A Blustery Boondoggle

We have had a recent run of good luck with the warm weather, productive fishing and overall successful excursions until... last Saturday.

That morning we loaded up the Midge and drove north to Blackfoot, planning to drift 10 miles down the Snake on a stretch of the river that was new to us.

While stopping to pick up boat snacks and kill time waiting for the wind to die, we enjoyed “Customer Appreciation Day” at a nearby Sinclair.

Sipping complimentary root beer floats while roaming the antique car show led us to believe our day was panning out well.

After dropping my car 10 miles downstream at the takeout, we drove and unloaded the Midge at the put-in. The wind was blowing 12-15 mph upstream at this point, but we were confident we could cover the 10 mile stretch before dark to find the takeout. 

Boy, were we wrong.

As we watched the motor boats fly by, Buck paddled hard against the wind, making little progress. An hour and a half in, the wind now was blowing 30 mph, we were only 1/4 of a mile downstream and could still see the boat ramp...yikes. 

Surely the day could be salvaged if we just dropped the anchor, fished this stretch and then used the wind to drift us upstream to the boat ramp...wrong again.

As Buck was pulling the anchor rope in, snap! I looked over the stern and watched the anchor sink and disappear... crap. Time to reevaluate our plan.

I suggested we paddle to the bank of the river, walk to the car, drive it back to the boat, load up, and cut our losses. I sat with the boat on the shore, sipping on a Sierra Nevada and eating Sun Chips while Buck walked back to the car. 

Twenty minutes later I see him walking back down the bank, looking defeated, only to find out we are on private property and he had been cornered by 8 German Shepherds. 

We loaded up and paddled to the opposite bank where we gave in to our last resort. Buck jumped out and waded, dragging the boat up the shallow bank. I wasn’t making it easier by sitting in the boat so... land ho! Now I was wading too.   

We couldn’t blame the passing motor boat passengers who laughed at the couple who were stumbling up the bank dragging their pram while they swamped us with their wakes.

It was one of those boondoggle days where you're just glad to be headed home alive.