January 19th, 2020
Miles: 15 including approach trail
Temperatures: low of 30 in the morning – mid 40s
In a near perfect reversal of yesterday morning, Rafael cheerily encourages me to get packing and I barely grunt a response. One or twice a year I suffer brutal bouts of cluster headaches, 4-6 week stretches where I have multiple short, but incredibly painful, attacks a day. I’ve woken up to the quickly escalating beginnings of yet another attack, but there’s no point sitting and crying in the still-freezing forest when there are miles to do. There’s also exactly nowhere to pee discretely on this leafless river ledge packed with hikers.
I’m barely down the trail from camp when there’s one unavoidably wet crossing quickly followed by another. All the slow drips and side trickles of yesterdays unremarkable confluences have converged into a proper river and the only way forward is through. Kurt from Houston catches up as I’m coming to terms with what appears to be at least a thigh-deep crossing of the Little Missouri. “Water is freezing on my trekking poles” he announces. Perfect temperatures for wading waist deep in a creek wearing most of your clothing and your only pair of shoes. In we plunge. The water is cold enough to counter-shock my head pain into submission, and, the sun when it finally shines into the deep valley is just that much more appreciated.
The trail continues to wind along the riverside, occasionally veering off to cross the odd ridge before taking us right back to the water. How many times have we intercepted these same drops? Thankfully, the deepest crossings are also the slowest if chosen carefully, and even the faster ones are relatively low stakes today. Sure, you’d go for a cold swim, but there are few (if any) log-strainers to hold you under, and no large waterfalls to plummet over. Overall, this loop is a great opportunity for practicing safe water crossings: shoes on for grip and protection from rocks; face upstream so your knees don’t buckle in the flow; keep three points of contact to minimize the chance of slipping. Having made a few laps of this circuit previously, Joannah and Jared are pros! (height, though, is definitely an advantage).
Our safe passage today is incredibly dependent on water levels. Less than a decade ago, a devastating flash flood killed twenty people at the Albert Pike campground, now day-use only. We walk the flood plain downstream, where metal remains are still twisted among the trees. It’s a sobering reminder of what the river is capable of in a storm. But today, the waters are mostly gentle. The Little Missouri river gauge hovers between 4-4.6 feet during our trip, and the deepest passage is waist-deep on my 5’5″ frame.
As we approach the incredibly scenic Winding Stairs area the water glows almost glacial blue as it courses pass boulders and rock walls. We pass more and more groups of backpackers today. Each time, the other group is sitting on the far side of a crossing, packs-off, carefully changing into water shoes. Each time, they look up as we cheerfully splash straight through, shoes, socks, tights an all. There’s no doubt they found our method as impractical as we did theirs.
There’s one last crystalline crossing before the trail veers off down the Viles Branch Trail, leaving Little Missouri for good. I want to pause in the sun and take it all in. But I worry my ride will be waiting, assuming that both Riddle and Rafael are ahead, so on I press until I’m back at that first wet-foot crossing from yesterday. With new confidence (and no one to see if I fail), I rock hop across like a pro. Joannah and I chat our way up and over the approach trail ridge back to the parking lot by 1:30pm.
“Where’s Riddle,” asks Rafael who’s chilling by his car. Realizing that he’s behind after all, I try to suppress regrets for my skipped breaks. Whoops. We make tea to pass the time, until the rest of the group emerges a few hours later. There’s some last minute car switching which I massively botch. My sleeping pad ends up in Austin, my pot in Dallas. But three cheers to Turner who kindly delivers me to my front door. I’m positive I’ll soon be reunited with the rest of my gear – I’m becoming a super fan of UL meet-ups! My only real regret? Twenty-eight hours is far too short a time to actually get to learn 20 names, never-mind really get to know people (was that really Ultralight Jerk? judging silently? will we ever know?!!) So I guess we’ll just have to do this again.
Adventures in Natureculture 