We reached a point just before the PINES that was open to Mariah and she was hailing us to stop, turn back, but we continued. I watched Gary try and make it straight across the bay to the Pines, I decided to avoid the bay and went into the previous mode of “Hug the shore and paddle like hell”. I watched Gary and hoped I wouldn’t have to make a dash for him if trouble happened. If I went over it would be close to shore and little swimming needed. I struggled to making a quartering route to the south shore, it was hard to keep Southern Rock in my brain, when I was cussing a SR solo. Give me my MR solo any day, I have faced these waves before and didn’t feel a pucker factor over 6.

Finally Gary decided to start side slipping working his way to shore. Half way down the bay, the Pines forced Mariah to tone down her song, a little farther and the bay became quiet with only a ripple. Every muscle in my body began to relax, a slow paddle, lean back and stretch, watch for Gary’s progress and finally pull onto the sand beach at the Pines. I pulled the canoe up and took of the water socks, stripped down to my nylon shorts and laid in the sand. My body saying thank you to each other, thankful to be there, dry and safe.

Gary joined me shortly and had trouble getting out of his canoe. He was very tired and needed the rest more than me. We slept for ½ hour or more, had a light lunch and viewed the white caps rolling around the point. Strategy was planned and ways to handle the transition on the point. I was worried about the point where the canoe would be sideways to the wind. Then needing to make a turn into or quartering with the wind. I planned on working to the point and making the change before hitting the wind, working out gradually to control the canoe direction before hitting the main water and quartering the waves to shelter of the north shoreline. Gary planned on going to the point and just turning and heading straight across. He had a 5 minute lead and was around the point and paddling hard.

I started the quartering, mostly focused on the far shore. I suddenly heard a hello and looked up to see two canoes riding the waves head in the opposite direction. They asked about our trip and days progress and seemed to be surprised we had started from the dam around 7am. Well duh, they weren’t even paddling, and I was working hard, not much time to talk. Mariah was singing her song and everyone was listening. It seemed like and hour to get across the bay and into the river between Pickerel and French. I beat Gary across and waited for him, we paddled slow taking a rest for tired muscles.

Paddling up the river we heard a boat motor and shortly meet a park boat headed out to Pickerel Lake, we wondered if someone had drowned or needed help. Quiet prayers for all. We both knew the final stretch would be the toughest, the wind was howling, whitecaps from shore to shore. Entering the final stretch of river to French Lake the waves were partially blocked by the reeds, but we found ourselves in shallower water to avoid the waves. We agreed to hold the south and east shore lines and hope for no repeats of the first day. Mariah switched her song to another octave and from another direction.

The last mile or so would be the hardest of the trip. A challenge thrown down by Mother Earth, finish the trip on the water or walk through the woods. There was no way in hell I was walking, I would not stop now, shoulders and back tired and sore but they could take more. Waves over the front, waves be damned, finish on the water, not listening to the winds scam. I kept the shore on my right and paddled, short strokes with the bent shaft Bending Branches that has made every trip. How long I don’t know, the focus was on moving forward however slow it was, occasionally looking back to check on Gary.

I finally looked up to see the parking ramp area. 50 yards, 40 yards, 50 feet, 20 feet and finally land. Trip finished, looking back I didn’t see Gary. Apprehension was building, he was struggling, did he turtle or was he coming. Finally after several minutes he came along walking the shoreline, a trip finished or just stopped short. This was the toughest trip ever, for challenges and trials faced. Fears and dangers were faced and driven back or quietly embraced. A trip with a great partner, one who didn’t get wound up about the events, never giving up.