On The Wide Missouri

I am at Triple Creek Ranch in Darby, Montana soaking up the luxury after three days and nights on the Missouri River retracing the route of Lewis and Clark in a big red raft with Bob and Jane, Michelle and Kevin and Elliott.

This has truly been one of the most amazing trips of my life. We started out on a glorious sunny day, literally all alone on the river, with our guide and helmsman Bob. I felt like Huck Finn paddling down the middle of America, in the middle of nowhere, through a fresh and beautiful landscape I had never experienced before. The river was incredibly high and muddy and fast moving. Any anxiety I felt before hand was instantly allayed by the sensation of being on the river away from it all.

That night we camped on the bank of the river, tried to fish but nothing was catching and went to bed after dinner anticipating another day of easy paddling. Some time after midnight the heavens opened accompanied by major thunder and lightning. I was too dumb to be scared. I was more worried about stepping on a rattlesnake if I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

In the morning I found my tent flooded and the rain dripping on my face. The day was damp and cold and soggy, perfect for poker. Later in the afternoon, it eventually cleared enough for us to take a spectacular hike through a slot canyon that has us scrambling over and under rocks as well as sloshing through water and serious mud for almost three hours since the normal route had washed out.

Next day we hit the river again in our rain gear and extra layers and battled 35 mph head winds and two foot waves. Upper body got a serious workout! By lunch time the weather had cleared although the wind persisted to roar. We put in for lunch and hiked up through the sandstone rocks to “Hole in the Wall”, shimmying up and down a chute to the highest point like geriatric gazelles. Never have peanut butter and jelly tasted so good. Back down to the river and our raft, we battled the wind in our faces until we made camp for the night.

The next day, not surprisingly, was cold and wet but we had 20 miles to go until our landing. For once we didn’t have to fight a head wind. The river was smooth and spread out. It felt powerful to be on it. Like the seasoned and hardy paddlers we had become, we pulled and pulled, laughing and singing all the way, and make the landing in record time. Not surprising, we learned the next day that the Missouri was now closed to all river traffic given the severe conditions.

How to describe the sensation of spending three days on the river, seeing no one at all, passing through a desolate wilderness that seemed unchanged since the time of Lewis and Clark. Spotting bald eagles soaring above us in the sky or perched on a nest in a cottonwood tree guarding their babies. Watching antelopes and deer with their fawns gamble through the hills. Staring in awe at massive sandstone cliffs that looked like the ruins of ancient buildings and sacred spaces. Feeling the power of wind and water and the movement of the earth through the ages.

I kept thinking how lucky I was to be here now. How there must be so many other beautiful places in the United States that I have never seen. How grand and how diverse this country is in its scenery and its population. No wonder it is so difficult to govern.