28APRIL2010 - I awoke shortly after daybreak and, not being able to ascertain the conditions from my sunken bed position, emerged and saw that there was still a wind from the east and still threatening rain. I got back in bed for maybe an half hour when I perceived an eerie silence. Emerging once again it was still cloudy but totally calm. Well, forget the possibility of rain, the thrust now is to go. So I did and was proceeding east at a steady though unspectacular pace. I passed several pennensula points, many islands, saw ducks and geese, and bore down on a pine forested pennensula. Sure enough it was the location of The Pines Recreation Area to which I paddled in. There Pete Langen met my canoe, took me to his house and gifted me with a Diet Coke ... wonderful explosion of flavor, me having been without since Great Falls. I also replenished my drinking water. A bit later, after meeting brother Eric Langen I was at a computer looking at weather.com. Weather.com told me that a SW wind of 15-25 MPH would begin around 3PM. Now SW is good because my travel direction is - after another pennensula - NE, but 15-25 is a bit stiff. It being 1120 at the moment I was viewing the screen, I curt short the visit and was back on the water fairly soon. I rounded The Pines pennensula and paddled across to and beyond pennensula #3 still with no wind. At that point I was headed almost directly NE and the SW wind hit with almost immediate full force. It felt like far more than 15 MPH and even more than 25 (later I learned it hit 45MPH sometime during Wednesday in Fort Peck). Suffice it to say that I was disgusted. I also was a small bit fearful, me being still so close to pennensula #3. Though only about 100 yards from pennensula 3, I concluded that getting back against the wind would be difficult if not impossible and that, by failing to get back I would face the crossing to pennensula #2 already tired, I took off hard for pennensula #2. A full 850 paddle strokes later I was behind the protective 1st spit of land sticking off pennensula #2 and feeling pretty good. It was a hairy crossing and I was not having fun, but before me was fairly calm water. Around pennensula #2 the route turned a bit more northerly and between #2 and #1 was essentaially directly north, so the SW wind, though still a noticeable problem, was not creating meaningful waves. Once arounding pennensula #1 I was staring across Duck Creek at Fort Peck ... houses and water tank very visible. The wind having slackened noticeably, I made for what I call Tern Island, about a mile of the way across. Before I got there - about halfway - here came the wind again. That quarter mile before tucking behind tern island were entertaining, yet scary only from watching large numbers of terns flying toward me and me not being anble to get Alfred Hitccock's "The Birds" out of my mind.
Behind Tern Island I made a mistake. From the sheltered leeward side I should have gone ashore, climbed the small hill and planned my route across the final half mile. Had I done that I would have made straight for Fort Peck and been there in half an hour, maybe a few minutes faster. But no, I went west across the 150 passage between Tern Island and the contenent ... and in that 150 foot passage the wind and waves took over and sent me crashing onto the north shore of Little Duck Creek Bay. Happy to be closer to Ft Peck, I secured my gear, climbed a hill and saw my mistake. Walking to Ft Peck meant walking about 2 miles west before I could turn north and walk those two miles back again and then proceed two more miles into Ft Peck. The other choice was to paddle into the wind only 100-150 yards, around a point and into a bay on which were positioned several houses. That would still not be the Ft Peck Marina, but would be so much easier than the extensive walk I was looking at. So I did it. Paddling 100 yards into that wind was difficult but I did it in maybe 15 minutes, rounded the point and then made my second mistake. Rather than hug the windward side and proceed north a sensible distance, I made directly for an intermediate spit of land still several hundred yards from the shore on which the houses sat. Indeed I got behind that spit, but not close behind, and so the benefit - though real - was not meaningful as fregards to my getting a rest break nor to my opportunity to bail a bit. Yes, yes, yes ... in making these two mistakes I was taking in meaningful water and a bailing break was somewhat needed. Too bad, no time for that. Thanking God for getting me into slightly milder water, I turned straight downwind now and straight toward the homes on "Millionaire Mile" I took in several sizeable anmounts of water but by this time was out of the danger of not getting ashore. I hit the shore and was blessed by there being a half-inch-and-flat gravel beach. The canoe was 20 feet out of the water in seconds. I was still dry on my chest, shoulders, arms, neck and head, but as wet as could be farther down.
Selecting the necessities for the night I made it up the hill and began walking toward Ft Peck. I saw seven Mule Deer in a yard before I stopped a vehicle driven by Andrea Dobbs. She told me the distance to a hotel then graciously offered a ride. Perfect - and possibly necessary as the closest hotel was not yet open for the summer. The 2nd place - The Lakeridge Motel - was open and welcoming. Arriving at about 6PM, by 730 I was showered, dressed in dry trousers and across the road at the Gateway ordering a fine supper of Walleye, Cole Slaw, French Fried Potatoes and Corona Beer. A wonderful ending to a memorable day, a day in which I survived two mistakes, a day in which God eschewed several chances to take me home. I received my meal, bowed my head and gave one of the most thoughtful thanks with which I have ever been associated.