29MAY2011 near Mission Ridge, SD - At 0630 I was enjoying coffee with George, small talk about breakfast wedging it's way in, when a boat-pulling rig appeared. Two young sportsmen, aged 14 and 13 (14 & 13 ... driving .. for real) took me to the ramp, boated me to the canoe and pushed me off. What a wonderful way to start the day ... and then it got "poor" ... then it got better ... then worse ... and finally wonderful again. The poor part was getting rained on while failing to find a portage route, the better was the fascinating paddle around the north end of the Little Bend, the worse was crossing two bays fighting whitecap winds and the wonderful was my arrival at and treatment at Pike's Haven.
Rain is indeed a dampening agent, dampening clothes as spirit equally ... adding bailables to the canoe ... adding slipperiness to the banks thus adding to the slippery mess on shoes. Such was the result of the rain that dumped on me early in this day. After crossing Baker Bay I stepped out in the next bay and found the old-map-indicated road that proceeded west. Too much overgrowth renders it now unusable; maps should no longer show it. A mile or so farther on vehicles were seen at the top of the ridge. I walked/mucked my way up there and located the best possible place to attempt a portage. It looked like maybe 250 yards up a gulch that was well grassed/shrubbed. My plan is to pull an empty canoe up the gulch, sliding over the wet and slick greenery. Fun? Well, no ... but it's only 250 yards, after which I could either wheel on down to the west side and push off again or wheel south a few miles on the road to Pike's Haven. So I paddled on and missed the spot to beach and begin the portage. Not only did I miss it, I missed it by 1/4 mile ... 1/4 mile beyond the magic spot. Three strikes is an out, so I chose to paddle around the Little Beend. Paddling around with no wind and reduced rain - more a drizzle - seemed far more desireable than struggling with wet, muddy shoes up a portage that could easily have a complication or four. "Git er done" I say. Well rounding the Little Bend was a delight. After an initial long open water crossing to a pennensula point at mile 1117, shorter criossings began clipping by and at each point the left turn was significant ... fascinating how such rapid turning thrills a paddler who is accustomed to slow progress. Almost before I could believe I was seeing motor boats crossing over and boating up the Cheyenne River, the indication that I was around the bend. When I had line-of-sight to the boat dock, an east wind began and by the time I was closer it was generating occasional whitecaps. That's right, yet another bay demanding exertion. Nevertheless, at 1330 I was at the boat ramp and only three miles from Pike's Haven. The main obstacle to getting there was another bay crossing with whitecaps again striking the canoe from the side. Now the wind speed has increased and whitecaps are more serious. In 628 strokes I was across this bay and in the wind shadow of the highhills. The remaiing distance to Pike's Haven was simply a formality of closing the distance.
Pike's haven is a different sort of Lake Oahe place. For starters it is right on the water front, not a long distance to walk. Second it has a boat ramp that is tight, owing to the full lake and associated waves washing up and rearranging the shale/mud. Third it has buildings and RVs seemingly stacked on top of each other as they are arrayed against the side of the hillside. I tied in at the edge of the boat ramp and walked/slid up the hill to the store/office/restaurant building. John Miller had not been informed that I was on my way, yet he completely grasped the reality that as a paddler I was not capable of doing anything other than stay at least one night. He found a fine room (actually more than a room) and worked out a wonderful deal and I was in. Wonderful to spread out my gear and - as was done just two days ago - get it all dry. In short order I was showered, freshly clothed and sitting at the truly gourmet restaurant. In his 2005 book David L. Miller writes "The restaurant advertises that it has "the best steak on the river." They got that right - I was served one of the best steaks that I have ever tasted. Order the rib eye." As suggested, I ordered the rib eye. It was one of the best steaks that I have ever tasted. It was delivered by one of the most fetchingly attractive ladies in the world ... it doesn't get any (well, much anyway) better than this.
As sleep completes my day I am content knowing that I am at river mile 1104, only 32 miles to the dam.