River and Bayou

When I woke this morning, I knew I was going to have a hard time winning the day. Even after coffee, I just couldn’t find the energy to do all the things that needed to be done to pack and load up the canoe properly. I just needed to rest after every little effort. Load the water jug. Sit down and rest. Load the ballast bricks. Sit down and rest. Take down and pack up the tent. Rest. And so on for almost an hour and a half. Either my camp chair was just too comfortable, or my body was telling me it didn’t want to leave. Probably a bit of both.

Anyway, along about 10:30 AM, I FINALLY was loaded and ready to hit the water. All morning it had been sweltering hot again. But then, just as I pushed off from shore, I noticed the skies had clouded up. And it had started to rain. Cool, clean, blessed rain. Not a lot. But enough to make paddling the next two hours a totally different experience than it had been the past eleven days. The sun was hidden behind clouds. And the temperature seemed to stay in a nice comfort zone. So, even with my late start, I felt invigorated. And when the clouds and rain cleared about 12:30 PM, I was still energized. And so I paddled or floated non-stop all day. Around bends, and through the whorls, eddies, and confused waves that often accompany those bends. The tighter the bends, the more tricky the water to paddle. The water changes character so rapidly through those turns. One minute, placid and smooth. The river peaceful, silent, and noiseless. The next a cauldron of confused water and choppy waves. Learning to read the water in those situations is a canoeist skill that will take far more years of paddling to develop than I’ve got left.

I kept moving all day. No power nap. No break ashore. Had lunch in the canoe while drifting down a long straight stretch of the channel. You’ll have a hard time convincing me there’s anything better or more tasty than a tin of King Oscar sardines drenched in olive oil with jalapeno peppers for lunch while in the middle of the Big Muddy.

And so, despite the slow start, it turned out to be a pretty good day. I paddled past the mouth of the White River. And past old hardwood forest. And huge sandbars. And barges. Always the barges.

As evening neared, I began to search for a place to camp. I’d spot what looked to be a good place, then change my mind and paddle on, knowing there’s probably a better spot just a short distance further. And so, just after 5 PM, I found my spot for the night. A couple miles short of the mouth of the Arkansas River. With shade. And a nice firm sandy bottom (no mud!) Right across from the Malone Barge Fleeting Area. Of course, it wasn’t until later when I examined the charts more closely, that I realized what the fleeting area was – it’s the place where all the huge 24-35 barge combinations are put together into one moving mass to be pushed up or downriver by those powerful diesel tows. Oh well. What’s a little more nightly barge noise! And to be honest, I’m a bit more concerned with the snake track I spotted in the sand nearby. Copperheads, maybe? I hope not. Anyway, snakes and night noise are part of the experience now.

The sun’s about to go down, so it’s off to bed. The temperatures are suppose to be about ten degrees cooler tomorrow. And might even get down into the upper sixties at night. Looking forward to that.