Dark Butte Canoe Campsite MT River mile 68
Ahh, (sigh) last day floating down the Upper Missouri in our big red canoe…
Today for the first time since floating away from Ft Benton some 4 days ago we hit the water even before Idaho and Iowa! The river was like glass this morning and even the wildlife wasnt active yet. The stillness coupled with the towering sandstone cliffs made for a contemplative moment as we paddled along in the dead quiet of the early morning.
The plains Cottonwood Trees. Here today.. Gone tomorrow?
As we continued along, one of the only sounds to be heard this morning was the distinctive rustling of the Plains Cottonwood Tree leaves. Any breeze at all causes their trademark spade shaped leaves to twist and turn on their stems, and in the early morning sunlight they positively glitter. The sight and sounds of the Cottonwood trees has become one of the most familiar of the trip. We have grown kind of fond of these gentle giants, especially the shade they provide in the unrelenting heat! Unfortunately due to flood control efforts of the past half century, new Cottonwood saplings have for the most part been unable to take root. And therefore the Cottonwoods of the Missouri are slowly dying off. We’ve heard there is a plan to restore the spring flows of the Missouri to their traditional levels, which would facilitate regeneration of new saplings. So with a little helping human hand, we hope nature can find a way of reproducing these trees which are so unique and beneficial to life on the river.
Presently we approached a cow swimming in the river next to the riverbank. Wait, no…. it was a cow standing in the river up to its shoulders cooling off in the river. No.. no. scratch that. As Amy astutely deduced, this was a cow stuck in the mud! Before even having the luxury of debating whether or not we could assist, the river swept us well downstream, with the sorriest pair of forlorn eyes fixed on us as we cruised by. A little later we spotted Tony the solo canoeist who said he was planning on making a stuck cow report to the BLM when he got to Judith Landing.
We also passed a cable ferry, which neither of us had seen before. It was pulling a truck across the river on a little platform pulled by cable from one side of the river to the other. Definitely want to steer around that.
Soon we heard a gurgling sound downstream, and at the last minute managed to steer around a massive rock jutting out of the middle of the river, which the water was heaving over like a giant bulbous ships bow.
OK…. Time to bare my soul.. So having not pre-arranged some sort of shuttle of our vehicle from Fort Benton- nor at least someone to pick us up at Judith Landing- we have been dropping little hints all week to Idaho and Iowa about which way there are heading. They pooled resources and had their vehicles driven to Judith Landing where upon arrival they would be ready to load up and head home. Unfortunately, it was revealed over the past days that they would be crossing the Judith Landing Bridge (only the 2nd across the river since leaving Fort Benton 88 miles up-river) and heading for points south. So then… we would need to make other arrangements to retrieve our car back in Fort Benton. And preferably prior to the potential embarassment of them arriving here in Judith Landing tomorrrow to find us still marrooned here.
We decided to just keep paddling all the way to our final destination of Judith Landing in order to give us plenty of time to figure out what to do. At about 1PM we saw the bridge which signified river mile 89 and were approaching Judith Landing. Initially we planned to come ashore at the campsite upstream from the take-out point at the boat launch. However, there did not seem to be a good place to park the boat. In fact there were many small powerboats occupying the few suitable spots. Overall, the general feeling was that canoeists weren’t welcome here. Hmm… this is getting to be a familiar refrain… Then before we could try to maneuver back for a second look, the river carried us deftly past. So we continued on under the bridge and to the boat launch on river left.
At the boat launch we recognized Tony’s canoe (the solo canoeist we bumped into at Eagle Creek). We’d seen him several times on the water already today, and so he must have just recently arrived. He appeared just in time to help stop the boat and help pull us safely out of the relentless pull of the mighty Missouri River. Once safely ashore, we sat in the shade for a few minutes to catch our breath. While we were certainly pleased to be drying our wet feet, we were also thinking we’d probably spend the rest of our holiday stuck in Judith Landing!
Just about then the BLM volunteer from Coal Creek appeared. Our hearts sank, as we figured she was going to bust us for good this time on the WAG BAGS. But she just noted our arrival in her log. The only information we got out of her before she disappeared into her air conditioned trailer was that the store at Judith Landing that was mentioned prominently in all our guide books had closed last year. Great. Not even a cold refreshing beverage or an ice cream cone to welcome us to this outpost along this desolate section of the river!
As we were considering summoning the nerve to knock on her door and ask her if she knew of anyone heading up to Fort Benton this afternoon, another canoe with a couple of guys we had seen intermittently over the past two days pulled up to the boat ramp. We quickly made the acquaintance of Frank and Dan from Great Falls, who were waiting for their buddy to arrive from town with Frank’s pick-up and drive them back to Great Falls. They charitably agreed to drop me off in Fort Benton, which is on Hwy 87 on the way to Great Falls.
Soon a Chevy pick-up rolled up the dusty road. I helped them load up their canoe and gear, and we piled in. Unfortunately, I had to temporarily leave Amy with the canoe and gear, but promised to return as soon as possible later that afternoon. Fortunately, Tony decided to set up camp in Judith Landing that day, and was around to regale her with tales from home back in Tennessee over the next several hours.(or maybe unfortunately…)
In the car all the way to Fort Benton with me crammed back in the extra-cab Dan kept pointing back at me, and saying “Damn, you smell something baaaad!!….” Personally, I thought it was Frank, but I wasn’t about to try to rebut him. I don’t know what Dan’s secret to staying so fresh and dainty was, but in my case, I guess the camp soap just wasn’t up to mustard.
Two hours of bumpy dirt roads later, we pulled out onto Hwy 87, and were in Fort Benton by 3:30. After rounding up the truck, thinking I would surprise Amy, I made a brief stop in Fort Benton at the Grand Union Hotel to inquire about a room there tonight. Unfortunately, the same woman from our earlier encounter was there to greet me. I quickly remembered how unpresentable I must have looked (and smelled), but it was too late. I could almost hear the words before they came out of her mouth. “Are you camping? There’s a campground on the edge of……Hey: haven’t I seen you somewhere’s before?.”
OK, fool me twice. We’ll be staying elsewhere, thank you…
With that, I hopped back in the truck, and MPG be damned, floored it all the way back at Judith Landing and got back over there shortly after 6PM. Turns out, it was a good thing that we did not book a room in Fort Benton. We realized we could just cross the mighty Missouri right there at the JL bridge and start heading for points South.
View from bridge of our take-out point at the boat launch in Judith Landing
After loading up, we paused for a moment in the car in the middle of the bridge (which as far as I can tell, may get two cars crossing – on a good day) looking downstream, thinking already what a great float it had been, and more importantly that we were glad not to have attempted (like Tony) to float the entire 150 mile free-flowing stretch as we had initially considered. After all, 89 miles on the river over 5 days was not too shabby. Then, with a whoosh of dust, we were across the bridge on Hwy 236 (umm.. actually another dirt road) headed for the Beartooth Mountains, Yellowstone and beyond…
After 4 nights and 5 days without a shower, we absolutely agreed that before the land phase of the trip re-commenced a restaurant meal and hot shower were in order. So we set our sights for Lewiston, MT and some sort of decent motel. In the car, Rob asked Amy if he really smelled that bad. Without hesitation, the answer was, Yes, you do!
Rolled into Lewiston at about 9:30PM and it was still not quite dark. After checking into a homey looking motel along the strip outside of town and getting cleaned up, we made a couple of passes through town on the hunt for a good hot meal. We found a nice restaurant in town that unfortunately had just closed. They kept apologizing profusely, and made several suggestions. But starving as we were by this late hour, we ultimately succombed to the stomach and ended up eating at McDonalds. Neither of us could even recall the last time we had set food in this fine dining establishment.
We tried to discount the effects of 5 days of dried pea soup and spaghetti for dinner on our appraisal of the food we were about to eat. Nevertheless we were pleasantly surprised by how tender and tasty the new Angus burger was! (Ed’s note: the second one was not as tasty, so one apiece would have been quite appropriate in retrospect, as our very sour stomachs the next morning would attest…)