Speed: 1-2 mph
Miles: 18
Time: 6:45 am to 2:44 pm
Campsite location: https://www.google.com/maps/place/47%C2%B059'43.8%22N+106%C2%B029'19.1%22W/@47.9955,-106.48863,12z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x0:0x0?hl=en
The front of it is hiding in the tree branches--it's a long boat, 18 feet!
John's location: http://fms.ws/HP0rD/47.99550N/106.48863W. The hotel in Fort Peck is booked, so he is camping at the marina campground tonight. Ellen
That was the toughest and most dangerous day I have ever had in the kayak.The lake kicked my butt throughout the18 mile day. The day started early with calm conditions. Minutes after launching, the ripples started. Then the chop. Waves soon followed. After crossing the first bay and arriving at Fourth Ridge, I found a spot on the second spit to rest and remove the water from the front compartment. By the time I started across the next bay there were whitecaps moving from the NW. I struggled with progress. Skunk Coulee Bay had 2-3 foot waves and I was moving parallel with them. It was scary, but the Nighthawk bobbed up and down with the waves. I had to concentrate so I could brace if a rogue wave hit me.
I finally made it across the bay and rested in a swampy area among the ducks and geese and their droppings. Again, I emptied the front compartment, ate, drank water, and rested and wished I had some of Ellen's SecondSurge to spike my energy level. Hoping the wind would die down, I sat in the cockpit and waited. Duck Creek Bay is the widest and the next to the last crossing. Where I was sitting the wind continued but out in the bay the white caps appeared to decreased. I went for it. Mid-way the bay blew up. I looked to my left at a progress point and noticed I was not moving forward. Shit. I increased my strokes and turned the kayak slightly to the right hoping the wind would push me. It did. Slightly. The kayak continued to move slowly across the bay and also dangerously out into more open water. The waves were breaking over the kayak's cockpit and my spray skirt was not keeping me dry. They were now 3'-4' waves that were breaking across the deck.
I believe the bay is 2.7 miles wide and it was the toughest mental and physical test I have ever encountered. There were two fishingnboats close to the opposite shore and I turned toward them putting me parallel with the waves again. By the time I got close to the boats, they had left for the Marina. Finally, I made it across and found a rest site. I was tired, wet, cold, and frightened by the entire day's experience. After bailing out the front compartment and the cockpit, I ate, drank, and rested for the remaining three shorter crossings. None compared to the last one. They seemed protected from the wind by the closeness of the hills.
I finally made it to Fort Peck Marina and portaged my kayak and gear to their bar to change my clothes and have a beer. There was a party of six on the covered porch of the bar. None said a word to me. Two fishermen bought me a beer and shook my hand as they told me they were in one of the bays and had watched my crossing in case I needed help. I simply said, "I appreciate that." The last day on the lake was a humbling experience.The winds today were the strongest of the trip. The conditions on the water were the worst yet. I was so very glad to be off the lake. The lake is behind me. I slept well as it rained all night and the strong winds continued through the morning hours.
I finally made it across the bay and rested in a swampy area among the ducks and geese and their droppings. Again, I emptied the front compartment, ate, drank water, and rested and wished I had some of Ellen's SecondSurge to spike my energy level. Hoping the wind would die down, I sat in the cockpit and waited. Duck Creek Bay is the widest and the next to the last crossing. Where I was sitting the wind continued but out in the bay the white caps appeared to decreased. I went for it. Mid-way the bay blew up. I looked to my left at a progress point and noticed I was not moving forward. Shit. I increased my strokes and turned the kayak slightly to the right hoping the wind would push me. It did. Slightly. The kayak continued to move slowly across the bay and also dangerously out into more open water. The waves were breaking over the kayak's cockpit and my spray skirt was not keeping me dry. They were now 3'-4' waves that were breaking across the deck.
I believe the bay is 2.7 miles wide and it was the toughest mental and physical test I have ever encountered. There were two fishingnboats close to the opposite shore and I turned toward them putting me parallel with the waves again. By the time I got close to the boats, they had left for the Marina. Finally, I made it across and found a rest site. I was tired, wet, cold, and frightened by the entire day's experience. After bailing out the front compartment and the cockpit, I ate, drank, and rested for the remaining three shorter crossings. None compared to the last one. They seemed protected from the wind by the closeness of the hills.
I finally made it to Fort Peck Marina and portaged my kayak and gear to their bar to change my clothes and have a beer. There was a party of six on the covered porch of the bar. None said a word to me. Two fishermen bought me a beer and shook my hand as they told me they were in one of the bays and had watched my crossing in case I needed help. I simply said, "I appreciate that." The last day on the lake was a humbling experience.The winds today were the strongest of the trip. The conditions on the water were the worst yet. I was so very glad to be off the lake. The lake is behind me. I slept well as it rained all night and the strong winds continued through the morning hours.
When I got home I looked at the weather almanac for Fort Peck (actually, it was for Glassgow) to see what the wind direction and speed was for June 14. According to one site it was a west wind and the speed was from 11 mph to 28 mph. Another site had the average wind speed at 39 mph with 50 mph gusts. I am happy for not be a statistic.
Shannon, the manager of the marina, gave me a space for the tent Saturday night. Christina and Rachel (above), who work at the marina's bar entertained me with their life stories as I drank Pepsi until closing hour.
I must have smelled bad having no shower since Fort Benton.
Two fishermen bought me a beer and told me they had their eyes on
me while I made one crossing. The beer never tasted so good.
A changed of clothing and rest seem to perk me up.
My home Saturday night was under a tree and a few steps from the bar.
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