The Shadow of The Missouri

Stubborness? Definitely has something to do with why we're out here, beating our heads against an unrelenting headwind, driving through crashing waves. Sure, stubborness is part of it. An unwillingness to give, a refusal to relent, an indomitable desire to beat the wind, to be stronger than the wind. But there's more to it than that. There's the urge for going, the natural urge for a river to flow and our desire to be a part of it. And the desire to put beyond us the barrier between us and the natural flow. To get beyond the dam. There's also the practical side of things. Wind on a water this big can blow for days, a week or more maybe, and at some point action is a necessity to life.

We rode a tailwind the first day on the lake. Set up a campchair for a sail and skipped along at 5 MPH, surfing three foot waves and crashing through a maze of half submerged junipers on the strength of the wind. It's been five days across the lake, defined by paddling from point to point, often across big, open water, sometimes flat, often not, churned up by wind driven waves.

We steadily paddle passed fisherman in small boats, most of whom offer a slight wave of the hand, some a bit of conversation. Those that speak, that ask how far we're going offer the inevitable, "Have fun!" We awkwardly answer in some vague affirmative, not having the time or the inclination or the energy perhaps to explain... very little of this is fun.

Paddling into a driving wind, grueling out 2 miles an hour is not fun, crossing an open bay fighting a cross channel side wind taking huge waves against the side of the canoe the closest shore over a mile distant is not fun. Watching the channel disappear into a windrow of half submerged trees, picking a gap beyond which water can be seen and relying on the wind to send you crashing through is both exhilirating and terrifying but it's only fun in the recollecting once you are safely drinking a Keystone Light on shore.

We aren't out here for a pleasure cruise. We're out here to join the river on it's seaward path. To take our part in a conversation that spans millenia. It is rewarding and it is humbling. And every evening we sit back and reflect on accomplishments attained through physical labor and mental strength. Reflections made in the shadow of the might of the Missouri.