I look at is as a way to practice patience and build tolerance.  It is just to beautiful of a feeling to be here, in the moment, for months at a time.  No responsibility except for my kayak and I.  All of your worries are simplified into the most basic of things – food, shelter, weather, etc.   No drama, gossip, deadlines, yada yada….just here, in the moment.

Of course you miss things, but standing on the highest hill you have the energy to climb and looking out over the river as the suns rays peirce through the clouds making a luminescent desgign across the water only Mother Nature could create while you sychronize your breathe to the rythem of the crashing waves below and inhale all the beauty you can, only to release it and continue being lost in thought,  completely and utterly…there. It is such a writable moment, such an unwritable feeling.

Right now, though less than 20% of the trip is done, I already don’t want to go back to SW Florida.  I have found my home, or prefer the “lack of” really.  Every morning you wake up and unzip the tent to a completely new adventure, every night you zip closed the tent and think “how did that all just happen in one day.”

TOM

We are spending a day or two in Ft. Peck living the good life in a nightly rented in a camper trailer. We sped through the Ft. Peck Reservoir in only 3 days. Very happy to have had good weather. Definitely been a good time. We have just recently broke the 550 mile marker. Only 2 more huge lakes left though there are a couple smaller ones as well. My last message was rather jumbled due to the fact I was typing frantically as the librarian was trying to kick us out. Charles was asking her questions of every nature in order to give me more time but my typing suffered. Generally all is well. It was good to stop here and resupply. I am taking the time to let the body rest and knit back up together so it will be stronger in the coming days. Our host at the campground has very kindly driven us into Glasgow (where I am typing this) since Ft. Peck does not have a library. We met a local paddler by the name of Zane who has done the Missouri multiple times as well as the Mississippi. Last night we were privileged to get a night tour of the damn by a local. As he remarked they built it in the 30′s. Well someone is waiting on the computer so I need to get off.
Tom Bailey

So this guy (Zane) who has paddled the river several times is giving us a ride back upstream 300 miles to Fort Benton so we can do the most scenic part of the river again…basically the trip is almost starting over…tomorrow
 
Charles

Well, here I am again at the library in Fort Peck Montana, let’s start with some stories….

Tom and I left Fort Benton two Saturdays ago around 6pm and paddled for aboutan hour or so before pulling over at a remote campsite.  Had a fire, skipped some rocks, called it a night.

The next day we paddled to the next campground where we saw the same host we met two weeks prior.  Man was he shocked to see us again.  A group of boyscouts (troop 9 based out of Billings MT) was just packing up  and getting ready for a 4 night trip down that section of the river.  We paddled with them for awhile before pulling ahead to do some hiking and eventually met up with them at the campsite right by Eagle Creek. 

The next morning Tom and I hiked to Neat Coulee and made it back just in time for a storm to hit us while we rested in our tents.  We paddled a wopping 6 miles that day to “hole in the wall” and packed our gear up to camp right on top of it.  It was windy at the top and impossible to put stakes in the rock so we lined the inside corners of our tent with some rocks to hold it down while we hiked around.  That night we flipped a coin and Tom was picked to hike 30 minutes down the next morning to get some more water and food from our kayaks (which really turned out to be fair because the first time we hiked up I went down to take a photo of him and had to hike back up so he could take one of me ha ha).  After we explored for a few hours in the morning (we found 9 “hole in the walls”) we met some tour guides who were setting up camp by our kayaks waiting for the other guides and group of 12 to come.  They gave us some leftover breakfast food from the morning and we had lunch and talked for awhile.

All in all I do not regret one bit going back to Fort Benton to do that stretch again.  We hiked almost every white cliff, and I say that with very little exaggeration.  When we finished our 150 mile stretch to the final campsite we had been without water for about 3 hours (realistacally I can filter it from the river, but I want to save that for emergencies only on this trip if possible).

Tom said from the beginning he did not want paddle across Fort Peck lake again and that he was going to try to find a ride.  So on Thursday at 6pm we parted ways. 

Within the first 2 hours of leaving Tom I saw 6 Elk (the first Elk of the trip haha) and had 4 beavers come within 10 feet of my kayak before slapping the water and diving underneath.  I contimplated pulling over several times but kept pushing on until I found possibly the most remote boat ramp ever with a few tents up ahead.  When I pulled up I was greeted by two guys (Eric and Gordon), their two sons each and Erics father.  They were on their 3^rd and final night camping and fed me catfish they had caught earlier that day as well as white chocolate fudge, a plum and a few cups of milk.  Fortunately Gordon had purchased a screened in tent for us to find shelter from the mosiquotos underneath otherwise we would have been eaten alive.  We roasted marshmellows by the fire that night and said goodbye to each other.

I was on the river before 5am the next morning.  I stopped a few times to explore, eat, and stretch.  Around 330 I was so hot I decided to pitch a tent and try to take a quick nap.  The bottom zipper of my tent broke, but I was so tired and fatigued I did not care at the moment and fell asleep face down without my airmatress or anything.  15 minutes later I woke up completely soaked in sweat and gasping for breath, the tent had turned into an oven and I was baking in it.  When I got out the slightest breeze immediately gave me the shivers after being completely wet.  Mad at the world, I packed my gear up and paddled for another 3 hours before pulling over to camp by some cows and antelope.  A storm was rolling in so I took the time in the tent to sew the bottom zipper shut.

I didn’t see anyone at all the next day either.  Eventually I foun a 300sq ft island and set up camp right before sunset.  I thought I would not have to worry about animals that night but I was way off….around 230am I heard scratching on the side of my tent.  At first I convinced myself I was just being paranoid and to go back to sleep, but it continued.  Eventually I shined my light against the wall and I could see 6 mice trying to get in, though I did not have any food in the tent.  I lined up my shoes against the sewn together zipper to block them from entering, knowing that all they had to do was bite a small string and they would have a huge gap.  Eventually, I could hear them scratching my shoes so at 315am I decided to pack up camp and paddled across Peck in the full moon.  It was amazing.  I reached the Marina around 1pm Sunday, just under 3 days.

While at the bar I had several fisherman commetn on my paddling speed and buy me a few beers.  Today the owner of the marina asked me to test drive her car into town (it had been overheating), so here I am at the library right now.  Tom will be around 140 miles ahead by the time I get back on the river tomorrow.  I’ll probably catch him in a week or so.  He texted me and told me to wear a skirt in certain areas whre there are rapids. 

Life is great.

I’ll upload photos and send photos later as well as add videos on facebook.

“A man who wastes a hour of his life, has yet to learn the value of it.” – Darwin

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

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

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 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

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