Fall is usually a short season here on the northern plains. We are only a weekend away from November, and the first snow fell here in the Sioux Falls area this week. The temperatures have fallen into the 20s the past couple of mornings, and the birdbaths in our yard have frozen solid. We had howling winds of up to 50 mph the past couple days, and our dog, Finnegan, has needed his coat to go walking. But, the forecast for today was for calm winds and a high into the 50s: a perfect day for a late fall cruise.
As I set out this morning from our eastside Sioux Falls home for Lake Lakota, the temperature was up to 39 degrees. As I headed south to Canton and on to Newton Hills, my Honda Civic hybrid with the kayak strapped on top began laboring into a south wind. The battery for the motor assist dropped down to a single bar, and the car could not go any faster than 50 mph. The wind seemed a bit stronger than predicted.
When I arrived at Lake Lakota about 10:30 a.m., the area was deserted, much as I expected. The wind was whipping down the lake out of the south, and the waves were rolling into the dock and beach.
I thought it prudent to avoid the rolling waves at the boat ramp and instead launched from the beach. Right away, I took on a wave into the cockpit of the kayak; this caused me to turn into the western arm of the lake where there was some shelter offered by the opposite bank and trees, bare of leaves as they were. There was an effect much like a curtain across the lake separating the calm western arm from the north/south orientation of the main body of water and the wind and waves rolling south.
Into this calmer portion of the lake, I cruised along the shoreline looking over the landscape. I came across a muskrat and a few duck-like birds. Overall, though, there was a quiet and settling aspect about the lake: winter is coming on, and the trees and bushes are settling in for a long sleep. No turtles were to be seen, and much of the waterfowl has now moved on. The thick aquatic grasses that clogged the waterway have nearly disappeared. The bottom was visible at 3 or 4 feet.
Coming back out of the western arm, I encountered heavy waves and a strong south wind. Padding required effort and I had some anxiety in the big waves. On a second attempt, I made the point and continued south into the main body of the lake, hugging the shoreline. Once heading south, it seemed dangerous to try turning around; I didn’t want to broach in the waves, especially alone on the chilled water.
There is a public access area on the west side of the main body of the lake, and I ducked into the short inlet provided for fishing. This sheltered area provided a chance to rest and assess the risk of heading further into the heavy waves on my way to the dam at the south end. While in the inlet, it seemed that the wind shifted west, and the passage south seemed less threatening. I continued up to the dam, passed over to the east side of the lake and made my way across the waves to the first inlet available, relatively near the launching area and dock.
The inlet offered calm water and a chance to look over the changing landscape, a last opportunity to see any wildlife. Sure enough, my passage stirred up a great blue heron that flew over and near my kayak.
After cruising down to the end of the inlet, I reentered the main body of the lake and made my way across the waves, past the dock, to the beach area.
I was out on the lake for about an hour and a-half, time to reflect upon the changing season, thinking about late March or early April when I again make the trip to Lake Lakota. Spring: already, I am anxious for it.
The weather forecast seems relatively good for the next few days, so I will leave the kayak on the car in hopes of going out to Lake Alvin again. The older I get, the more I dread the coming winter. But, as we all know, it is the experience of winter that makes spring on the northern plains so anticipated. By January, the time of the South Dakota/Kayak Annual Conference, we will all be thinking about the coming season – by then only eight or nine weeks away.
2 comments:
Best wishes to you on getting another paddle in, though the weather often already sounds quite severe. Here in Maine we are still above 30 most days. On windy days we have been paddling on streams, but now that its deer season, since most streams have blinds on them, we'll probably stick to the Penobscot River.
Hey Jay! I understand the need to get in that "one last paddle" before Old Man Winter hits hard... but do be careful paddling alone in cold weather! Reminder - cold water (not air)temperatures are the real killers!
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