Mom heads out to the airport via her chauffeur (is there a female version of the word chauffeur?) while things at suwarrow continue as ever. Terri is up and out on a long, 2-hour walk before most of us are up, Lance is busy with chores and Drew is off exploring. Before I know it, the two of them are working on splitting and stacking wood that Leo (local jack-of-all-trades) has left cut:
No schedules or real plans, just walks, talks, some games and lollygagging. Terri and I “work” regularly in the garden, and we plant a fall crop of spinach, chatting away all the while. Our haul for the day:
While cooking dinner, I bring out the hula hoop and mention, with a bit of frustration, that I can’t get the hang of it. Well, Ms. Terri Simon picks it up and gives us all a lesson:
The girl has hidden talents!
On Friday, Lance and I decide that our daily time together is going to (finally) go float on the Clark Fork River. We’ve consulted the river access maps I have and leave a car at Cyr Bridge exit #70, and head for Petty Creek Road at #77. Raft inflated:
we load in our water, snacks and oars, don our PFD’s and off we go. I squeal! I can’t believe we’re finally doing it! It’s pretty calm at the start, and we enjoy the perspective from the water:
I can’t quite figure out how to get comfy. There are blow-up cushions, which are nice to sit on, but if I do that, I can’t really dig my paddle in properly (having my advanced canoe badge from Fernwood, I know about this stuff), and if I settle on my knees, and paddle properly, I lose my balance with any surprising turns of the raft. Such problems!
We enjoy the laziness of the float, the occasional riffles in the water, and even a bit more action in spots.
Not really too much to avoid – other than shallow stretches – and the time passes slowly. After a couple of hours (Lance figured the ride to take close to 4), we come to the rest area, and we know that the only set of Class II rapids are somewhere around. Of course I researched the definition of difference classes of rapids before we went, to be sure I felt comfortable, and it said that Class II needed paddling skills. Which I have! A guide with two fishermen is on the shore and warns us of Alberton Gorge and rapids ahead. We know about Alberton Gorge – Class II and III rapids (and III and IV in high water) that start after the spot where we’re taking out, so we’re not concerned about that part. But being a novice on the river, I get a bit nervous, so Lance and I take out and walk around the corner to see for ourselves to what he’s referring. We do, and then look at each other and laugh, and head back to the boat. Def bigger rapids, but nothing we can’t handle…and do. A bit of fun to break up the easy float.
But we do see dark clouds ahead – literally. Cloud to cloud lightning appears and I get (dare I say it) afraid. I tell Lance that if my children were paddling on the water during a lightning storm, I’d be angry. Another flash, and we’re out.
The menacing group moves past us, with a few cloud-to-ground strikes far away from us, and plenty more cloud-to-cloud. (I didn’t know any of this about lightning, but my engineer honey explained it to me as we watched and gauged the danger from the storm. I loved learning all about how to read it and the intellectual stimulation decreased the uncomfortable emotional churning.) It’s also obvious that there’s a dark wall of rain coming down west of us, and as we watch it edge closer, I hatch a plan for us to put the boat on top of us as protection. It has a rope all around the top and we scrunch under as the storm hits. Lance tells me that if the wind catches the raft, to let go, and we’ll retrieve it later. I immediately retort: no fucking way am I letting go of this raft! What if it lands in the river, what happens then? The wind does indeed try to pull it out of our hands (too much airspace underneath), so I suggest we just lay down flat and hold it on top of us. I do that, but he can’t figure out how to fit under. So there’s my honey, standing in the pounding rain. It’s so loud under the raft, that I think it must be hailing. I keep calling him, and he finally scootches under from the other side – keeping his head further out because the wind from the storm is getting our eyes and hair all sandy (not to mention laying on a sandy beach). We laugh and I’m really enjoying it now, because there’s shelter, there’s no more uncertainty and….it’s an adventure!
About 15 minutes later, everything has passed and it’s actually a sunny, warm day again. It had gotten so dark for so long, that it was easy to forget how it all started. We wash as much sand as we can off of ourselves:
and the boat and are greatly amused to realize we were only 15 minutes from the take-out spot. We enjoy the last few rapids, skid into the designated area, and drag the raft up the long, steep ramp:
looking forward to a long, hot shower, which we took outdoors upon our return.
Next morning, the 4 adults (really?) go for a loooong walk, on which Mr. Drew finds an excellent skull to add to the bone collection by my door, and chat away. Between the paddling the day before, and the walk, my body was in need of some loving care, so we practice some yoga indoors:
have some lunch, and Lance teaches me how to change Mary Anne’s oil:
It feels like a real accomplishment, learning a basic skill like that. Kind of contortionist work, though. After a clean-up, I take time to relax in the sun for a bit. No chaises, but it’s easy to make do around here:
Then we pull out my 12-gauge shotgun and carry it out to the meadow. The men each take a couple shots:
and it’s officially time to load up and head out. It’s really going to be quiet around here after two straight weeks of company!