Eagle Creek Canoe Camp,  MT   River Mile 53

Watched the dogs obediently jump into their respective canoes as our friends shoved off, again before us. But this morning we were on the river by 9AM, which was the earliest yet.  We are realizing it is best to put the miles in early- not just to beat the heat, but to avoid the inevitable winds that kick up in the afternoon. Such winds wreck havoc on most forms of water navigation- but especially flat bottomed long narrow small non-motorized craft…

Early in the day we stopped in to browse around  at an old  turn of the century  homestead (um.. that would be the 20th century, not the 21st )   and check out some of the abandoned buildings.  Homesteading was popular in many parts of Montana a century ago until a drought and a drop in crop prices forced many  homesteaders to move to larger towns. A couple of jolly fellows who just hoppped out of  a big yellow inner tube were already trundling about the ruins.   Seeing them zig zag down the river later in the day as we passed made us realize that we were not in fact the most novice looking folks floating down the river!

Seven Sisters Rock Formation

Another super hot day was shaping up,  and would also turn out to be a short one- at least in terms of river miles put in. This was in part because of some weather we would encounter later in the day, but mostly because of the awesome scenery here- which we wanted to savor as long as possible as we drifted by. By now we  are into the most visually impressive section of the Upper Missouri:  the White Cliffs area. One by one we passed by some of the most striking and well known sandstone formations on the Upper Missouri including the Seven Sisters and Steamboat Rock as well as a distinctive magma outcropping called Citadel Rock.

Citadel Rock

As some massive clouds began forming, despite our early start, we decided to take out the canoe only 15 miles down-river from Eagle Creek. At  around 1PM we pulled up to Dark Butte canoe campsite, and were greeted by Molly and Ranger splashing around in the mud.  Our friends were already there, and after washing the camp shore muck out of our sandals (again)   we joined them for a picnic lunch-  us in our (relatively)  comfy campchairs- them sitting on the ground.  They asked when we were going to set up the hammock, and we soon obliged, upon which time they immediately took turns occupying it in a seemingly unbroken interval until late in the afternoon.

The storm never quite materialized, and seemed to curl around us immediately to the East. We tried to count out the interval between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder to determine how far away the storm was, but never could quite remember the relationship between the two.  At any rate, just a few drops fell on us before the skies cleared in the late afternoon, just in time to allow a short hike.

As we headed up into the hills, this time we vowed we would stay together.  Upon reaching the top of a sandstone shelf  we were rewarded with sweeping views of the campsite below and the bending river canyon beyond. All around us were little rock toadstools and other erosion-induced oddities.

That afternoon we found that if you waded out far enough, the river bottom become more stable and rocky (and the water a bit more clear) so we grabbed our biodegradable camp soap and  headed off for  a brief dip in the river to cool off and clean up. After 3 days without a shower, the water  felt incredibly invigorating and refreshing.

Late into the evening we noticed the skies were again completely clear, which would facititate some decent star gazing.   As darkness settled in, Eric broke out his Sky Scout. We had never heard of such a device, but it uses the GPS satellites, and basically you just point this bad boy at the skies and push a little red button. Just like magic it tells you through a little speaker which stars you are looking at, as well as as a brief synopsis of their place in the intra-galactic stellar archipelago. Very cool indeed.    (Ed’s note: for the guy who has everything, this just might be the ideal gift).

It was well past 11PM before the sky turned completely black, and the stars began to reveal themselves like a bag of popcorn popping- first a few at a time, then soon in vast numbers.   The Sky Scout was duly passed around, and we took turns snapping the stars and identifying their respective constellations.  Amy quickly identified Arcturus, the brightest star in the northern hemisphere.  By the time it got to Rob,  who had again removed his contacts, and was  again walking around like a blind puppy,  he couldn’t really effectively aim at any individual stars.  So he pointed it at the moon, and pressed the button.  Back came the reply: “That’s the moon, you moron”.