At 5:25am I awoke to a shriveled river speckled with sandbars, but it was the deep sounds of drums echoing through the river valley that opened my eyes (yes, they were real). Just twenty-one hours previous I was gathering last minute supplies at the local gas stop in Pickstown. I was preparing for a kayak adventure down the Missouri from Ft. Randall Dam (Pickstown, SD) to Lewis & Clark Lake (Running Water, SD). Listed below is my journal account of the kayak trip that turned into my most memorable adventure since I picked up a paddle…
Day 1
8:30am- I turned my car off, I was at the Randall Creek Recreation Area boat ramp just southwest of Pickstown, SD. Realizing this would be the last gasoline powered motor for the next couple days, I was ecstatic. I proceeded to unload my trove: my 15-foot kayak (which was nestled atop my car), my paddle and life jacket, and camping/food supplies I would need for 4 days (I only planned on spending 3 days on the water, but brought an extra days food in case something arose). As I pushed off the ramp I got the shivers, not from the cold river air striking my face but from the excitement of being a South Dakotan paddling down its river.
10:00am- The water was glass and I had only paddled 5 miles, a thunderstorm was moving in. The Yankton Sioux Indian Reservation bordered one shore and the Karl Mundt National Wildlife Refuge bordered the other; the river looked and felt like true wilderness. I quickly found an island and set up camp above the high water mark. Soon after this the thunderstorm erupted and all I could hear was the rain pelt my tent. This storm looked like it was here to stay…
6:00pm- Eight hours of writing, reading, sleeping, eating, and thinking. The sun finally forced through the dark gray clouds, the time waiting was well worth it! The scent of the air after a fierce storm like that was crisp and the light was as good as it gets. I pulled my tripod out of my kayak…
9:00pm- With four massive thunderheads turning pink above the river, saying the sunset was sublime is a major understatement. I’ll go for divine and leave it at that. The thunderheads seemed to form a landscape that had equality to a landscape of the Rocky Mountains.
10:30pm- I laid along the shore in the damp sand thinking about how the native peoples revolved around this river, their source and their end. With the excitement of the sunset flooding my blood, I was eager for the upcoming sunrise in the morning.
Day 2
5:25am- I usually wake about twenty minutes before sunrise to get my camera situated for the new light. This a.m. was different; I awoke about thirty minutes before sunrise, not to my small black digital alarm clock but to the sounds of drums and ethereal vocals. In the bluffs along the river (I could only hear, not see), a group of Yankton Sioux natives were playing music that flowed with the river. The sound was deep and vast; I was probably a mile away from them but could hear their every beat because of the river valley. It was a very inspiring way to wake because the music intertwined flawlessly with the sunrise, the tone changed as the sun rose.
7:30am- I fired up my propane stove, soon after I had boiling water for a cup of coffee and a bowl of instant oatmeal. After breakfast I packed up my things and loaded them into my kayak. After pulling my kayak about 100 yards over the exposed sandbar, I pushed off and started drifting with the current.
11:00am- As I paddled near one of many sandbars, I heard a piercing “zreep!!” from above. It was an endangered interior least tern, the smallest tern that inhabits North America. The interior least tern is found throughout this stretch of the Missouri River because it uses sparsely vegetated sandbars and islands as nesting habitat that are found throughout this area. The major reason for its decline is the channelization and unnatural flows of many rivers today, including the Missouri.
7:00pm- After paddling approximately 25 miles, I was tired and in need of a meal to refuel my body. I ate a freeze-dried spaghetti dinner and set up my camp for the night. As I laid in the warm sand next to the river, I turned on my cell phone, the only connection to the outside world. I had two messages; one from my friend Justin wondering what time he should be at the Running Water boat ramp to pick me up tomorrow and the other being from Jenny, my sole sibling who was pregnant with her first child, she said “Hey, Joe, give me a call when you get this, you’re an uncle and a godfather.”
10:00pm- After zipping up my sleeping bag and balling up a t-shirt for a pillow, I thought “Just another day on the river of life.” I smiled and then closed my eyes; my ears stayed open and always will from this day on.
Day 3
10:00am- I woke up to a hot tent; I had obviously slept in. I quickly packed up camp and started paddling. I like to paddle in the morning hours rather than the afternoon because the water is usually calmer.
1:30pm- 10 miles later I was paddling up to the Running Water boat ramp, Justin was waiting and ready to load my kayak up. We headed up to Pickstown to pick up my car.
1:40pm- I began to think of how I was going to summarize up my kayak trip.
1:44pm- I came to the realization that I just finished an adventure that cannot be explained in words. Water, trees, nature, beauty; these are all just labels. Trying to explain it is truly akin to telling a five year old that love is nice. After this I will only say that I encourage everyone to stop and listen, once in a while.
