Even subtracting 5 minutes for every time I woke up and turned over, I still slept for a cumulative 12 hours. Hibernated, really. It was 26 F according to my thermometer. The pic above is of the aft end of the boom, covered in little fuzzy ice crystals. I had rigged two old fiberglass tent poles to the canoe, and had thrown a tarp over them as a make-shift shelter to keep the frost off of me for the night.
I decided to paddle up stream (and against a light breeze) to lunch in the mouth of the San Gabriel. My plan was to then hoist the sail and cruise back to a camp site on the south shore. The water was calm, it was sunny, and I was pretty much alone on the river. Lunch was on shore, and I was feeling good. But then- well, sometimes you get the wind. Sometimes the wind gets you.
It kicked up to 10 knots, gusting to 20, and shifted to make my trip back to the lake quite an exercise. I could no longer ride the wind out of the river, as it was blowing straight in my face. Also, when alone in a canoe, sitting in the back forces the front end of the canoe up (even with my gear stored forward to balance, it wasn't enough to make it flat in the water), and every gust of wind pushes the bow to the left or right, making staying on track impossible. To counter I had to throw myself into the middle of the canoe each time the wind kicked up, and pad
dle hard to keep myself from regressing back up the river. All this (and a Dale's Pale) meant when I finally got to a camp, I crashed again for 11 hours. I only woke up when the coyotes started howling- but rolled over and slept some more after I was sure they didn't sound like they were coming closer. Pic below is lunch at Box Crossing.
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