After 103 days traveling the mightiest river in North America via canoe I have reached my destination; the Gulf of Mexico. From Lake Itasca to the Gulf, source to sea on the Mighty Mississippi in 103 days.
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I woke up before sunrise with plans of getting out early and hopes of reaching the Gulf by evening. By my count, 45 miles would put me in the ocean.
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I slept in on this Thanksgiving 2017. Once up I gave my family a call in Dallas, TX where they were gathered for the holiday.
After talking with the family I took a leisurely morning, writing and enjoying breakfast and coffee.
I finally hit the water around 11:30am. Baton Rouge, my goal for the night, sat roughly 25 miles downriver.
I worked quickly through the open water, jetting from one bend to the next, doing my best to stick to the inside corners in hopes of avoiding barges. At one point I was pinched in a corner as two barges, one Southbound and one northbound, passed close to shore. I hopped on the Marine radio and spoke with the captain of the northbound vessel.
"You just stick right there buddy and we'll cruise on by. Once I'm past you it looks pretty clear for a while"
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The alarm rang at 6 AM. Still dark outside, I gathered my things, tidied up the place and walked over to the main house. Park, dressed in a light blue button-down shirt, opened the door.
"Help yourself to whatever you need for breakfast. We got cereal, Pop tarts, toast."
After a cup of coffee and a small bowl of cereal park and I hopped in his pick up and we worked our way over toward the river. On the way we stopped at a convenience store to grab a bit more to eat. In a small heating container by the register a buffet style breakfast was on show. Park grabbed a sausage biscuit. I went with the works: biscuit and gravy, links and bacon.
Once at the water where Park had originally picked me up, we snapped a photo and said our goodbyes. Park was off to an early morning dentist appointment in Greenville, MS and I was heading south via the Might Miss.
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After a peaceful night perched on a small sandy bluff overlooking the confluence of the Arkansas and Mississippi Rivers I rose early with plans of making Greenville, Mississippi, a 45 mile paddle, by night fall. At sunrise I poked my head out of the tent to find a wind out of the west and clear skies. Following a quick breakfast and pack up I was on the water at 8:15am, one of the best start times yet for this morning sloth.
Thinking I would have to contend with wind all day, I was pleasantly surprised to find it relatively calm on the big river. I pushed through for much of the day, not allowing myself the usual pauses in action to sponge out the boat, scratch an itch or fidget with my gear. I was on a mission towards Greenville.
In the afternoon I noticed thousands of Canadian geese flying overhead, shifting and forging various V formations, flock after flock.
Around 2pm I closed in on Greenville, happy with the time I had made. An hour or so later I reached Lake Ferguson, a back channel body of water that Greenville sits on
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As Kelly was walking out the door to work in the morning, I jumped off the couch, remembering that we needed a picture before she left.
Once gone I retreated back to the couch for a few more ZZZs. The plan for today was to get back on the river and put a few miles between Memphis and me. Before I had remembered that Kelly lived in Memphis, a fellow named Bill had reached out to me on Facebook, offering to put me up or help in anyway once I got to town. I stayed in loose contact with him throughout my stay, and now it was time to cash in on his offer. After a quick call the plan was set. Bill would meet me at Kelly's and shuttle me to the river.
Sometime around Noon Bill pulled up in his sons classic green Land Rover Defender. We loaded up the gear into the whip and strapped down my canoe to the roof rack.
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Another gloomy morning met me on Kelly's couch. The folks I would run into in Memphis all lamented the fact that I was visiting during a stint of bad weather, but for me, it couldn't have been better. I would much rather be off the river and have a roof over my head during the poor weather than be paddling through rain and cold and clouds.
The plan today was to explore more of the city, make a run into Bass Pro Shops to get a few supplies, and hit a grocery store at some point. Armed with my skateboard and a backpack I cruised through downtown and rode Beale Street, weaving in and out of people and light posts, enjoying the ride.
I skated toward Bass Pro Shops along the river front, a nice walking path that stretched the rivers edge. Along the way I passed a few parks, some historical markers and a sign depicting the vital role the city of Memphis played in the Civil War.
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I woke up on Kelly's couch and peered out the window towards the courtyard. Heavy rain was falling from a dark sky. Great day to be off the river.
Sometime in the late afternoon the rain held up and I took the opportunity to get outside and explore the city. With Kelly gone at work I grabbed an Uber and hit the Spaghetti Warehouse to fill a pasta craving. The rest of the afternoon was spent walking around downtown Memphis, exploring the murals that covered many of the city's brick walls and popping my head into any area that peaked my interest. One such place was an art gallery that featured portraits from the photographer Jack Robinson. Dozens of famous stars from the 60s and 70s, all shot by Robinson, lines the walls in black and white. Aretha Franklin, Nina Simone, Jack Nicholson, Elton John, Paul McCartney and Cher to name a few.
I also walked by the infamous Lorraine Motel, now home to National Civil Rights Museum. Preserved as it was on that fateful day in 1968, you can see the balcony that Dr. Martin Luther King stood on outside of room 306 as he was shot and killed. A replica of the wreath that was placed on the balcony the following day still marks the spot.
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I woke up with plans of reaching Memphis, Tennessee by mid afternoon. Just 24 miles down river, I figured I would make decent speed and stroll into the city with daylight to spare. Boy was I wrong.
A viscous headwind made progress difficult. With large whitecaps layering the main channel and waves crashing into shore I thought about stopping and chalking up a low mileage day to the wind. However, tomorrow's forecast is looking grim and with the thought of Memphis BBQ on my mind I reluctantly pushed on.
A few miles north of the city limits I decided to make a crossing to the opposite shore (toward Tennessee) in hopes of mitigating some of the wind. As I worked across the river rolling waves, several feet high, crashed into my boat. The bow took on water as it dipped under white capped breakers in the midst of the main channel. My mind began kicking into overdrive. A small portion of it reminded me of the stakes at hand (cold day, fast moving water about a half mile wide, and no one to help if things went bad), while I forced most of my head to focus on the task at hand; safely traversing the river.
Once across I was able to loosen the white knuckled grip on my paddle and be thankful to be near shore.
Just before the sun ducked behind the trees of Arkansas, the skyline of Memphis, Tennessee appeared to the east. As I approached I reached out to an old friend, Kelly, who lives in Memphis and offered to put me up of the night.
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The morning helped me to confirm that a stop in Cape Girardeau was the right move. Cold, rainy and overcast skies made me thankful to have a warm bed and roof over my head.
A slow morning gave way to a lunch stop in downtown Cape with Ken and Michelle. After a BBQ pork sandwich we cruised back to the house. As Ken headed back into work for the evening I knocked out a grocery store stop at Walmart. Oatmeal, peanut butter sandwich crackers, pretzels, apples, canned dinners and ramen noodles filled my shopping cart.
For dinner Michelle and I ate at a local Mexican joint near the campus of South East Missouri State, or SEMO, as it's known around town. A late night sucked in the couch watching game 3 of the Dodgers Astros World Series followed.
As Saturday morning (day 67) rolled around I was convinced by Michelle to stay one more night (at least one more, in her words). With a frost warning in effect for the evening and sub freezing temps into the early morning I was easily swayed. Add in the opportunity to watch College football all day and I was definitely swayed.
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10-26-17
The morning made way for a clear and sunny start to the day. Temperatures have been dipping into the low 40s and high 30s overnight, and with the sun out today, by mid afternoon it was in the low 60s.
By the time afternoon rolled around I began trying to devise a plan for the coming days. The forecast called for clouds, rain, and cool temps for the next two days. As I looked at the map I noticed I was closing in on Cape Girardeau, Missouri. Trying to pull any contacts I had, I remembered that an old roommates parents lived in Cape G. Three years ago, and for about one year, I lived with Avary (and 3 others) in a house near the University of Denver. Each month I would write a rent check and mail it to Cape Girardeau, and I remember the town now likely because each month I would have to look up how to spell it (still never sure if I get it right...)
I shot Avary a message asking if her folks still lived in town and if they may be willing to put me up for a night or two to get out of some poor weather. Shortly after, I heard back from Avary with the green light. Awesome.
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I slept in and enjoyed the bed in St. Louis. Once up I began reorganizing my gear and getting things ready to hit the water. Sometime around 10am Dina returned from a workout class and graciously made breakfast. Eggs, blueberry sausage, toast and fresh fruit.
As I was working to put away my restocked food supply Dina reminded me of the meals her and Joe had saved for me. Two nights worth of Joe's famous beef chili, two nights worth of Dina's chicken and rice soup, and a serving of white chicken chili, all frozen solid and ready to be tucked away into my cooler. To add to an already amazing set up, Dina had baked my favorite cookies, 7 layer bars, and came prepared with a ziplock full of them (she had remembered that my Mom often bakes them as a special treat). Armed with enough delicious homemade food to fuel me for the next few days, the three of us set off toward the river.
Driving through downtown St. Louis we worked down to a river access point in the shadows of the famous St. Louis Arch, "The Gateway to the West".
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After a late night catching up in Hannah and John's living room a slow Sunday morning was in order. Sometime around 11am we left the apartment in the Central West End and headed for brunch.
After a great meal and stories of old high school shenanigans we wrapped up and cruised back to the apartment. At halftime of the Bears - Panthers game we made the move to meet some family friends who I would I stay with for the night, Joe and Dina. With my canoe strapped to the top of the sedan and a back seat packed with gear, Hannah, John and I drove about 15 minutes to Joe and Dina's.
After shuffling the boat and gear from Hannah's vehicle to Joes, I said goodbye to Hannah and John. It was a great stay with an old friend, and I'm happy to chalk John up as new one.
After getting set up I settled into the couch with a cold one and football on the TV. Perfect. A shower and a few loads of laundry later and I was feeling great
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I woke up at Richfield in the darkness of early morning. After a great nights sleep and a day off the river I planned to get my first sunrise paddle of the trip in. I used the gator that Dennis had left me to load up all my gear (including freshly washed clothes and refilled water) and drive it down to the waterfront where my boat was tied up.
When all was said and done I pushed off into the Miss around 6:20am. As darkness worked its way into dawn a cloudy sky and numerous Islands on the eastern shore stole what I was hoping to be a memorable sunrise. Rather than an orange haze painting the sky, the sun decided to work its way over the tree tops while hiding behind cloud cover, only to emerge hours later overhead.
Clouds covered the sky throughout the day, joined at times by a significant headwind which caused rolling waves on and off again.
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I woke up at the Tiki Bar campsite and began packing up. Just as I was set to push off, my phone rang.
My cousin Lara and her husband John, who live in St. Louis, were on the line. We had been trying to connect for a few days but with poor cell reception and low phone battery, a few texts were all that was exchanged. Unfortunately, the pair were out of town for the weekend, however, John had planned on setting me up with his business partner, Mike, who owned a duck club on the banks of the Mississippi.
As John described the location of the club I realized that the Tiki Bar campsite I had stayed at was less than a half mile away, just across the river and separated by Cuivre Island. With the location of Richfield now dialed in I paddled 15 minutes past Cuivre Island, then turned upstream for another 20 minutes.
As I pulled up to the concrete steps I was greeted by Dennis, the grounds keeper. Following some small talk and tying up the boat I hopped in the gator and the two of us drove up towards the house.
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The old time trappers/commercial fisherman were up and at it around sunrise. I laid in the tent, listening to them bark and banter with each other about the most efficient way to get the net in. The wench the crew used to hoist in the net full of fish made a loud chugging noise.
By the time I got up the net was about halfway in. I made breakfast and coffee before waltzing over to the fellas to see how the haul faired. To me, it looked like a decent load, but as I got closer and started chatting with them it was clear they were not impressed.
"They all got out overnight. 2 days worth of work for nothing...."
Spirits were low. The night before the guys had hoped to take home 30 to 40 thousand pounds, which by their estimation would take two full days of loading fishing into the boat, hauling them to the boat ramp and coming back for another load. By the time the net came in not even half of one boat was fully loaded.
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Camping on the Eastern shore, a crisp shade covered camp in the morning. Despite the chill I took time to make coffee and do a bit of reading from the new book gifted to me by Jane in Quincy, IL, Mark Twains "Life on the Mississippi".
I broke camp and hit the water, ready to make my way into the sunshine that had taunted me while reading in the shade.
A beautiful, cloudless day on the water warranted a few layers of sunscreen throughout the afternoon.
Sometime around 5pm I spotted a large sandbar in the distance- the perfect spot to stop and set up shop for the night. As I pulled up to the edge, a silver, flat bottom boat came flying to the inside portion of the sandbar, which was shaped like a horseshoe. Three fellas in waiters began running the course of the sandbar, from one point of the horseshoe to the other, dropping a large net. As they worked, hundreds if not thousands of fish began jumping out of the water, covering the inside of the bay with a wall of flying fish.
After sleeping in, I walked downstairs to be greeted by Jane and a waiting cup of coffee. Scrambled eggs, fried breakfast sausage and buttered toast soon followed.
Garry had headed back to the lake earlier in the morning to attend to a few tasks before heading out to Milwaukee for work in the afternoon.
Following breakfast and small talk I came to the conclusion that it made sense to stay the night with Jane and Garry again this evening. Game 2 of the NLCS, plus the opportunity to go to the grocery store and make the short trip to check out Hannibal, MO was all too good to pass up. After making the decision I retreated to my room to knock out some writing while Jane worked on finding recipes and ingredients for a family get together at the lake this coming weekend.
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I woke up early to cloud covered skies and enough of a headache that I contemplated my decisions the night before. The forecast called for on and off rain throughout the morning, with it picking it in the late afternoon.
I packed up the tent and made breakfast under the cover of an overhang that protected the deck of a beautiful log cabin home that Pam rents out on a nightly basis (the cabin was unoccupied.....I hope).
I hit the water and began working my way South toward a rendezvous in Quincy, IL. An old college friend of my Moms (whom she hadn't seen in 25+ years!) had been following the journey and offered to put me up for the evening.
With sunny skies and a slight breeze I did my best to dry out wet gear.
As I paddled through the day my solar charger replenished both my phone and speaker battery, meaning music was rolling in the boat.
The river hard turned into what for all intense purpose was a massive lake. Extremely wide with no islands to duck behind for wind cover, I paddled into a slight headwind. Passing Fort Maddison, IA and Nauvoo, IL the river was at its widest point to date. A beautiful, large white church peered out towards the water from a hill near Nauvoo.
Around 5pm I pulled up to lock 19 near Keokuk, IA. As I entered what is the longest lock on the Mississippi, I asked the Lock master if he knew of a good spot to pitch a tent for the night. First, he recommended some of the islands down river, then he told me of a restaurant just down the way, the Warsaw Brewing Company.
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