The Missouri River’s Secret

. . . by this I mean the “Far West;”—the country whose fascinations spread a charm over the mind almost dangerous to civilized pursuits. . . . What man in the world, I would ask, ever ascended to the pinnacle of one of Missouri’s green-carpeted bluffs, a thousand miles severed from his own familiar land, and giddily gazed over the interminable and boundless ocean of grass- covered hills and valleys . . . without feeling a sweet melancholy come over him, which seemed to drown his sense of everything beneath him and on a level with him?

George Catlin

An Overnight Sea Kayak Trip on the Missouri River

I’ve written previously about my canoe travels on the St. Croix River on the border between Wisconsin and Minnesota. It’s close to where I now live, but I also spend a lot of time in North Dakota, my home state. I share a home there on Lake Audabon, in central North Dakota, which affords quick access to Lake Sakakawea and the Missouri River. I had canoed the Missouri River a few times in my youth, and with my acquisition of a new Wilderness Systems 17-foot sea kayak, I was looking at her again. I wanted a big river to challenge me on an overnight kayak trip. I’d used the new kayak on Lake Sakakawea and Lake Superior already, so the Missouri, which flows freely for 70+ miles between the Garrison Dam to just south of Bismarck, was the best candidate big river near me.

That section of the Missouri has some similarities with the mid-section of the St. Croix, which runs from Danbury to St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin. But the Missouri is wider, deeper, faster and colder than the St. Croix. The water coming out of the Garrison Dam is ice cold and stays cold even during the hottest parts of the summer. The river is a narrow, ribbony oasis, wrapped by a thin band of cottonwood trees. It’s surrounded by the windy and dry high plains of central North Dakota. That made the sea kayak the right boat for the trip.

Compared to a canoe, a sea kayak and its passenger sit lower in the water, reducing the effects of high winds. Unlike the St. Croix, the Missouri has no rapids in the section I traversed. Sea kayaks aren’t built for maneuvering in rapids. Instead, they’re built for speed and stability, even in large waves. Their long, narrow shape is ideal for tracking along a straight line. However, sea kayaks can carry less gear than an open canoe, roughly the same amount of gear you can comfortably backpack with. I had about 35 miles to travel in 12 hours, so the the sea kayak’s 4-knot speed plus the river’s 2 to 3 knot current meant I could travel fast. In fact, during this trip I had a tailwind from the north, making it easy to keep my speed at 7+ knots.

First Day, July 19

I loaded up my gear and kayak and drove to the boat landing at Washburn. I needed about an hour to get the boat and my gear ready once I arrived. I pushed off for the first leg of my trip. I planned to travel 3 river miles to the backcountry campsite at Cross Ranch State Park. The park itself sits on 5 miles of shoreline on river right. My campsite was at the most northern section of the park, on Levi’s Trail.

To find the Levi’s Trail campsite I studied the topographic map and used a railroad bridge on the east shore as a latitude anchor. After paddling about an hour, I pulled up on west shoreline across from the railroad bridge. The campsite was a quarter mile hike west from the shore and, after carefully navigating through the 30 yard wide poison ivy barrier at river’s edge, I arrived and set up camp.

It was a warm, pleasant evening and after setting up camp and getting the campfire going, I grilled a pizza for dinner. Afterwards, I hiked Levi’s trail and took photos. After sunset I headed to bed with the cry of coyotes in the distance lulling me to sleep.

Second Day, July 20

I got up early to be on the water by mid-morning. There was no real time pressure because, although I had about 35 river miles to travel, there was light until almost 11pm. In addition, I expected to make 5-6 knots easily during the trip. That meant a trip of about 7 to 8 hours, including stops. After packing up and moving my gear to the boat (carefully avoiding the omnipresent poison ivy near the shoreline), I pushed off and headed south.

The first half of the trip to Bismarck was uneventful. The tailwind, current, and my paddling strokes pushed my average speed to around 5-6 knots. Something was starting to dawn on me though. The last people I had seen up close was a family at the boat ramp in Washburn when I started my trip. Since then, I hadn’t seen a single fishing boat, hiker, or paddler. And this was a mid-summer Saturday. My campsite was the most remote one available at Cross Ranch, requiring a 3.5 mile hike from a park trailhead. I saw no one at the campsite, and only a few people at the park in the distance as I kayaked down the river. That was during the first 30 minutes of my trip on the second day.

I kayaked for about 3 hours hours until I reached the halfway point for the second day, near Price, North Dakota. I eddied out river left and had lunch. I could see the prominent Square Buttes to the south, a historic marker for Missouri River travelers for centuries:

“These buttes, a conspicuous series of flat-topped eminences on the west bank of the Missouri River north of the town of Mandan, were noted in the accounts of numerous early explorers, and provide a secure landmark for early accounts of travelers along this reach of the Missouri Valley. They are indeed the topographic crown jewels of Oliver County, and are visible for miles up and down the river. They provided a familiar northern skyline for the Mandan Indians for more than two centuries, when they lived in the village at what is now Double Ditch State Historic Site.”

The Square Buttes in Art, W. Raymond Wood

The buttes were sketched by Karl Bodmer as he passed them in 1832, on his journey to the “Far West” with Prince Maximillian.

At this point I I noticed I was drinking a lot more water than planned, given the heat and my level of exertion. I also noticed since I left the state park, I had seen neither boats nor people on either the water or on shore. That seemed really strange to me. During the shoulder seasons, I’ve canoed the St. Croix River without seeing people. But this was the height of the summer, and it was a weekend. It was eerie, and a little unsettling. I passed the Steckel Boat Ramp, the only landing between the Cross Ranch and Bismarck, and saw no one there and no boats in the water.

After lunch I pushed off and continued down the river. In some sections the river became very shallow and the current speed picked up dramatically. This increased the boat speed and the danger of hitting a tree branch or log. So while it was exciting to go 8-9 knots nearly effortlessly (remember that tailwind), it also required my full attention to avoid collisions.

Unfortunately, the heat and exertion caused me to use up my water several hours before I finished the trip. I’d neglected to bring my water filter so I would just have to tough it out. During the final 2 hours of the trip, dehydration started to cause serious cramping in my arms. The cramps were not severe enough to stop me from paddling properly, but it was seriously uncomfortable. Lack of planning around hydration was a definite fail on this trip. Unfortunately, the river narrows near Bismarck and there are many docks protruding into the river, creating an obstacle course near shore that must be avoided. My worry was that the if the severe cramping got worse, I wouldn’t be able to safely navigate the boat past these extruding docks.

As I passed Double Ditch, a strategic high ground used as a village site by the Mandan Indian tribe pre-settlement, I finally saw homes, people, and civilization on the shoreline. Ten minutes later, I saw a boat for the first time since I had left Washburn, about 24 hours before.

Once I passed Double Ditch, homes lined both sides of the river for much of the way. Numerous pontoon boats were encountered. It’s also illuminating to see Bismarck and sister town Mandan from the river’s perspective, rather than seeing the river from the perspective of the towns. I made it to the Grant Marsh bridge where my brother picked me up and dropped me off at home. After cleaning and stowing gear, I headed to a local pub for a celebratory feast.

And started planning my next trip to this unexpected wilderness so close to Bismarck. George Catlin would be glad to learn that the exhilaration the river inspired in him is still there to be found two centuries later.

Observations

• The Missouri River’s secret, therefore, was that during the peak of the summer season, mid-July, I traveled from Washburn to Bismarck on a weekend without seeing a single boat or a single human being on the river. The river, effectively, is uninhabited in this section. This actually makes sense. Fishermen are smart enough to realize that getting farther away from the boat ramp introduces a variety of risks including groundings, mechanical failures, and other problems in areas of the river where it’s hard to get help.
• Most of the land on the river is private, with effectively no public access. This means the few adventurous souls willing to traverse the river between Garrison Dam and Bismarck are going to have the river mostly to themselves.
• My intuition about the sea kayak being an excellent boat for travel on the big Missouri was borne out. I was able to travel safely and quickly with this boat. Although my gear had to be more compact, it still worked and challenging yourself to take less gear is always a good practice.
• Hydration is important when your exerting yourself for hours in hot weather. Make sure you have a backup system to create water in case you need it.
• Backcountry camping is possible on the Missouri River. Cross Ranch State Park has multiple options for camping that are accessible from the river. You can’t camp on private land without permission. That means your best options, outside the Cross Ranch State Park, are islands on the river. Or find a way to make friends with landowners on the river.
• The best way to make friends with landowners is to treat their land with respect, don’t trespass, and clean up after yourself and others.
• Finally, if you’re willing to do the work and learn the skills, you can find solitude and something close to backcountry wilderness camping on the Missouri River.