Sunday, October 21, 2012


I have mentioned it before in passing, but I have a wind chime outside my home office window that is tuned to the gong on Matinicus Rock sea buoy, Maine. I can hear the chime clanging away as I sit and read “The Complete Wilderness Paddler.” According to the sound, a nor’easter has been breaking across the shoals the last week.

Black-Eyed Susans outside of town are hardy
enough to withstand gale-force winds.
The wind has been carrying on like we’re in Oklahoma or something. A couple days ago it was gusting to 57 mph, the day before 45, then 35 the day before that. The wind was strong enough to pick up a plume of dirt 600 miles long, extending up into Nebraska, and easily seen from space. The dust storm blowing across I-35 blocked out visibility and lead to numerous chain-reaction crashes, one involving 27 vehicles. As for the future, the wind is supposed to ease off for the weekend, and then continue through next week. In the meanwhile, I sit and anguish over getting started on the Arkansas River trip. To go paddling here, there seems to be no such thing as a good weather window, except for those five days a year that fall into that category while one is unavoidably locked into some activity that prohibits getting on the water. The only way to make a trip appears to be to pick a date, say “screw the weather”, and go. I’m about at that point.

I have the Oklahoma and Arkansas DeLorme Atlases and the printed Corps of Engineer maps of the river set aside. This afternoon I’ll make a final check and review of the kit and swap out a few summer items for the drysuit, watch cap, mummy bag, and fleece undergarments that I’ll unavoidably need before reaching the end of the river in latter November.


No comments:

Post a Comment