The Day of the Derecho

Day 3 August 6, 2025

We were still on the lake but the thought of getting closer to the river and the rapids is looming. I’ve been studying my Hap Wilson’s Wilderness Manitoba Rivers book. It shows and tells the features of each wild river in the province. I copied the five pages that pertain to the Hayes River from Knee Lake to York Landing on the Hudson Bay in Manitoba Canada. I put the five page map in a plastic cover to easily access it as I proceed down the river. From day one, I realized I wouldn’t be looking at the map as we move through this water. I had a job to do. Paddle!

Despite Hap’s book being 27 years old, it gave me pertinent, if not up-to-date information on the river. What I focused on now was our first set of rapids. Sometime tomorrow we will encounter heavy swifts, rocky features, big holes, strong flow, hard upstream, class II technical rapids, bump and grind, fun and games. No worries.

Because today the lake was still my home. Smoke once again greeted me. Today it gave me a horse voice. All my belongings smelled of smoke which is much more pleasant than the odor of a well-exercised unwashed body. My bowl of oatmeal seemed meager. The coffee that followed was skimpy. But that wouldn’t cross my mine once the paddling started.

Today I was paddling with Gord, a nice soft-spoken man from Winnipeg. He said he was uncomfortable with his abilities so had taken white-water classes with Wild Loon as had Karen and Nigel. I tried to get training in CA and MN but l couldn’t work anything out.

With the smoke thickening, the other shore of the lake remained illusive. It had the haunting beautiful of hanging over an edge of stillness of an unknown waterfall drop at each paddle stroke. The morning was completely calm except for our paddle strokes. We could have been in complete silence. In Gordon Hempton’s book, One Square Inch of Silence, he warns that Natural silence is disappearing. If we could all stop paddling and we would remain silent, we’d feel this soundless soundscape. This one square inch of silence.

As we leave the morning behind, the smoke blows away and the wind picks up. The wind angles around until the waves meet us broadside. We tack into the wind. The canoes endure their injuries better at the front than side. Broadside is the worst side.

I purchased a new wooden paddle from Garrett to have branded with the logo of York Factory when we landed there at the end of our trip. This paddle was heavier than mine at home. This meant, I had that heavy Paddle-or-die feeling. Also, my tailbone was quite painful to sit on. I was happy to have the day end at 4:00 on a long beach.

Past the beach, I found land to stake out my claim. It was in front of a bramble thicket. I left my tent on the beach in the crook of this site. I took a walk with the BoS (Bag of Shame) and found a game trail. From the prolific scat I determined, I was in the company of moose.

On the return to my site, I realized how slim the site was. I only had enough room for the tent. But I had to stake or (peg) as the Canadians say, the back and one side by tying them on the low bushes. All my movements were painful and hence slower than usual. The tent was up and staked out in front. I was reaching out the door on my knees and WHAM this hurricane of a wind collapsed the tent around me. I remained holding still to keep tent from blowing away.

Or course I thought this must be a derecho. I knew it would stop without doing damage to anything that wasn’t in its direct line. I figured everyone was safe and I would be safe shortly. Then I was surprised when somebody grabbed me. I screamed. And I heard a voice say “I didn’t know you were in there. We’re gonna tie up your tent.”

“Thank you.”

I lay there for a while.

I hear Garrett’s voice announce. “It’s time to eat.” He said,

“Now?” I asked.

“Yes it’s time to eat. It’s ready. Already. Yes you need to come! OK?”

Oh my, I realized I was a wreck. I didn’t even feel like walking to get something to eat. It was really hard to move with a bruised tailbone. I straightened right out of the tent. Telling myself, stand up, look confident and un injured.

It was drizzling. Near to me someone said, we’re in here. They had erected a tarp. It was warm and cozy and people let me sit on their little chairs. Sit here please. Someone said. I said to myself, do not knock over the folding tripod chair. Sit on your injured spot and don’t lean back.

They had spaghetti. I put my face in the cup and just ate without looking at anyone, I was starving. Even though the food was covered in sand and it was gritty, it tasted great and I ate the end of the pot.

Then we started singing songs. And it turned out that Anne was a choir director. Karin had sung in musicals. And Allison knew songs from her music camps. We harmonized and sang in rounds. A nice night. After the derecho.