The thing about memory is that our minds block out bad events — like what it was like the first two days of our trip in 1998, hitting countless tree snags, carrying a lot of gear around and over dams, paddling across some 25 miles of open water on the two big lakes that are held back by dams at the start of the river.

All those bad memories have returned these past two days. After a long, exhausting day Sunday, we began Monday morning by paddling the second half of Lac Qui Parle lake. A stiff wind, causing just the start of whitecaps, came straight at us through the slow paddle across the lake. While we could make five miles per hour on the current of the river channel, John’s GPS unit showed us making barely two miles per hour across the lake.

When we finally got to the end and over the dam into the river channel, the pace picked up but we were already tired. We had more than four hours to go to get to our evening camping site. The last two hours were a rhythmic but quiet paddle — weariness and determination to move ahead trumped the observations and conversations we normally have.

We’ve had two long days, pushing ourselves further than we should, but hoping the days ahead will consist of somewhat shorter paddles on a moving river current.

In the past 10 years the river has appeared to hold up pretty well. The verdict is still out on John and me. We’re sore and tired, but so far a night’s sleep has done the trick.

A splendid campsite

The best part of the end of a long Monday was pulling the canoe up to the yard of Del and Shirley Wehrspann just below Montevideo. Del is a long-time river activist who was one of the founders of the CURE river preservation group in Montevideo.

They graciously offered their lawn for a campsite and — most importantly to John and me — use of a shower in one of their outbuildings. Neither of us had been appreciating the other depending on who was sitting downwind in the canoe.

This morning, we head to Granite Falls.