Excerpt

Chapter 8

On Longer Trips

Longer C/K trips, lasting more than 3 days, usually require some interpersonal adjustment. One adjustment involves setting the pace of travel. If initially too high, some burn-out may occur.

In a single canoe with two persons, probably the stern paddler usually sets the pace. If you find yourself in the bow, you might wonder: Am I paddling fast enough?

You might be in one canoe with two stronger paddlers in another craft–so they set the pace and flush animals before you’ve had the opportunity to see them. Should you tell them that you cannot maintain their pace?

With two or more tandem craft, the strongest pair sets the pace, and will likely, too, flush animals before others can observe them. Should you or your partner–if weaker paddlers–inform the strongest that you’d like to share their experiences up-front?

Three of my longer trips illustrate how experiences relate to trip duration. The 6-day Missouri River trip (54), in mid- to late May, extended from Ft. Benton to where U.S. 191 crosses the river south of Landusky. Over a 150-mile stretch, the Missouri classifies as a National Wild and Scenic River.

This journey I took with Dale, a geology associate. Because we paddled in his canoe, I yielded to his priority over our decisions. To his credit, though, he suggested we switch positions in the canoe often, which I favored.

River level stood high with barely noticeable rapids. A swift current produced a paddling rate of 6.2 to 8.6 mph that averaged 6.9 mph. We attributed a common hissing sound to suspended sand grains in the highly turbulent water abrading the bottom of the canoe.

Accurate maps published by the Missouri River Commission in 1893 showed relatively little change in the river’s channel over a period of 170 years. We found plots of Lewis & Clark campsites of special interest. Those campsites, dated May 26 to June 12, 1805, downstream to upstream, encompassed the distance of our trip. The expedition passed through our stretch of the river roughly 1 to 3 weeks in the spring after us.

Canada geese in wake

The White Cliffs Area below Coal Banks Landing and above the mouth of Arrow Creek proved most scenic. Whitish sandstone contrasted with black lignite coal in the cut banks and cliffs.

Most conspicuous wildlife included the larger birds: Canada geese, great blue herons, pelicans, and cormorants. Canada geese we saw every day on bars or islands. On the second day we spotted seven yellowish young accompanied by three adult birds.

At the May 23, 1805 campsite, 6 miles below our take-out, Lewis wrote: “The Gees [sic] begin to lose the feathers of their wings and are unable to fly.” At the expedition’s May 26 campsite, about a mile below our camp 5, Clark wrote: “I saw . . . Geese of the common size & kind and a Small Species of geese, which differs considerably from the Common or Canadian Goose . . .” And, on June 12, about 6 miles below Ft. Benton, two other goose-related comments: Ordway wrote: “Saw . . . Geese & Goslings . . .” and Whitehouse said: “. . . in the River large flocks of Geese . . .” We felt good knowing, that 170 years after the expedition passed through here, Canada geese continued to propagate their kind along the river.

The first day below Ft. Benton, we discovered two great blue heron rookeries or nesting grounds, their nests in the upper parts of tall cottonwoods. A mile below the mouth of the Judith River, we marveled at another rookery in huge cottonwoods. I looked up at the impressive trees at camp and remarked: “Think of the weight. I worry about one of those cottonwoods coming down on us.”

“Don’t worry. These trees never come down,” Dale assured me.

That night a loud crash awakened me in my pup tent as a cottonwood struck the ground.

Pelicans didn’t appear until the fifth day, at the downstream end of Council Island, 3 ½ river miles below the mouth of the Judith River. Was this first sighting related to food availability?

Cormorants we observed throughout the trip, but never common.

I reveled in the calls of pheasants, geese, mourning doves, blackbirds, woodpeckers, owls, and other birds while in my pup tent in the morning or at night. No human sounds, just those of wildlife.

The final full day, I felt rushed and exhausted from paddling, and would’ve preferred camping a few miles above the take-out at the U.S. Highway 191 bridge. But Dale pressed hard, believing the canoe outfitter at Ft. Benton would bring his vehicle that day. But Dale’s vehicle didn’t arrive until the following day.

Paddlefish.

The extra wait, however, provided a bonus. Fishermen near the bridge caught two paddlefish, one estimated at 4 ½ feet long and weighing 50 pounds, the other somewhat smaller. Also called “spoonbill catfish,” paddlefish have a paddle-shaped snout that some believe serves as an antenna to detect water currents and bottom terrain. This odd snout, a skeleton of cartilage instead of bone, and scaleless skin suggest creatures from the prehistoric past. Paddlefish draw in large volumes of water to strain microscopic organisms for food. As a result, fishermen can’t use bait or lures, but must snag the fish with large hooks.

Application to Life: Setting the paddle pace can be likened to dating. The male usually sets the pace of a relationship. If too rapid, the female may feel squeezed. If too slow, the female suspects the male’s disinterest. If the female attempts to set the pace, the male feels he’s lost control.

Establishing musical pace may also threaten or disturb–let’s say players of acoustical stringed instruments. Young players prefer rapid play speed–to demonstrate that they are able. Older players desire play at slower tempos, because speed diminishes with age, and slower play enhances their sound quality. As conflict grows, young players split off into their own fast-pace groups. So the rate at which you paddle or pick your guitar determines how you place in a stream or on the stage.