The Missouri Breaks

Up, packed, and on the road by 8am.

I’m writing this at 5pm (Mountain Time) in Fort Benton, Montana.

The first part of this drive was through landscapes that, in every way, reminded me of the rolling countryside across much of south central BC. Open Parkland vegetation, Ponderosa Pine, deer everywhere. This is the forested west and it’s scattered with little towns that are the remnants of better economic days.

Wallace, the site of Idaho’s last legal brothels.

Mullen, an historic relict of bigger mining days.

Other little way-stops that once had a name and better prospects.

Once we left the Missoula area at Bonner, we drove through a narrow valley that quickly opened up nicely with wonderful views all around us. For miles we drove through rolling hills with sunny skies and almost no traffic.

Crossing The Rogers Pass (the one in Montana) was when the landscape rally began to open up. We were driving east to Great Falls and then north to Fort Benton. This part of the trip has been my favourite so far. I know some may find the low and proximate terrain boring, but there is a unique subtlety to the way little streams meander and random groves of tress punctuate to patchwork of green grain and brown fallow fields.

These scenes are what I’d call ‘magnificent distances’.

We arrived at Fort Benton about 4:30 to find the rest of our Canadian crew members were already starting to set up their tents at the Canoe Camp at the upstream end of the town and adjacent to the Fairgrounds.

What we also found was wind that was ripping down the river and through the tress along the banks of the Missouri River. And it was loud! I can tell you all of us were wondering how this might go if the wind kept up this way. Fortunately the river isn’t too wide, so we’re hoping it won’t play too much havoc, tough it will keep whomever is steering on their toes as it pushed the boast side to side across the current.

The spot where we’re camped is actually quite picturesque I think. Bind us and across the river is a high bank that has eroded away leaving a cap of low weak cliffs that are constantly melting away with the relentless rains that move across the land. Surprisingly, and an indication of how wet the Spring has been, there are lots of places where the hill grasses are still a lush green.

Our goal tomorrow is to paddle from Carter Ferry downstream about 25km to our camping spot here. In the meantime…we eat.