Buffalo River Journey - Two Fierce Women and a Dog

It is safe to say, this was a new level of trip for me. It is easy to hire a tour guide, rent gear and go explore the world, but to figure out a self-sufficient, 9 day float on your own was a great escalation. I originally planned on doing it solo, but the what-ifs of what could go wrong were daunting. Mentioning it casually to a friend of mine, she was all in. So that is how it began, Lindi, Tonya and Sisco the adventure dog.

Who's excited about Hardee's and the Buffalo River?!

We are both epic planners. Needless to say, there were cross checked spreadsheets, dozens of messages sent back and forth and a lot of discussion about potential scenarios. In the end, we ended up running two separate sets of gear which gave us lots of food options, the ability to continue on if one bailed out and double the safety and life sustaining equipment required. I'll definitely go lighter next time, but I wouldn't trade a single thing about the preparation or trip. It was amazing and validating.

The night before... "I'm anxious about strainers, water levels, weather, bad actors, medical issues. I'm worried I'll change and worried I won't. I'm worried that i won't want to come back, but I have to try."

A few practicalities out of the way:

We tracked the number and type of animals we saw every day. I love charts and particularly enjoyed seeing the trends as we went down the river. The weather definitely effected who was out and about!

For those of you desiring a high level summary. This was my great joy on the trip. Every day we stopped, took out maps, checked mileage and made sure were headed for success. I added the most memorable moments on account that there was really at least one defining component each day.

Day one was full of anticipation and jitters as were dropped at Ponca. Fitting in with the throng of day paddlers with canoes full of beer and inexperience, we looked like we were packed to move into the wilderness for the indefinite beyond. We launched with cautious and contagious grins that after all the planning, it was finally in motion. 9 days, 136 miles to go. This was the day of people. With great water levels and weather, the whole world seemed to be putting on the river. We weaved in and out of groups, watching a few crashes as went. Our luck was challenged when Sisco decided to avoid a wave to the face with the lateral exit from the kayak. Tonya flipped, self-rescued and rolled her loaded boat back up on her own. Badass points were gained immediately. Not only was her gear perfectly lashed, but the whole event was caught on video. Win!

Once we got back on track, we saw an waterfall that went far into the wilderness. We made it through the rapids above Kyle's Landing with a little guidance from some inflatables from Little Rock and after a last civilized stop at Erbie, found the perfect campsite for our first stop. The first day was in the books and we were rocking it.

Photo by TY - This photos illustrates the chaos that started our adventure.

Home Sweet Home

That night on a narrow strip of rocks through the woods, we settled in for a great sleep, Sisco made his pacing path through camp that kept us thoroughly entertained. I did wonder what would happen if his path was impeded by some sort of unexpected object, but figured we were all sufficiently fatigued that experimentation probably wasn't necessary.

Day two was a serious learning experience for me. After the first day on the water, we had figured out how to maneuver our 12-14 foot kayaks bearing weight with a great degree of efficiency. It was fortunate on account of the second day being full of strainers. The amount of trees lingering below the surface, on the surface and jutting out at wild angles, was enlightening. We eased around them successfully and then all the sudden we hit a narrow part of the river with a significant amount of debris. I turned back to make sure Tonya was coming through ok and when I saw her disappear behind the backside of a giant root ball, I tried to eddy out. The trouble is that I tried to eddy out in the fashion of an 8 foot boat, neglecting the weight and 14 feet of kayak under me. Needless to say, Tonya was a-ok and I found myself with glasses broken from a branch to the face and a flipped boat. I am also not too big to admit that in my arrogance, I hadn't lashed gear properly after lunch. This resulted in a great gear/boat grab by Tonya while I swam hundreds of yards downstream to retrieve the map/compass/gps box (all of my favorite things). I was initially furious at myself for the mistake, but in retrospect, it was a great reminder to challenge complacency at all costs and that I am human. So, I've now flipped a recreational kayak. Mark it in the books!

This didn't take away from a butterfly filled lunch, a much quieter day on the river and a great opportunity to see how the dry bags held up. This was also the first day I decided I was taking great joy in being in the buff outside. Three cheers for river baths!

Butterfly committee meeting.

#teammarmot

That's my Buffalo River shirt. A gift from the most amazing mother ever prior to departure. I wore it 7 evenings straight and it made me smile every time!

Photo by TY - This is the best part of the day! Dinner!

Photo by TY - Wind down mode.

Photo by TY - This is truly my favorite photo from the trip. Tonya captured the perfection of our evenings.

Day three was a day of miles and one of my favorite sections of river. We got to encounter the big hole/wave train between Mt. Hershey and Woolum and got to enjoys the Nars or Narrows section of the Buffalo. We had a slow and mellow start and pretty soon the river narrowed and the current picked up. Hearing whoops and hollars from around the corner, we assumed the two young men that had passed us where having a great time. Rounding the corner of the big wave train, we saw one bobbing head and no canoe in sight. We had previously discussed not providing aid unless someone was dying. This was two fold: avoid stranger danger, don't lose hours when we only have 9 days to make the trip. These boys were sad and their cooler and tent were moving down river fast. We are both first responders and kicked into gear. We retrieved cooler and tent and left them on the shore downstream so the guys could find their gear. We assumed they would bail out at Woolum and paddled on past.

Our campsite had an immense bluff before us and as dusk fell the frogs began a much more ambitious than normal choir practice. Our dinner consisted of Cheese Enchilada Ranchero, Southwest Salad and Chocolate Mudslide. It was delicious and more than deserved after rocking out some miles and saving the fellas!

Photo by TY - Dusk is falling and the frogs are calling.

Best campground view on the river. A little laundry drying operation in the works.

By day four, we had definitely hit our stride. We were working into much more familiar parts of the river and miles were cruising by with no trouble. We had the midway point on our minds and the general store at Gilbert that closed at 5. We persisted on and made the Gilbert landing with more than enough time for some treats at the store. We passed the dually truck buried up to its axles in sand and walked up the hill to find goodies. It isn't that we needed them, but it was on shear principal and celebration. We had ice cream, beef jerky and all sorts of liquids we hadn't packed on the trip. The store was closing and we retreated to the porch to enjoy these treats and took a deep breath. The owner came out, maybe with a little liquid courage on board and gave us this advice, "Camp high and don't talk to strangers....and you've already done one of those so good luck!" We laughed, hunted for a water spigot, and waddled down to our kayaks to continue on. It was such an easy day and I felt like we had the world well in hand. Just a couple of fierce women, a dog and freedom to roam.

We had a lengthy night at camp and my wood hunting walk got quite extended. I found all manner of tracks and signs of a flooded river. Tonya made a brilliant water purifying system that imitated IV fluid delivery and required very little labor. It would be our last filtering of the trip. It was wonderful and capped off by a dinner of dips and riverside made dark chocolate cheesecake. This really may have been my favorite evening of the trip.

Team Force of Nature Taking a Front Porch Break

Rocks hung up in trees from May floods.

Mushrooms on our big fire log.

This is what happens when a medic and a kayaker inhibit one body. Water filtration genuis.

Dip Night with a Little Pico!

Chaco tans earned with pride.

So let's take a break from the day to day of this trip for a moment. Most of the questions people asked before we departed were about safety, etc. Upon our successful return, questions shifted more to processes and what a day was like on the river. Here is the scoop on what a typical day looked like for us.

Sure, there was variation here and there, but this trip boiled down to the essentials of living. Eating, washing (clothes, dishes, ourselves), shelter, warmth and community.

This photo shows my gear before loading. From left to right:

Gray Bag: Essentials reached for frequently.
Jackson Kayak seat with lumbar support.
Yeti Cooler - to keep cheese and salad cool.
Personal Flotation Device
Water Bottle
Blue Bag: Kitchen, Dry Goods
Small Yellow Bag: Clothes, Tent Supplies (Book, Lights, Pillow)
Orange and Clear Dry boxes: GPS, Maps, Compass, Firearm, Notebooks, Chapstick
Big Yellow Bag: Sleep system (Air Mattress, Sleeping bag, Tent, Doormat)
Small Green Bag: Z-Drag Haul System for rescue
Orange Throw Bag

This is a close up of my PFD. Most of the critical life safety items are here: Spot Locator Beacon, Rescue Knife (blunt tip, bottle opener, oxygen bottle opener, serrated edge), Backup SHARP knife and a watch that goes off at least once a day and cannot be set to not do it....

So maybe that gives you a little peak into routines and equipment. There is peace in process for me so I enjoyed 8 days of unstructured structure.

Our first day past the halfway point! We woke up to cold and wind and the weather radio with variable news. We lingered at camp for much longer and were blessed with an eagle flying low and up river right in front of camp. Our drifts were fast today with the occasional gust to push us backward a bit. We are feeling the change in weather and hoping the weather will slow down so we can maybe get out Saturday (a day early). It doesn't feel like we've been on the river for 5 days. We've been fortunate to have no injuries besides a few scratches and sore muscles. We found a wonderful island to camp on.

The views are what it's all about!

Our first clouds in days.

Lunch break happiness - first day for jackets and hats for warmth!

Sisco and Tonya having a lunch cuddle.

Things get real when you are sun drying your underpants, but they are clipped to your solar panel so they won't blow away.

Looks a little gross, tastes a lot awesome.

A funny story before we leave day 5. Tonya and I walked to our respective ends of the island for baths. By this time I was completely on board with embracing my nakedness in the wilderness. This isn't some hippie move, just being at peace with my body and creation around me. I was upstream and responsible for keeping an eye out for paddlers. We were fairly sure we were the last ones on the river and with the sun up river, I won't say my view or vigilance were at their greatest. I was in the river when all of the sudden my soap tried to go floating down river. I snatched it up and tossed it on the beach. Upon impact, the lid popped off and I could envision myself with 3 more days of no washing. I scrambled up on shore, bent over and rescued the remaining soap. Hearing a sharp whistle, I turned in my hat and Chacos. Going downriver were two men in a canoe. I had my 20 x 24" towel and crouched for coverage. The young man in the front (20s?) was hiding his face behind his wide brimmed hat while the older man in the back, presumably his dad, looked me dead in the eye and greeted me with a "good evening." It was hilarious. Tonya never saw them and I don't know if they saw her, but I can say that memories were probably made all around on the river that day.

What made day six awesome? What didn't? We finally saw an otter. He was massive and glared at us as we floated past. It was actually considerably unnerving. Once we recovered from prolonged eye contact with a large mammal, we rejoiced in finally being in our familiar stomping grounds: Maumee, Dillard's Ferry and Rush. We stopped at Buffalo Point and hiked up the hill to have lunch at the picnic tables and see if we could score a soda from the machine. The river gods gave us two for one and we were thankful for the accidental blessing. After a long lunch filled with a variety of treats, we took any food we wouldn't need the next two days to the camp host in the hopes they might need it. We used civilized bathroom facilities and I had an odd moment. As I washed my hands I looked into the mirror to see a much more tan face. I hadn't see myself or thought about it in a week. It doesn't sound revolutionary, but it was rather odd. We walked down to the beach and after talking with a few folks, we were off. This most familiar section went quickly. As we passed Rush landing, we marveled at how much it had been compromised by the early spring floods. It was nearly unrecognizable. So what is the significance of passing Rush Landing? Once you pass Rush it is 24 miles until you hit the White River. It is the point of no return. We whooped and paddled on. The feeling that we had truly done it dawned on us hard. All we had to now was to not die. We had discussed the fact that the only way we were getting out of there was a helicopter or floating out. Now that reality was even more true.

Keeping an eye out for fish.

The last bridge on the river - Dillard's Ferry.

The last day of cheese and our 2 for 1 Diet Coke gift from the river gods. That's the look of a happy paddling partner.

We love maps!

Photo by TY: Beach finds!

Photo by TY

Last moment in civilization before we made the last push.

We continued on to Clabber Falls, had our last flip of the trip. Sisco may have assisted this process with another lean from the wave. The wave train was enough to show Tonya the bottom of my 14' kayak as I went through. I can't really blame the pup for wanting to keep his face dry. We camped just around the corner and settled in for a quiet evening. Or did we?

The first time I've used the tie downs on my tent. They were put to the test later that night.

A familiar rock and a great camp ground.

Adventuring requires rest. Sisco was getting ready for the next adventure after a hearty dinner.

We saved the magic flames for the right moment. Little did we know this fire would put on a show later in the evening.

Part of our evening routine is to turn on the weather radio and see what's happening upriver and where we are. This night, the first word we heard was "tornado." We knew it had been raining upstream and the storms were finally making it our way. We put the guy lines up on our tents and made a concerted effort to create extremely sturdy protection. We camped a little closer to each other and really far up the beach in case the water rose. Our kayaks were tied together as per the normal routine, but they were also dragged up off the water a bit more. My journal that night ends with "we will be ok." At 2:30, I heard Tonya shout, "if you need to pee, you better pee now. It's coming." I sprung out to roaring winds and my first fear was a surge of water pulling our boats downstream. In slight grogginess, I ran towards the kayaks and saw the water hadn't risen, but I also saw something that I hadn't seen before. The winds had whipped our fire back to life and a ball of flames was cascading down the beach like a some sort of island fire show. The winds rose and rose until I was forced back to my tent. The vestibule on the upwind side collapsed, but the tent held. Every lightening strike showed tent poles bending, but not collapsed. My little shelter was holding. We called to each other for the next 30 minutes to make sure all was well. I laid there with my locator beacon and headlamp in my hands in case we had to bail. It was slightly terrifying, but there wasn't much to do about it. Tonya was able to pull up radar which only gave us the comfort that this was a finite storm. We had hard rains, but both stayed dry. Then suddenly, it was over.

Day 7 started wet and we both struggled to get out of bed after the overnight excitement. We drifted slow and enjoyed the cloud cover and occasional sun. The upstream rains pushed us along and required very little effort from us. We saw 3 hog babies another 3 across the river with a sow. There was all sorts of squealing and carrying on going on. We decided might need to float a bit further down to get out of their territory. We found another island to camp on that had a significant rise in the center to protect us from what we anticipated was rising water. I had my last unintentional swim due to a steep bank and disembarking from the wrong side of the kayak... it was quite funny. Sisco had his last beach laps and we unfurled wet gear for our last camp. A peaceful dinner, attempted drowned jiffy pop and a rousing round of the "Worst Case Scenario" game was only accentuated by the otter that went floating by with the current. We racked fairly early and I wondered if I was really ready to get off the river.

The sand monster sleeps...

Island views.

Photo by TY: Last Camp

Photo by TY

Our last day we woke to rain. Breakfasts were cooked inside tents and gear was packed from the inside out. One look at the river told us it was rising. The evidence was there as we loaded boats and noticed a little less beach between us and the water. As soon as we were done packing and loaded, the rain stopped, but the pressing river did not. It only took us 4 hours to float the last 20 miles out. All week we had worried about the strength of the confluence between the White River and the Buffalo. We arrived at a White River calm and nearly flowing backwards. Easing off the Buffalo, we began to float past houses and the train even roared by encouraging us on. We rounded a curve and were suddenly immersed in motorboats, people and chaos. Seeing a familiar truck and man waving on shore, it was truly over. We did it!

Photo by TY: This is how you cook breakfast when you wake up to rain...

Matching t-shirts (and dry). Victory at the landing.

Post adventure meal at Heidi's Ugly Cakes. I'd been told about this all week and was thrilled at the prospect. The 4 cheese grilled cheese with turkey and bacon was divine. The mysterious cake was also consumed with great fervor.

This is the flood water the day we were supposed to get off the river. We rode the wave of water coming downstream to get out, but I'm thankful we missed the mass of it by moving out early.

So what is gained from this sort of adventure? What is the point? Well, let me start with this. It is critical to align yourself with great people. Tonya and I don't adventure together often, but we are aligned in all matters from safety, to processes to food. There was never compromise, just smooth operating cooperation. We both understand and live expedition behavior, which essentially means you take care of yourself and the greater good. We helped each other when we needed it and let things be the rest of the time. I can't tell you how thankful I am for her. We both became physically more capable over the week and more efficient. There was a single moment of irritation. We had different needs for this trip and respected each other as we went. I can say that we both felt pretty validated as adventurers.

I also realized my life is full of conveniences. Whether this is warm water, appliances, etc. our lives are very supported. It is very possible to get used to a battle rhythm without them. These things are comfortable, but they shield and protect you from reality and being close to the earth. When you have to labor for each meal, water, laundry, shelter, bath and travel, it is somehow more significant. I got used to it and loved it. I wore one pair of clothes for the whole trip except the last day and one pair of clothes at night. I stopped wearing underpants and didn't eat when I wasn't hungry. All of these things just happened organically without a lot of thought. Life was simple and good.

Adventure is a safety valve for a lot of us. I needed this trip and had dreamed of it for years. I hope to do it again and hope we have the same good fortune that we did on this adventure. I'll leave you with a few photos from Tonya that make me laugh. It's taken me most of the summer to get this written, but I've loved reliving it over and over.