LEWIS & CLARK TREK

Sam came up from from Portland Thursday evening and stayed over at our place.

Friday August 15, 2003

7:18  Sam and I leave Federal Way headed up highway 18 to North Bend then east on I-90.

11:08 Amber grooves of stubble.  This refers to the fact that we are passing through Palouse Country after the harvest had been gathered in and no amber waves of grain are left.  At about this time we passed a graveyard in the field close to the road and the thought occurred to me that they might be 'Amber Graves of Wayne'.

2:27 Cloudy and 107 degrees F the road is being resurfaced between Lewiston and Orofino.  Lots of L&C trail signs.  Through Lenore more fires.  Stopped by the side of the Clearwater for a break and Sam took a photo of me by the side of one of the rapids over which I will be flowing on the return trip.

Brooks Motor Inn, Missoula 7:30, we rode around and thru town then back to the Motel. Ate dinner at Jakers, recommended by Jake at the desk of the motel. Smoke all the way to Missoula from Orofino. Saw helicopter fire bucket refilling in the river. Several fire camps along in the Lolo area with acres of tents and fire equipment.

August 16, 7:30 am

Left Missoula headed out towards Fort Benton. Discovered that I had left my cell phone at the motel after we were about 1½ hours out. We pulled over and Sam used his cell phone to call the motel and ask them to hold on to it, he’d pick it up on the way back. Got to Fort Benton and went into the Visitors Information Center to ask for Ruth or Muncie who Val and I had spoken to last time through. Neither was there. The lady told me that Muncie lived in a big stone house just up the street on the corner of Main Street. We stopped by but she was out and her partner said she would be upset to miss us and to stop by on my way back.

Long drive through Havre to Glasgow where we got a room at ‘La Casa” then went down to the nearby Fort Peck Marina. The lake level was way low and we talked to Dave Waterson, owner of the marina, about lake conditions. Lake level is 40 ft down and the western reaches of the lake are impassable mud flats. No paved roads out of the lake and few landings available. No water or other services. Doesn’t look good for lake travel. This means much more road work than anticipated, not good in this hot weather over 100 deg F yesterday, supposed to be upper 90s today.

Sunday 8-17-03

We were ready to leave and we couldn’t find the motel key. Looked everywhere, turned the beds out and all the suitcases etc. Not there. Sam said he didn’t want to pay a lost key fee. I took the washed dinner plates and cutlery back to the office (we had borrowed them last night) and said we had lost the key. The owner said no, I had left it on the counter when I picked up the plates last night! Duh!

We headed out about 8:30 am east on Hwy 2, stopped at Culbertson for breakfast at the Wild West Diner. Much better food than the last place we stopped at where I left my burned omelet half eaten. We headed east for the N. Dakota border and Fort Buford.

We had gone too far up Hwy 2 and missed the turn off and had to go back to Gainsville then south. We came upon Fort Union first and a sign said Fort Buford 15 miles. I did not remember coming at Ft. Buford from the west, as the previous time out with Val we had come from the east. Finally, after reentering the road we covered the 15 dirt road miles and found the right entry point that I remembered.

The boat landing and parking were as I remembered but there was an elaborate new visitor center building built especially for the bicentennial. We went down to the ramp and I had a sinking feeling as I saw the low level of the river, the sandbars up the river and the swift sideways flow at the foot of the ramp. Sam suggested I take a test paddle in the empty kayak to see if I could power up river against the current. I loaded it up with the water jug and put on my life jacket and pushed off into the current. I paddled straight across to the other side to see Sam slightly upstream. I turned a 180 and paddled back to where Sam was standing on the ramp, pointing the kayak about 25 deg upstream and paddling hard into the wind. I could make no progress upstream, only across. Right then I decided that it would be very difficult to make any distance each day. Even if I reached Fort Peck I could not kayak the lake, I would have to bike 100s of miles to get around it. Not my idea of a fun portage. Had to make a new plan. Come back and do it earlier in the year. Come with a support person on the road and to film the progress.

Modified plan for this trip was to drive back to Missoula, get my cell phone, proceed to the Clearwater River and make it from there. 5:10 we are 30 miles out from Lewiston MT and 2 hours from Great Falls. Coming into GF the river looks full and slow because we are above the falls. Found a cheap $45 motel that was clean on the West side of town off Hwy 200. This will work for tonight. Go to Missoula in the am. Sam went out to DQ to get 2 PNBPs, Wow good! Air conditioning made some weird sounds in the night.

Monday August 18

We left for Missoula around 7:20; everything went fine. Picked up my cell phone and called Val, Left message. We got going to Missoula on 200W and stopped for breakfast, real good. Headed for Lolo and putting in the kayak. Crossed the Idaho border and started the long down hill run but decided not to do it on the bike.

This was supposed to be a kayak trip. Followed the Lochsa down to where it met the Selway and became the Clearwater. Looked for a place to put in and after 6 or so picked one out and unloaded the kayak and gear. Sam helped me take it to the beach. Took about ½ hour to shove off and Sam took some photos of me then drove off about 2:30.

I paddled ’til about 6:00 only having to portage once when I picked the shallow side in the rough water. I’ve found it best to go with the most flow, even if that is white water. Often the calm looking areas are too shallow. I bottomed out several times and got stuck a couple where I had to pole out with the paddle. It’s 6:30 and I’m on a sand bank with tent pitched and kayak secured, I’m ready to bed down. The sun is going down and it’s still quite warm. The only sound I hear is an electric pump on the other side of the river. If I could sleep in the motel with the air conditioner cycling then this will be OK. 

Man in a canoe with a couple of kids fishing just drifts by. Make myself some hot tea and a snack and read up on my CB radio. Get no signals at all. No cell phone either. I notice big bovine footprints in the sand around my camp, so cows must come this way sometime. It’s now 7:00 and still light so could have stayed on the river a little longer. Will remember that tomorrow. On this trip I’m determined to write about my feelings. I’ve got lots of feelings about the aborted part of this trip. Disappointment! I feel I should have had more planning about river conditions prior to my trip. On the Willamette trip I got super river information from the Willamette Riverkeeper, which included maps with everything on. Couldn’t find anything like that for the Missouri going thru MT.]

Will have to check it out and maybe start a Missouri River Keeper. The guy Dave who owned the Marina at Ft. Peck Lake told me more than I needed to know; that the lake was not passable. Even if I had gone part of the way to the other marina I would have had to leave by bike and go 45 miles up a gravel road for another extended road trip all the way around the lake. Not a good idea. Alternatively I could have risked paddling to the end of the lake, found a channel thru the mud flats, or got stuck, or have to turn around and come back after paddling 5 or 6 days that would put me back at Ft. Peck after 10 – 12 days with nowhere to go.

I decided then to look at the river at Ft. Buford where I was scheduled to start the trek. When I saw the low water and swift current there I knew it would take me several days upriver to get back to Ft. Peck, then have nowhere to go again. This essentially scuttled the Montana portion of the trip and I decided to make the best of a bad deal and head for the Idaho portion. At least I knew there was water there because we had seen it on the way up. I guess was had a highly successful failure. No one was hurt or lost. After all I was supposed to be doing this for fun, right? Tomorrow I’ll get and early start and maybe reach some civilization.

Had a restful night of semi-sleep awakened only by the trucks passing along the highway on the opposite side of the river. As they came around the bend their lights would illuminate the tent. The sloping site I had made on the beach sand was not quite level enough for a good sleeping position.

Tuesday, August 19^th, 2003

I was on the river by 7:00 after a cereal and hot tea breakfast. I made good time but the river was still unfriendly due to the shallow rapids with many rocks. The river appears as a series of steps with deep clear pools about ½ mile long, then a shallow rapid leading into the next pool. I must have ridden down about 20 or so of these difficult barriers, often getting stuck on rocks, then poling off with the paddle. I finally reached a bridge over the river and checked my bike map and it looked like a small town named Kooskia, the Highway was 12. There were houses and cabins dotted about the landscape. I stopped to talk to a guy under the bridge who was pumping water out of the river into a large plastic container on the back of his pickup. He pointed to the second river coming in from the left side, just beyond the bridge. It was the south fork of the Clearwater. I was on the middle fork, so now I was on the real Clearwater. I continued on and made good progress. The additional water in the river made a more pleasant travel. About 4 miles further I saw a woman and a young boy at a sandy beach so I paddled over to check my position. They said I was approaching Kamiah, where there was a bridge, a boat ramp and several stores. I found that to be true later and pulled up to the ramp, beached the kayak and walked up the ramp. I saw a portable toilet at the top of the ramp and used it. Then I walked up to the road level and saw a crown of people at a farmers market across the street. A woman who just moved here from Issaquah (Pickering?) suggested I go to the tire store, they are nice people and would let me use the phone. I went in and asked the guy behind the counter who just [pointed to the phone. I called Val to let her know all was OK. I walked back to the kayak and got some food and went to sit under the bridge in the shade for a little rest and snack before I took off again. Back at the water a woman walking a poodle talked to me as I pushed off. She wished me luck.

It seemed like I was making good time going through one rapid after another. The trick to getting thru was to watch to see where most of the water was going and go there. It had worked so far although I had scraped the bottom many times. I could feel the bottom flex as the rocks went under. I was about 5 miles upstream from Orofino and thru a rapid I took the wrong route and got stuck on a side wash of rocks. I could not move. I tried poling out with the paddle but I was stuck good. I had poled out successfully before but not this time. I gave one last push before having to get out of the kayak into the fast water about 3-4 inches deep over the very slippery rocks. Then “snap” went the paddle and it was all over. I know I was going to have to haul out and go the rest of the way by bike (BF to the rescue!). I got out and pulled the loaded kayak up on to some dry rocks and looked around. The highway 12 was along side the river but up about 30 ft and sloping about 60 deg with a rock and dirt face. Covered with bramble bushes. This was going to be the haul out nightmare (which I had often envisaged) and would put to the test my 100 ft rope and pulley system, which I had only used once before. I started to unload the kayak because I could not pull it far with no footing in the slippery rocks. I had a good 50 plus yard walk with each armload of stuff from the kayak to the bottom of the steep grade where it looked possible to haul out. I was getting tired at this point and was slipping and falling in the shallow water and this is where my cell phone and camera (in my life jacket pockets) got wet briefly. With the kayak empty I hauled it to the bottom of the slope and rigged up the pulley system. I climbed up the bank to the concrete road barrier and fixed one end of the rope around the cotter pin that hold the two concrete sections together. I then pulled on the other end and got the kayak moving up the steep slope. I got it all the way up to the top but I was so exhausted and shaking from exhaustion I could not get it over the concrete barrier. There were four guys in yellow hardhats who had been watching me go through all this. When they saw I was able to get out, they moved further upstream to do fire mop up, but I could still see them about 200 yards away. I blew my emergency whistle and beckoned to them for some assistance.

One guy started walking towards me. With his help we got the kayak over the concrete barrier on to the side of the road. He told me I should not be where I was because the road ahead was closed, as was the river, for safety during fire fighting. The road was closed due to the risk of falling rocks and trees and to allow access for fire personnel. The river was closed so the helicopters could fill their water buckets from the river. I said I had heard nothing to that effect and had seen no signs anywhere. He promised to call ahead to security, so they would let me pass when I had assembled the bike. I went back down the slope for about another dozen trips up and down the slope to retrieve all my gear. Just about the time I had finished my haul out another guy in a work truck with flashing light called down to me.  He had seen the kayak on the side of the road and stopped to l9ook over the edge and saw me scrambling up the slope with the last thing, my Bike Friday. He said I could not be there or use the road. Apparently several canoeists who were ahead of me on the river had been arrested and taken from the river by the sheriff. He offered to drive me into Orifino with all my gear in his truck. As there was no alternative I agreed. We started to load the truck, the kayak was way too long to fit so he put the front end up on top of the cab and tide it to the rack where the emergency light was mounted. Pretty soon another big truck with a snowplough on front approached and stopped and the guy got out and the two talked and then both helped me do the final load. Just as we got in the truck there was a flash of lightning, a crack of thunder and it started to pour with rain. We took a slow drive past the road crews and roadblocks into Orofino. The guy introduced himself; Rod Breen of the Idaho State Transportation Department, Orofino Shed. His buddy with the plough truck was Jim Reilly. They all stopped at one point to confer with another buddy, Steve Kaufman. We drove into Orofino and found a motel called the White Pine Motel and I checked for vacancies. The manager pointed me to unit 105 on the ground floor and he helped me put the kayak inside, it just fit. Rod Breen left and I thanked him again promising to feature him on my web site. This was the end of a long tiring day and possibly a trip-killing day with no paddle I could not proceed. I got in the motel room and made a collect call to Val. The cell phone registered good signal but would not work. It kept beeping at me until the battery ran out. I needed to get cleaned up and repaired. I was bleeding from 2 big toes and three fingers, plus I had bruises all over. The shower felt great and I was tough to clean. I shaved and made some hot tea in the coffee pot. I started to sort stuff out and clean it up. Everything was wet including my journal notepad. I lay down on the bed and turned out the light around 8:00 pm. I slept soundly tile about 3:15 am on Wednesday morning.

Wednesday, August 20, 2003 

I got up around 6:00 feeling pretty good for my travails yesterday. I made hot tea and had cereal with the magic milk that does not spoil. I watched the news on TV about the bombing of the UN in Baghdad. It seemed so far away and unimportant to me. I needed to get some clothes to the local cleaners, but some supplies then put my Bike Friday back together and ride around town to check everything, stores etc. and the river. My Bike Friday went together easily and I put on my neon jacket, helmet etc and rode off the cleaners, dropped off my stuff to pick up before 11:00, which was checkout time. I checked the yellow pages for boat dealers and all were in Lewiston or Clarkston which were 40 miles or so west. Rod Breen had said the north fork of the Clearwater River comes in a few miles downstream and I wanted to check that out. I peddled out of town, over the river bridge and turned west onto Hwy 12. Highway crews had grooved the asphalt in preparation for laying and new surface. This made a very rough ride on my bike and the orange cones had made the road narrower causing vehicles to pass me very close. Pedaling up a long slope I looked at the businesses along the highway and noticed a sports shop with fishing gear displayed in pictures. I biked over, walked in and met a young woman behind the counter and a guy my age in camo gear. I told them my story and need for a kayak paddle. The guy led me over to a corner of the store where there were many single paddles for canoes, but not a double paddle.  He said he had one at home he rarely used and would drive me there to get it. I jumped in his Dodge Caravan and we drove a short distance. We pulled up to his garage, he went in and brought out the double paddle, black plastic with a metal shaft, looked good to me. I made him aware of my troubles on the river and asked where the rapids ended and slacker water began. He drove me to a place called ‘Canoe Camp’, which was a historic site where Lewis and Clark spent time building canoes for their trip down the Clearwater River to the Snake River. He pointed out the Dworshak Dam and the Dworshak Fish Hatchery and the confluence of the North and Middle forks of the Clearwater. He said I should have no problems downstream of this point because there was more water than upstream. He also pointed out a road on the other side of the river, which I could use so as not to use the busy Hwy 12. He drove me back to the motel and I showed him all my gear in room 105 and I asked for his name and address and how much for the paddle. He said they only cost $25.00 so I gave him $25.00 and he seemed happy with that. We shook hands and he walked away then turned round and came back and said the road in front of the motel goes straight to the road along the river without going through town. He was thinking of me! He also said the owner of the sports store had just moved here form Monroe. Seems like everyone I meet is getting out of the Seattle area.

I handed in the key to the manager, he helped me get the kayak out of the room and I rigged it all up and connected it to the Bike Friday. As I pedaled out of the parking lot my gloves fell off the kayak and I stopped to pick them up. I rode up a short hill, down the other side to join up with the river road to the fish hatchery. The bike and trailer pulled well and the drivers gave me lots of room. I passed a fishing access ramp because I thought I had not gone far enough. Then I came to the hatchery and cycled a little way by and over a bridge where I could see the Dworshak Dam and the North fork of the Clearwater coming in to the Middle fork (which I had been on) so I knew the ramp I passed was the right one. I wheeled around and went back 1000 feet and down the ramp. I stopped about half way down because I did not want to block the ramp but needed a place to set up for kayaking without the trailer running down the ramp into the water. The BF trailer brake was not working! I pulled off the ramp into the sand and it stopped right there and I started to convert to he paddle mode. A rough looking character emerged from the reeds at the side of the river pulling a small aluminum boat which he said he used to cross the river ‘cos it was shorter than going around. He got in his boat and left just ahead of me. I pushed off about 2:30 once again into the ‘real’ Clearwater, now joined by the North fork, I should have plenty of water now everyone says. But unfortunately there were many more rapids, admittedly with more water, but scary nonetheless. It went on and on and on with the falls becoming less steep but heavier flowing. After several hours of paddling I called out to one of the highway workers holding a stop sign, to ask her where I was. She said I had passed Lenore and was approaching Myrtle. Typically I’m thinking about a campsite before 5:00 and then started searching. I did not want to be near the highway or fast water, both sound about the same at night. I turned down quite a few until I saw a spot with a shallow gravel beach on an island with a few small willow tress for shelter and camouflage. The river was swift here but not noisy. I pulled the kayak up on the rocks and started unpacking. I was dead beat and wanted to rest and make up the journal which was a day in arrears. I wrote until it was dark using my headlamp.

I got started at 5:30 am in the morning. I wanted to be on the river again at 7:00. Used my last package of magic milk and had a cereal breakfast. I was feeling pretty grungy even less than one day after leaving the motel. I was hoping for no more rapids but they kept coming. At 8:15 I saw my first Cormorant, indicating to me that I was getting hear slack water. At 8:30 I felt a touch of wind at my back and hoisted the sail and sailed between rapids for about an hour before the wind was gone.

I began to see a few fishermen in small boats for the first time, also indicating more water in the river. Later on I saw several of these boats pulling into a ramp with service building around it. I pulled in and went to the bathroom, filled my water container (now very low) and went to the store to get tea bags and sweetener. I got back in the kayak and paddled off. I could tell by the bridges where I was and crossed into Washington State about 12:30. It was warming up and the river now more like a lake with industry on both sides, mostly grain elevators. Now I wasn’t so sure I liked the slack water as it was heating up with the sun high and I had to paddle hard to get moving. I was concerned that the Snake River on my bike maps, left the bike trail and was not annotated in any way. I had no good information on the state of the river or services and any landings along it.

I approached a marina in Clarkston and saw a couple in a motor launch moored. I pulled alongside the “Breaktime” of Portland, OR and asked if they were familiar with the Snake River downstream. They said they had spent the last three days coming up from Portland and told me of the four dams and many landings and services along the stretch. They warned me that a kayak might not be allowed through the locks. He didn’t know for sure so he volunteered to go into the Marina office and check, since I was seated snuggly in my kayak. As I waited the sun was warming up and I was drinking lots of water, the skin on my arms was burning and I was hoping secretly that kayak were not allowed so I could go home! But he came back with an indefinite answer, given by the lockmaster, saying only the lockmaster can make a final assessment at the time I arrive. Another guy came up to chat and mentioned a large RV park about 5 miles down river would be a good place to stay overnight.

I paddled on slowly and the cloud cover increased making the tough going a little easier. I could see no sign of an RV park after almost 2 hours paddling. I called out to a passing boater to ask where it was and he pointed to a brown looking hill which he said was an island and the whole thing was a giant RV park. I paddled on and got close but saw no entrance or official looking building, just a sparse few RVs.

I called out to one of the RVers and they told me to paddle on to the bridge, which is the road entrance on the west side of the island. When approaching down river one sees the eastside, which is barren looking. I paddled around further and saw a swimming area, beached the kayak, asked people who pointed to a white fence and entry booth. I walked over and inquired about price and availability. A campsite was $23.50 per night and I reserved #4. I thought the price was steep but needed a shower and shave real bad. Checked everything out, not many people there, just a few RVs.

The story of the shower links here. 

On the way out from the shower I bought  $1.00 pop from the machine and called Val from the public phone. And then made camp. I talked to a few folks while writing my journal. Apparently this used to be a State run campground now operated privately due to budget cuts. I somehow don’t believe in these economics. Goose poop everywhere. The ice machine was locked up with a padlock. Got a good night’s sleep, trucks passing noisily like old WWII airplanes taking off. Heard lots of frogs all night, first in synch then out. Very hot in the tent, took T shirt off and put sweater on later, no sleeping back required.

Friday 8-22-03

Arose 5:30 and started breakfast. Picnic tables here are aluminum so everything is noisy and I tried to be quiet for the other folks. Had my first dried milk with cereal after mixing with water. Slight drops of rain and the overcast looks like it might burn off later. Barb and Mike the campground attendants stopped by at 6:00 am to wish me luck. Barb had taken my mail the night before to post on her way home. I broke camp, dug out my compass and paddled out under the access bridge and into unknown parts of the Snake River Canyon around 7:15 am.

Barb had given me a great map if the lower Snake River recreation area put out by the US Army Corps of engineers. It showed the river from Lewiston to the Ice Harbor dam near Pasco. This is what I needed to feel good about this part of the trip. From the scale of 6 miles to the inch it looked about 6 miles to the first place, Nisqually John Landing. Basic boat ramp, picnic tables and vault toilet.

I left NJL at 9:50 or about 2 1/2 hours for the 6 miles or a little better than 2 mph. On the map the next landing was Blyton Landing, looked a little further than 6 miles so I figures about 1:00 pm to be there. I got there about 20 minutes early because I did have a couple of sail times to speed me up. The lake here is just full of fish swimming on the surface and jumping out. They are bronze on top and multi-colored underneath, probably carp. They almost jump in the kayak; it’s like they are playing. I feel like coming back to fish and I’m not a fisherman. I notice the MV ‘Breaktime’ passing me on the way downstream but they do not respond to my wave.

As I approach Blyton Landing the water is full of green globules, must be some king of algae. I tried to get hold of some by scooping with my hand but it all disintegrates upon touching. It would be good to get to Wawawai Landing before dark because I need to comps to will try for that.

What the wind giveth, the wind taketh away. No sooner had I got out into mid channel a strong headwind began. Fighting it steadily making for the opposite side of the canyon, the leeward side, where I can see a small road bridge, which will provide some temporary shelter. It’s now 3:10 and I’m out of the wind but can’t stop here long, it’s just a culvert under the road. The water outside is moving south like a fast river in the opposite direction I want to go. The sun is trying to peek through. I hope the wind dies down soon; I’ll wait a half hour.

I waited about 20 minutes and the sun came out and the wind slacked a little. I know I could not stay here, no way to haul the kayak out or set up camp. I would press on even if I had to paddle until 6:00. The wind picked up again and I hugged the bank by the road just for protection, about 10 feet out. A couple of DOT tugs come by pushing huge grain barges and their wash almost pushed me into the rocks. The headwind allows almost no progress and my little yellow flag was flapping madly overhead. I was getting tired and really didn’t know how far I’d come. It was close to 5:00 and I saw a patch of low green ahead and hoped it might be Wawawai Landing, but when I got there it was not. I could see no other likely spots to haul out so I pulled in. Just a place the cars pull in off the road I guess. I got the kayak out of the water, and then it started to pour with rain. I unpacked the tent and ground sheet and quickly remove the loose debris from the most flat spot and set up camp. Really whacked my big toe on the left foot and it started to bleed all over stuff. Threw everything in the tent all wet and climbed in out of the rain.

I’m pretty well hidden from the road behind some rose hip type bushes, but I’m also closer to the road than I would like, although this road is not so much used, as Hwy 12 was last night. As I write to this point it’s 5:30 and a huge freight train goes by on the other side of the road. Nice neighborhood!  It’s 5:40 and the wind has died down again and it’s stopped raining. I’ll stay here and try to get to the dam in the morning (weather permitting), then stay at Boyer Park & Marina instead of Wawawai County park where I was headed today. There I can shower, shave and call Val and head out on Bryan Lake instead of the Lower Granite Lake on which I have been all this time since Lewiston.

Wednesday, 8-13-03

I was on the river by 6:30 am and the wind is still blowing in my face. I thought if I could forgo breakfast and paddle up to Wawawai Landing I could at least know where I was, get some breakfast and regroup. I made it there about 8:00 with the wind blowing so hard I cannot proceed. I’m at the cougar rowing sheds and everywhere is deserted. I’m sitting on the road (leeward) side of the shed trying to keep my stove alight to make tea. I have some cereal. Now in the hot sun but sheltered from the wind.

According to the map the road only goes about another mile north. I might bike up there to see what the Wawawai County Park looks like. Maybe there is a phone there. I walk back to the kayak with all the kitchen stuff and reload. I’ll wait to see if the wind stops or changes direction. I see a truck go by then pull into the landing parking lot. I wolk over to talk to the person, perhaps he is familiar with the area. It’s a husband and wife, locals, come down to kayak! They listen to my story and walk over to take a look at my rig. I give them a card. They say the road a few more yards and turns up over the ridge. The county Park is not on the water although there is a Ranger Station there, which might help with advice. Lemmon was the guy’s name and he says that he and his wife often walk along the RR track, which goes right up to the dam, which is about 3 more miles down river. He suggested that I tow the kayak in bike mode down the RR tracks, but I decline. He’d never seen any trains on this track but I’ve seen 2 in the last 2 days. Not a good idea.

By the time we parted they were questioning their own decision to kayak and the wind direction was changing in my favor. As I pulled out they were unloading their kayaks. I pointed my kayak in the direction of the dam and hoisted the sail. It filled immediately and started to tug me, alittle sideways, but in the general direction of the dam. After a few minutes I looked back but there were no signs of kayakers or a truck. They must have changed their minds. Not long after turning the bend ahead I could see the dam in the distance. I looked through my binoculars to see if there were any other boats waiting at the lock. I was too far away to make anything out. Right then the wind changed to dead ahead and I maintained a difficult paddle for 1 hour until I arrived at the sign which said “ Pull cord for lockmaster”, which I did. I voice advised me that the next scheduled downstream passage would be at 12:30 and it was now 11:30. I paddled over to a nearby landing naked Offield Landing on my map. I had a drink and snack and returned to the front of the lock at 12:15 and watched the upstream crowd of boats come out, but no others were going downstream so I had it all to myself.

I paddled out the bottom end of the dam and was soon at the Boyer Marina where I tied up at the fuel dock and went in with my questions. Shave? Shower? Phone? Campsite? Restaurant? All the answers were yes. I cleaned up, had a cheeseburger & fries and a cold drink then called Val and got a message machine. I decided to call back later. I got campsite #9 and paddled the kayak around near the swimming beach, which was the closest landing to the campsite. I started to unload. My feet were very sore from sand in my sandals and I was hurting. I would have liked to have ridden out in bike mode but the roads do not go along the Snake River Canyon but go up the ridge in the opposite direction towards Colfax. It wasn’t looking good. I did not want to start out on another long paddle in my condition, yet there was no option. I called Val to ask her what day would be good for her to come pick me up. Tomorrow (Sunday) would be the only day, so I said OK. She told me of an email form Mexico telling me that the house where I store my car had been sold and I needed to move the car by August 31. I came back to the campsite and rigged the kayak up in bike mode so I could ride out to meet Val on the road.

8-24-03

I had a good night’s sleep, pretty quiet for a campground. Got up at 6:00 and broke camp, got ready for pick up. Went for a ride on the bike to scope out the area and rode up to the dam and back. Saw a dirt road where Val could drive the van right up to campsite #9. Went to the office to have some kind of breakfast, microwaved a cheese thing which was unidentifiable but hot and tasty. Had some hot chocolate and read yesterday’s paper. Came back to the campsite and finished packing to go. The weather this morning is fine and calm like I had not seen in several days. Wouldn’t you know it! I could have paddled across the river and ridden out of here but it would have been a push.

The Shower (linked back)

When I paid for the campsite at Chief Timothy Park the girl at the booth, Barb, gave me four quarters in my change so that I could use the shower, which she said gave me three minutes of hot water for 50 cents. I got my bag of toiletries from the dry bag and walked into the bathroom. There were three washbasins, one with a shelf and no mirror and two with mirrors and no shelf. I put my bag on the shelf and looked in the mirror above the adjacent basin. It was a shock to see the old man with gray stubble staring back at me. I looked a real mess! I got out my shaving stuff and looked at the basin in front of me. It had only one faucet on the right side, which I had to press down the top to get cold water. There was no stopper in the sink so it could not be filled with water. I pressed the top and wet my shaving brush in the stream of cold water and wet my face all around with the wet brush. Exhilarating! I poured some liquid soap in the palm of my left hand and twirled the brush around to make lather then lathered up my scratchy face. I managed to have a cold shave with difficulty and cleaned up the sink and walked over to the shower.

There was a large cubicle with a bench to sit on outside the shower stall and a towel rail. I placed my clean clothes on the bench and hung the small towel above them. I then turned into the shower area and saw the coin box and shower apparatus. It was like nothing I has seen before. It looked like something out of the former Soviet Union, maybe from an old submarine. There was a metal box about 6 inches wide and about 2 feet high with two lever style handles one above the other. Above them was a narrow fixed showerhead protruding from the box. There were no markings on the handles. Off to the left side was another showerhead hooked on the wall to the left and a long flexible hose connected to the left side of the metal box. To the right of this whole thing was a coin box on the wall. I put in two quarters and turned the knob and I heard a strange whirring noise from above me. I looked up and there was a large fan starting up, but no water was coming out. I turned the first handle clockwise then counter clockwise and nothing happened. Then I turned the second handle and cold water sprayed out of the fixed showerhead all over me, so I turned it off. Then I turned the second handle and nothing happened again. I experimented with the lower handle and got warm water coming out of the showerhead but also spraying sideways out the top of the flexible hose where the joint was broken or loose. Then I turned the second handle to direct the flow to the flexible showerhead. I was beginning to figure it out. I got suitably wet and warm and had a good shower with water spraying in all directions. There was also a fold down seat in the shower stall, which allowed me to sit down and wash my sore feet. I was finished before the three minutes were up and turned everything off. I stepped out of the stall to get the towel and noticed that the errant spray from the loose joint had sprayed my clothes with water and they were all wet. Fortunately I had thrown my dirty clothes on top of them as I got in the shower so they were partly protected from the drenching and dry enough to put on and walk out of there. What and experience!