Mississippi River Trip Report is Finished!

We finished writing our Trip Report, and posted it over on the forums at BackpackingLight.com.

Thanks again to everybody who helped us out.  Every bit of assistance, major and minor, helped!

Thanks to all who helped us

Our canoe trip down the Mississippi River would not have been possible without the enthusiastic support of hundreds of strangers we met along the way.  Strangers kept us motivated, happy, clean, well fed, and entertained.  We regret that we did not write down all the names and locations, so this list is created from memory.  We apologize to those people we forgot to mention, it is not due to lack of your kindness, but due to our lack of diligent note-taking.

A great big THANK YOU to all of you...

Aug 12. 

• The gentleman who picked up Jim, hitch-hiking near the Bemidji airport, for bringing Jim all the way to the Lake Itasca Lodge, 35 miles out of his way.

• Tens of unnamed people at the Lake Itasca outlet, for cheering us on as we made our transition from the lake to the official start of the Mississippi River.

• Carol, who we met at the outlet of Lake Itasca, for inviting us visit her when we passed through Brainerd.

Aug 14

• The MNDNR crew repairing the Iron Bridge Camp shelter, for giving us advice and water.

• The information lady at the Bemidji Tourist Information Center, for making a bunch of ultimately unsuccessful phone calls trying to secure permission for us to camp in the town park, and for offering to let us secure our canoe overnight inside the information center.

Aug 15

• The four men at Wolfe Lake, for letting us eat our lunch at their private lakefront bench and then filling our water bags in their kitchen.

• The campground host at the Knutson Dam USFS Campground, for welcoming us with open arms and offering to share his campfire and sausages with us.

• The staff at Chippewa Pines Resort, for serving great burgers in a cheerful friendly setting.

Aug 16

• The waitress at the Big Winnie Cafe in Bena, for proving that Prairie Home Companion tells the truth about Minnesota.  And to the ornithology professor and his son, at the next table, for keeping us company while we ate our burgers.

Aug 18

• "Those Crazy Critters", Itasca-to-Gulf canoeists we met in Cohasset, for sharing their enthusiasm and energy, and who are still happily working their way down river as I type this.

• The shift supervisor of the Blandin Dam in Grand Rapids who responded to our call for a vehicle-assisted portage, for his patience, good company, encouragement, and generosity in going out of his way to take us to the grocery store after he finished carrying our canoe and gear downstream. 

Aug 19

• Sydney, who lives next to the bridge in Jacobsen, for greeting us with open arms and for maintaining a couple acres of yard ornamentation worthy of Austria.

• The proprietor of the tiny general store in Jacobsen, for serving fabulous scoops of ice cream and providing us a free basket of home-grown squash.

Aug 20

• The man with the dog who lives next to Berglund Park in Palisade, for welcoming us into his little town with open arms and encouraged us to camp in the picnic shelter and keep out of the rain.

• The Palisade Cafe, for cheerfully serving us fantastic bacon double burgers with an egg, fries, and coleslaw, the best $10 meal in Minnesota.

Aug 21

• Adam, the 22 year old solo canoeist we met on the river, for sharing pizza with us, for being a great guy, and for blogging about his trip down the river so we can vicariously share his adventure.  (And congratulations on safely reaching the Gulf on November 14!)

• The surveyors at the boat ramp in Aitken, for offering rides rides into town and diligently providing advice about restaurants.

• Carl, the eighty-something farmer on whose lawn we camped, for sharing fascinating stories about his family's 150 year ownership of that farm and for hosting us on that rainy night.

• Gene, the mechanic we met at Carl's farm, for sharing fascinating stories of building clocks and enthusiastically talking shop with Jim.

Aug 22

• Carol in Brainerd (who we met back at Lake Itasca), her husband, her daughter-in-law, and her grandchildren, for a place to secure the canoe overnight, for extraordinary hospitality and interesting companionship, for a yard full of birds, for a great Chinese buffet dinner, for a trip to the biggest store we've ever seen, for a clean bed and hot shower, for an unexpected gift, and for so much enthusiasm that we left their care fully recharged, both mentally and physically.

Aug 24

• The Royalton Lions Club, for welcoming us to their annual picnic, where they provided shelter from the thunderstorm, abundant food and companionship, and for introducing us to Mike's Hard Cherry Lemonade.

• The Riverboat Depot in Sartell, for the Battleship Burger, the best burger of my life, and for the friendliest most interesting waitress of the trip, who fishes from her Lund boat when she is not waiting tables.

Aug 25

• The maintenance worker at the Rose Garden in Saint Cloud, who went out of his way to fill our water jugs when the spigot near the portage was out of service.

Aug 27

• The staff at our first lock, Upper Saint Anthony Falls, who were cheerful, patient, and encouraging as they taught us how to pass through a lock.  This encounter turned out to be the first of many with friendly helpful lock staff.

• Carol's friend the float-plane pilot in Saint Paul, who offered to pick us up at the river and take us to her home for a bed, shower, food, and companionship.

Aug 28

• Jan, in Prescott, for driving us to the grocery store and waiting while we ate ribs and did our shopping, and for good stories about the town and the region.

Aug 29

• The couple at Lake Pepin, for welcoming us into their lakeside home while we waited out a thunderstorm, for telling us tales of other paddlers they'd met, and for offering their yard for camping.

• The Red Wing Marina, for allowing us to park our boat there while we were in town getting lunch and supplies.

Aug 30

• Staff at the Eagle Center in Wabasha, for taking time on a busy holiday weekend to answer innumerable questions about raptors on the river.

Aug 31

• Tim Marshall at EnLIGHTened Equipment in Winona, for receiving a couple packages we shipped to ourselves in his care, and for delivering them to us at a boat ramp.

• The proprietor of the Winona Marina, who remained friendly and accommodating even though we arrived harried and frazzled (from the holiday speedboats) and inconsiderately redirected our anger at her.

Sep 2

• The nice grandmotherly proprietor of the Blackhawk Trading Post in DeSoto, for selling us a case of Mike's Hard Lemonade at cost and then giving us cup cozies.

Sep 3

• The old Iowa farmers at the adjacent table at the Marquette Bar and Cafe, for fabulous companionship and some tall tales while we ate our burgers.

Sep 4

• Rich, in Guttenberg, for welcoming us to his town, teaching us about catfishing, taking us home for showers, and being an all-round five-star guy.

• A half dozen of Rich's friends who came to the Thursday evening beer and chowder gathering, for their warm welcome and great companionship.

• Rich's neighbor on the beach, for providing a bed in his fishing shack.

• Dozens of friendly people in Guttenberg: librarians, the laundromat attendant, the staff at two restaurants, and the proprietor of the thrift store.  We arrived in Guttenberg feeling worn out from strong winds, and could not have had a better town stop.

Sep 6

• Jeanette and the other vendors at the Bellevue Farmer's Market, for their great produce and enthusiastic companionship.

• The artist in Sabula who is restoring a 1846 hotel, for giving us a tour of his building, offering food, and regaling us with many fascinating tales of Sabula in the mid 19th century.

Sep 7

• The fisherman and his son at Lock 14, for their encouragement and for giving us advice about where to camp in the Quad Cities area.

• The catfisherman who visited us at our island campsite, providing good company and good stories.

Sep 8

• The couple at the Blanchard Island ACE campsite, for their good cheer, encouraging words, advice about mud at the campground, and information about the upcoming storms.

Sep 9

• The campground host in Keithsburg, for refusing payment and for encouraging us to sleep under the picnic shelter, protected from the oncoming storms.

• The waitress at the Eagle's Nest Bar in Keithsburg, who could not have been more enthusiastic and kind, for sharing the URLs of other paddlers who had been there recently.

• The owner of the Eagle's Nest Bar, for driving us ten miles to the grocery store, waiting while we shopped, and giving us a scenic and historic tour of the region.

• Dave and Sandy, fellow campers at the Keithsburg campground, for great companionship, wine, pork tenderloin, salad, and their enthusiastic view of life.

Sep 10

• The four fellows who appeared at the Keithsburg picnic shelter (where we were camped) at 6:00 AM for their daily morning coffee, for their fine early morning companionship, their advice about staying off the river during the strong winds, and for offering to take us on a tour to the nearby state park.

• The lock man at lock 18, who was the most friendly lock man yet, for encouraging us and expressing his envy, even though we arrived at his lock in ridiculously windy conditions, so focused on negotiating the waves that we were oblivious that a tow was closing in directly behind us.

• The president of the Upper Twin Island Sportsman's Club, owner of some riverside cabins that were above the now-flooded river level, for answering "of course" when we asked permission to camp on their high and dry lawn, and for offering full run of their facilities. 

Sep 11

• The lock man at Lock 19, for showing up with his own personal truck to portage our gear around the lock, just so we could avoid a 90-120 minute delay at the lock.  Above and beyond the requirements of the job.

• The Purple Cow in Alexandria, for a fabulous taco and burger meal, on the house.  And a dozen patrons for an evening of good cheer and enthusiastic conversation.

• Boom, who lives across the street from the Purple Cow, for opening his home, his guest bed, his shower, his washing machine, and his liquor cabinet, and for telling such tall tales that we were waiting for his nose to elongate.

Sep 12

• The staff at Lock 21, for carrying Little Miss Tuffy up over the rip-rap and loading her into their truck, so that we could avoid an extended delay in waters where an incoming tow would be too close for comfort.

Sep 13

• Bill, in Louisiana MO, plein air artist, for leaving his easel at the waterfront and driving us to the grocery store and waiting while we shopped, and for his fine conversation.

• The fellow at the Clarksville boat club for inviting us to stay for their annual fish fry, offering to take us to the grocery store, offering us a place to camp, and being an all-round cheerful chap.

• Kate and Carla, whose home is next to the Hamburg town park where we camped, for unbounded hospitality, and whose dinner guests provided us with hours of fine companionship.

Sep 14

• The extended family picnicking at their cabin across the river from Grafton, for welcoming us at the end of a stressful day with open arms, great conversation, fabulous food, showers, and a campsite.

Sep 15

• Larry, at the flooded junction of the Missouri and MIssissippi Rivers, who was taking photos of a cut-out figure for his nephew, for keeping us company with his over-the-top excitement and good cheer while we ate lunch.

• EJ and Julie, who picked us up at the Saint Louis Arch and took us home for a great meal, fabulous companionship, hot showers, and a warm bed.  And for returning us to the river far out of their way the following morning when we learned that the Coast Guard had issued a closure order for the river in the Saint Louis Port area, due to flood conditions.

Sep 17

• At the Trail of Tears State Park boat ramp, the local man with his two small children, for bringing us chairs and visiting with us for a couple hours.  Two couples from the nearby campground, including Bob and Nancy, for providing great companionship while we ate dinner and watched the stream of logs float down the flooded river.  

Sep 18

• Bob and Nancy, who we met the prior night, for meeting us at the Cape Girardeau boat ramp, taking Jim to the grocery store, and providing fine conversation.

• The six folks who assembled at the same boat ramp picnic area while Amy waited for Jim's return, for proving that even down-on-their-luck folks radiate as much kindness and concern as everybody else we had met.

• The young fellow who saw our canoe at the same boat ramp, for coming over to share his story of canoeing this same river in 2013, stopping in Cape Girardeau when the weather got too cold, where he settled in and got a job as a welder.  It was fine to chat with another paddler, of whom we had met precious few.

Sep 20

• The folks hanging out at the New Madrid riverside picnic tables, for helping us haul the canoe out of the water, and offering to look after our gear while we went into town.

Sep 21

• Richie, the five-star nice guy who found us at the Caruthersville boat ramp, for driving Jim to the grocery store, for inviting us to camp at his cousin's downstream beach, for offering to take us home for showers, and for flooding us with encouraging words, both in Caruthersville and later via email and comments in our blog.

Sep 23

• Two men in a car at the isolated Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park boat ramp, for giving us several bottles of water and many encouraging words.

Sep 24

• Jim and the rest of the gracious and friendly staff at the Memphis Yacht Harbor, for permitting paddlers to securely store their boats there free of charge while visiting town.

• The retired towboat worker at the Memphis Yacht Harbor, for telling us stories about life on tows, and for giving us advice about using the commercial channel on the marine radio.

• To Colin, the canoeist we met at the Yacht Harbor, for telling us about two Facebook groups which would prove very useful to us as we continued downstream.

Sep 25

• The receptionist at the Tunica Museum, for welcoming a couple of grubby paddlers, letting us fill our water bottles in her kitchen, and directing us to the all you can eat buffet at the nearby casino.

Sep 26

• Kevin in Helena, one-time thru-paddler of the Mississippi River, for appearing like magic on the street exactly when we needed him, for taking JIm to the grocery store, and for taking the time to research and write a section of the very useful RiverGator.org paddlers guide.

Sep 28

• The family of five at the campground near the entrance to the Greenville Harbor, where we stopped for water, for their extraordinary good cheer.

Sep 30

• Vicksburg local paddler Layne, for responding to our Facebook post asking for assistance and giving us advice about Vicksburg.  Although he was working the day we were there, he emailed and phoned us to make sure we were getting all the help we needed.

• The staff of the Vicksburg Portofino Hotel, for going above and beyond in order to welcome two stinky travelers carrying a canoe into their lobby.

• The proprietor of Martin's Midtown across from the closed laundry in Vicksburg, for leaving her restaurant in the care of a patron in order to drive us to an open laundromat.

• The attendant of the Keyway Supersudz laundromat, for driving us back to our hotel and for giving us a scenic tour of Vicksburg on the way.

Oct 1

• Vicksburg local Paddler Matt, who we met via our Facebook post, for carving time out of his busy day to join us for breakfast and take us to the grocery store, and for being great company and an all-round great guy.

• The bartender at the Natchez Under-the-Hill Saloon, for keeping an eye on our canoe while we ate at the nearby casino.

Oct 4

• Randy, the solo lockmaster on duty at the Old River Lock, for carrying Little Miss Tuffy around the lock in his personal truck, and for being friendly, cheerful, and so helpful.

Oct 5

• Andy, who paddled the river previously, for responding to our Facebook post and providing valuable information about the Atchafalaya.

• Stephen and Dusty, two residents of the Atchafalaya bayous, for extending their hospitality and kind offers of beds, swamp tours, food, and good company.

• Trent, even though he was working offshore, for arranging a warm invitation to stay at Perry's Campground.

• Bob Perry, proprietor of Perry's Campground, for over-the-top kindness, generosity, and hospitality.  A gentleman in every sense of the word.

Oct 6

• Blake, a Cajun local paddler, who we met at the boat ramp in Butte LaRose, for inviting us to stay  at his riverside cabin, where we happily cooked our dinner and slept, sheltered from the ferocious mosquitoes.  

Oct 8

• Paul, tending his crab pots in Wax Lake Outlet, for his good cheer and expert advice about alternate routes.

• Gayle, the campground host at Burns Point Campground, for welcoming us to her campground, letting me use her phone, helping us reserve a car and a room, driving us to New Iberia, and being a fun, upbeat, lively, great person.

• Glenda, Gayle's friend, for providing additional fun, lively conversation on our ride to New Iberia.

• The second campground host at Burns Point, for storing our gear overnight, for managing a calm quiet friendly campground, and for being an all-round friendly helpful guy.

Oct 8 - woohoo

It was important for a sense of completion to reach the open waters of the gulf. That's not all that easy if you need to subsequently find a ride to a town, as most outlets to the gulf leave you far out in the middle if nowhere. Using google satellite imagery, Jim mapped a route that ended at a parish boat ramp and campground out in the open water of a big bay, Burns Point a Recreation Area. Technically a bay, but open water as far as the eye can see. 

The first ~15 miles followed the ruler-straight (i.e. artificially cut) Wax Lake Outlet. The last ten miles of the route had two options. 

Option one, follow that same outlet a few more miles, then 10 miles around a long spit, in open water. It was unclear if this option would work - waves too big in the open water? Tidal mudflats that might lead us into mucky misery?

The second option was to leave the outlet a few miles before the end, and follow a twisted bayou for ten miles, then just a mile or two of open water on the bay, with a backup plan to use a boat ramp prior to reaching the bay if the winds were too strong to canoe in open water. 

At the junction where we needed to choose, we had decided on the conservative bayou route. And just in the nick of time we met Paul Harvey out tending his crab traps. Yep, we did indeed get advice from Paul Harvey. 

This is the best weather we've had in a month. The bayou will get you there, but on a calm day like today, with no afternoon wind in the forecast, it would be beautiful out on the bay. 

We took his advice and it was a swell way to finish. Would have been tough with wind, but we were lucky. 

We arrived at the campground and I went to visit with Gayle, the campground host, and told her we didn't know if we would spend the night because we were going to try to find a lift to New Iberia or Lafayette. 

I finish my seven-day shift at 7:00 and I can take you to New Iberia. 

OK, here's a sixty-nine year old woman who met me 5 minutes ago, and she's offered to drive 15 miles out of her way to take two stinky strangers to town. I'm telling you, this country is packed full of truly generous, trusting, friendly people. From Jim's first hitchhike in Bemidji all the way to our last act of relying on the kindness of strangers, a trip like this would not be possible without folks like Gayle.

Gayle and her friend Glenda were a boatload of fun, and I mean a tug-size boat, not a little bitty canoe. I wish they lived in the Bay Area so I could play cards with them every week. And, Glenda worked for fifteen years in a job James covets - she worked on the parish road crew, driving bulldozers and backhoes and ditch diggers and other big yellow machines. Nothing would please Jim more than to get to do that. 

And so, here I lay, in a comfy B&B in historic New Iberia (hat tip James Lee Burke). Enterprise rental car picks us up at 9:30 tomorrow morning. Then we drive back to the campground to collect our canoe, and begin the drive home. 

The only system failures on our trip: I have two half-broken iPhones. One has no gps, cellular, or data service at all anymore (failed two days ago). And the second has gps and data service but no cellular service. I can use the internet but I can't make a call. And, starting way back in Saint Louis, the top on/off switch doesn't work anymore. So if the phone runs out of power or needs a power-cycle to get unjammed, it's game over since I won't be able to turn it back on. 

Not bad though - 58 days paddling and the two phones are the only things that have not worked out AOK. 

Oh, and Millie has been a hell-of-a travel companion.  We can't wait 'til she tells the rest of the bears about her adventure. 

We are happy and healthy!

We made it!!!!!

A great final day. We just arrived at Burns Point Recreation Area campground. 

We took the Wax Lake Outlet to the gulf, and in perfectly calm weather we paddled 10 miles west around a point to the campground. 

All is great.  

More later. 

Oct 7 - all Cajun bayous

All day paddling in side bayous off the navigable Atchafalaya river, until the very end of the day when we set up camp on the sandy north end of an island bordering the main river.

Alligators by the dozen, probably 40, in the water and on the banks. A dozen little fishing boats. Not enough birds, a mighty disappointment. Perhaps a hundred functional but dilapidated cabins/shacks along the shores, only a couple of which had boats/people. The cabins must be weekend places. The folks in power boats who passed us today were amazingly polite. They always slowed down and often just stopped until we passed. No big wakes to deal with today.

The water had no current (or very negligible) as we are now out in brackish water that we believe is affected by tides. Forward motion is slow, but easy going.

We are oh so glad we are taking this route instead of staying on the big river. This is a great place for paddling. Except for the Mosquitos - they emerged in massive force at nautical twilight five minutes before we were done putting things away. Holy crap. They are thick outside the tent as I type.

If all goes well we will reach the gulf on Wednesday, which will be cause for celebration. We have three warm 10-oz cans of hard cider left in our larder.

We are happy, healthy, and darn near done!

JRY adds: Of course at that point we don't really have a clue as to what to do next. We will be on an isolated point of land at the end of a small road and who knows if it has any traffic. We'll have a canoe and a big pile of gear and no wheels. We may have to paddle another day or two to get back to some kind if town with facilities. And still no way to get back to California. Oh well.

To which Amy adds: well there is a small campground (with power and water) out at the end of that road, Burns Point Recreation Area, and I'm confident somebody there will be kind to us, as the final act of graciousness on a trip full of nice people. We hope to get a ride to Lafayette or New Iberia where we can perhaps rent a car.

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=29.832934,-91.391174(I+Am+Here+Tuesday+October+7+2014+07:39+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11com/maps?q=29.832934,-91.391174(I+Am+Here+Tuesday+October+7+2014+07:39+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Oct 6 - loving the Atch

[delayed posting. This was stuck on an iPhone which failed (lost GPS/phone/data capabilities) before the message went out. Able to send now via WIFI]

 GPS/cellular/dataWe're loving the canoe-appropriate scale of the Atch. A few towns on the river. Nice people who love their region. People are out on the water, unlike the lower Mississippi which was deserted excepting the giant barges. Really nice people. I'm enjoying this a lot. 

We met Blake at lunch at the boat ramp in Butte LaRose. He told us we're welcome to use his river cabin, which happened to come at a good stopping time. So here we are in the heart of Cajun country enjoying famous friendliness. He's not here, so we don't get to continue our brief visit with him. 

We are healthy and happy. 

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=30.225504,-91.584162(I+Am+Here+Monday+October+6+2014+08:02+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Oct 5 - Atchafalaya River, a brief explanation

JRY writes:

Yesterday we posted that we were done with the Mississippi but still paddling. How can that be, you might ask. Here is what is happening.

The Miss enters the Gulf as a classic bird's foot delta: the big river splits into multiple distributaries as it flows out into the sedimentary delta it has built for itself upon reaching the Gulf. One of the current largest of these distributaries is the Atchafalaya, which has already captured the Red River and its flow. The Atch hydraulically "wants" to be the main drain for the Miss into the Gulf. And it would be if humans, starting in the 19th century, hadn't prevented nature from taking its course.

The problem with letting the river do what physics says it should is all the human infrastructure and commerce dependent on the Miss flowing to the Gulf as a navigable river.  Let the Atch capture the Miss and Baton Rouge and New Orleans would be landlocked. Can't let that happen, so the Army Corps of Engineers has spent vast amounts of public dollars keeping the Atch from becoming the main course of the the Miss. All that prevents river capture from happening are a bunch of concrete "control structures" and a lock with a 15 foot drop from the Miss to the Atch. It seems inevitable that in the long (or not so long) run, the Atch will get its way and become the exit for the Miss whether we like it or not. (For a more detailed and much more literate explanation, read John McPhee's superb The Control of Nature.)

This a long winded explanation for our decision to finish our paddle to the Gulf down the Atch, the "real" exit distributary.  We also chose this route because the heavy industrial areas from Baton Rouge south just aren't appealing, dealing with tows is challenging but dealing with ocean-going tankers is not our preferred option,    

New Orleans isn't easily accessible to paddlers anyway, and the wild lower reaches of the Atch are supposed to be a fantastic place to visit. Many other paddlers have made the same choice and every one who did recommends the Atch as the exit of choice.

So the question remains, if  we do reach the Gulf, have we paddled the Mississippi?  You decide.

Amy adds:  camped at Perry's Campground, river mile 46. Bobby Perry (photos below) is a true gentleman and welcomed us with open arms. Only two little dinky two-barge tows today. This river is about the size of the Mississippi River in Saint Louis, a modest big river, not a giant. Sun and mild temps today, but annoying headwind. Fabulous lunch special from the grocery/hardware/deli in Melville!

We are healthy and happy. 

Good night papa, I love you. 

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=30.496666,-91.759812(I+Am+Here+Sunday+October+5+2014+09:49+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Oct 4 - bye bye big river

We left the big river today. For me (Amy) it is a relief. Although I was getting increasingly comfortable with the big river and the big tows, I still did not feel completely at ease, especially given a forecast for more wind. It was very beautiful, and in nearly every way exceeded my expectations. But I never quite felt like Little Miss Tuffy was the right scale for that big river (south if Cairo) and her giant tows.

See the second photo, taken just a day after we
passed the exact same spot. Credit: Layne Logue photographer. Kevin Lynch in the canoe, just before passing under the Vicksburg bridge, posted on Facebook's Lower Mississippi River Paddlers page. I love this photo for many reasons, especially the contrast between size of the tiny red canoe and the giant river.

The other photo is Jim with Randy the Old River Lockmaster.
Jim: Old River Lock, this is downbound recreational canoe requesting lock-through.
Response: did you say canoe?
Jim: correct, canoe.
Response: how many people?
Jim: two people, one canoe.
Response: meet me at the boat ramp, I'll bring my truck and we'll get you over.

Less than five minutes later Randy arrived at the ramp. He had two tows in the queue (commercial boats get higher priority), and was the only guy working the lock, but instead of making us wait he just loaded our stuff and the canoe on his truck and took us to the other side of the lock. Every single lock guy this trip has been courteous and helpful. Randy was cheerful, conversant, helpful, and good-natured. And his willingness to put our canoe cross-wise on the bed of his personal short-bed truck, saved us hours of waiting or a half mile portage.

So we now are in our final phase. Through the famous Atchafalaya swamp, final home of the possibly extinct Ivory Billed Woodpecker. Alligators. Cajun cooking. Friendly people. Smaller river and smaller tows.

JRY comments:
I'm both sad to leave the big river because in some ways the big adventure is now over and all that is left to do is few more days of relatively easy paddling down to the Gulf. However, I also feel that we have learned most of what the big river is about and need to move on to something more in scale with our little canoe. The river is just so huge that at this point it is hard to relate to it on a personal level. It is kind of overwhelming if you think about it too much. 500,000 cubic feet per second is a lot of water. We have now finished paddling 2000 river miles since putting in 54 days ago at the south end of Lake Itasca in Minnesota.

We are happy and healthy and camped at the boat ramp in Simmesport.

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=30.968130,-91.807998(I+Am+Here+Saturday+October+4+2014+08:32+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Oct 3 - calm wind = happiness

As a fair weather traveler I'm happy to report that the weather today was glorious and everybody is happy again. We had a bit of strong wind and a crackerjack thunderstorm last night, but we were snug in the tent and happy to have the cooling effect of the rain. We were camped in a forest of wild persimmon trees. Many fruits the size of walnuts fell on our tent during the storm. Thud, thud, thud.

First Roseate Spoonbills today, and first Cypress trees on the riverbank. I think this means we've finally reached the Deep South. The staff guy at the hotel in Vicksburg said he doesn't think Vicksburg is in the Deep South - it's all relative. 

It was a normal day. Our only variant was a lunch stop in Natchez. All reports are that it's a beautiful and interesting town, but the only thing we did was the $7 AYCE lunch at the aptly named Pig Out Buffet restaurant on the riverboat casino. Calories are good!

We're camped at river mile 339. The lock to the Atchafalaya is at river mile 305, so if all goes well we'll leave the Mighty Mississippi tomorrow afternoon. Then we have a week or so in the Atchafalaya river/swamp, which might be a big change. There might even be lots of bird diversity!

We are happy and healthy. 

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=31.278502,-91.510369(I+Am+Here+Friday+October+3+2014+06:29+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Oct 2 - it's the weather stupid

Nope, it's not all about the economy, it's all about the weather. We didn't get any thunderstorms today (forecast was 50%), but they are due tonight. In the second image we are the pin with the purple dot near the bottom. The pink area, extending from about Vicksburg to Cairo, is tornado watch. North of that is severe thunderstorm watch. And north of that is flash flood advisory, and north of that is severe wind advisory. Essentially the entire Mississippi River starting 30 miles north of us has a NWS advisory. It's possible we'll dodge this bullet. 

But the brewing storm had its impact. We had headwinds the whole damn day. This morning they were annoying but manageable. This afternoon they were strong enough to build whitecaps and make the river unsafe (in my assessment) to cross in Little Miss Tuffy. 

When you can't cross and are committed to one side, then you alternate between inside bend (easy place to be - sandy shore, far from tows, calm but slow water) and outside bend (tougher - steep banks with revetment makes landing difficult or darn near impossible, closer to chop caused by passing tows since the channel follows the deeper water on the outside of the bend, faster more turbulent water).

After lunch we paddled right bank, until I (Amy) called it quits. Out in the current, 100 feet from shore, it was too turbulent with breaking choppy waves. And close to shore was one eddy after another, so we were paddling against a strong headwind in the backflow of eddies. Yuck. We were in a four mile stretch of revetment, so no good places to set up camp. We found an adequate break in the revetment where we could pull the canoe out in sand. Not an attractive camp, but functional. River mile 383.  35 hard-earned miles. 

In unfavorable paddling conditions like this I prefer to stop and wait it out (we have no deadline) and Jim generally prefers to keep moving forward even if it's slow and challenging (why not keep at it?).

On a different topic, about the British rowers whinging about this and that. I have a theory. Everybody we've met paddling is having a really satisfying trip - this is a lot of fun. People do it because it is enjoyable. My theory is that if you take a vacation and call it a fund-raiser, then you have to report all the ways you are suffering. "It's tough as hell and we're miserable, but we will not let you down, we will persevere for the cause."  You can hardly say "I'm having a great time on my vacation. Please send money."  Any kind of adversity will do and yesterday the Brits reported that they were enduring a major mosquito attack (with photographic proof of their wounds!!) but would carry on nonetheless. Stiff upper lip and all of that.  (I provided a link to their post yesterday. If you read it, did you also wonder why he didn't put on shoes when his feet were getting bitten?)

I'm kind of curmudgeonly on this topic, but I'd rather see somebody say: I'm going to donate the $100 grand that I considered spending on an expedition, and instead of taking that vacation I'm donating four months of my time and expertise to a worthy cause. Now that would be a role model and an inspiration!

We are healthy, hot, muggy, and frustrated be the less-than-ideal weather. It's true, I am a fair weather outdoor enthusiast. When the going gets tough, yours truly wants to wait until tomorrow. Jim on the other hand enjoys the challenge and satisfaction of finding a way forward no matter the obstacles. 

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=31.853414,-91.377605(I+Am+Here+Thursday+October+2+2014+07:34+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Oct 1 - p.s. Extra bonus post

We paddled and ate pizza with Adam much earlier this trip and enjoyed his company. We read his blog each night. We particularly like this recent post: 

http://adamlars.blogspot.com/2014/10/great-cities-great-people.html?m=1

Way to go Adam!

Compare his post to the whinging English rowers on their very high budget trip, whose posts we also read each night:

http://www.mississippimillion.com/2014/09/two-quick-things/

Oct 1 - nice people type two, and trash

Spent the morning in Vicksburg. Matt H met us at 9:00, we stopped for breakfast and then had a grocery extravaganza at a great Kroger. Matt was going to take us to the NPS Battlefield Site, but his daughter's school called about a sick little girl, and kids come first, always. 

Matt is a type two nice person. We've been writing a lot about type one nice people - the random strangers we meet on the street (or in some cases knock on the door) who are so generous with their time, their yards, their showers, their companionship, and their cheerful company. 

We've just discovered the second type - the community of local paddlers (or friends thereof) who monitor the Facebook groups (Mississippi River Paddlers and Lower Mississippi River Paddlers) and offer help and advice. We posted to that group just prior to arrival in Vicksburg, and two Vicksburg paddlers immediately offered to help. Matt, with whom we spent the morning, has a full time job and two small children, so it's not like he's bored and trying to fill his time. When somebody tells you social media is a lot of cluttered trivial distraction, you tell them that Amy and Jim have a case in point to prove there is an exception!

About trash - we've said it before, and it remains true. There is darn near zero trash on the riverbanks. Astonishing. Amazing. It must be the case that individuals and communities in all the upstream tributaries just do not back up the truck and dump their loads over the edge. I thought we'd be seeing plastic crap that floats down, catches in an eddy, and settles out on shore. Not true. Except - this is our second campsite with a plastic milk crate! No other trash of any type. Just one super convenient chair for our little kitchen and dining area!  See Jim in the first photo. 

Second photo shows Jim finishing dinner, with a tow passing in the. background. 

Camped, again, on a five star sand bank, river mile 418. Other than the passing tows, we are paddling through miles and miles and miles of quiet, isolated, lazy, big and beautiful river with beaches that rival the best beaches we've ever seen. 

Short on birds, true, but that's almost certainly a seasonal problem. The songbirds are done breeding so nobody is singing or busy feeding kids. The migrating waterfowl are not here yet. 

A friend wrote us that she determined (in a moment of conflict) that on a long road trip with a partner each day is worth 7.5 days of normal marriage. Sounds about right. In our 51 days of paddling together we have had 382.5 days worth of marital life:  joy, boredom, affection, irritation, occasional severe anger, disagreements, mindless chatter, profound insights, silent pauses, pillow talk, and musings about how our bears are doing. We like each other a lot and are lucky we found each other.

We are healthy, happy, hot, muggy. Rain and cooler temps in the forecast for the next few days. We had mild to moderate headwind for our afternoon paddle today, hopefully the coming storm doesn't include strong wind - it's a drag. 

JRY factoid:

We went to the Army Corps of Engineers Mississippi museum today and learned a bit more about tows. A fully loaded barge displaces 1550 tons so a 6 x 7 tow displaces over 65,000 tons, or about the same as an Iowa class battleship, the largest the US ever commissioned.

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=32.125528,-91.049540(I+Am+Here+Wednesday+October+1+2014+08:03+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Sep 30 - Vicksburg hotel and tows

JRY writes:

We arrived in Vicksburg around 4 this afternoon and got a room in a hotel next to the boat ramp (1 mile up the Yazoo River from the Mighty Miss.) Showers! Wonderful to be clean again. Now laundry and then a hot meal.  It is a trifle weird to be in civilization again.

This morning started with a real tow fest. At least 9 tows in the first 90 minutes, going in both directions, some passing upstream and some downstream. It all worked out and we were never in a position to take much chop and churn.  We've learned how to forecast the parts of the river to avoid during a tow fest - the places where the churning wakes reverberate off the revetments.

We can listen in on our marine radio to the tow captains discussing their intentions with the other boats. These things are so big and ponderous (a tow might be six barges wide by seven barges long and stretch for over a thousand feet in length; the tows themselves can develop over 11,000 horsepower) and are so hard to steer that before anyone passes anyone else in either direction, the logistics are worked out well in advance between the pilots.  Often arrangements are made miles ahead of the actual event and before the tows are even in sight of each other.  

Everyone is really polite: no profanity except for the occasional "well hell". Conversations are short without much frivolity but the tone is very friendly. All done in a casual conversational manner without radio claptrap like "roger this" or   

"over and out" and spoken in a sort of southern airline pilot drawl. "See you on the one; I'ah shore 'ppreciate thet." "Awl rite. Y'all have a safe journey north."

Passing right to right is one whistle or "on the one" and left to left is two whistles or "on the two".  This lingo dates back to steamboat days when pilots would signal other boats their intentions to each other by blowing their steam whistles.

These guys are real pros but very laid back about it, at least over the radio, although I suspect that they are paying careful attention for every second of their watch. I never feel threatened by these things: everything seems so precise and controlled, like giant elephants doing ballet.

We got a hotel room in Vicksburg, our first of the trip. We prefer camping, but there's no place to do that here, and it's time to stop for laundry and groceries. The hotel is a block from the boat ramp, and we used the baggage cart!

Nice people here too. The hotel guided us to a laundromat that's actually a dry cleaner and is closed. We asked at the neighborhood restaurant across the street, and the owner left the bar to give us a two mile ride. Then, while washing our clothes I chatted with the proprietor. He offered to give us a lift back to hotel. Very generous. 

Tomorrow a fellow we met on Facebook Lower Mississippi River Paddlers group has offered to meet up with us to take us to the grocery store. We're eager to meet a local river rat.

We are healthy, happy, and clean. 

Sep 29 - Inspiration

JRY writes:

Two milestones today on what was a very uneventful day of 50 miles of river travel. The weather was again benign and the tows were no more troublesome than they ever are. Milestone one was passing the 1800 river miles paddled mark: only a few hundred more to go before we reach the Gulf. The second event was leaving Arkansas and entering Louisiana, the last of the ten states that make up the Mississippi corridor.

Why are we doing this? As some of you know, we enjoy long distance human powered travel adventures. We have completed a few long bike and very many long walking trips. To learn about new walking opportunities we read trip reports on the BackpackingLight.com forums. We also publish our own reports and exchange information with other folks like us.

Along the way, we became acquainted with Christine (aka GermanTourist), a highly accomplished long distance traveler with a vast and stellar experience base. We have shared info back and forth with her for several years now. Late last year I was checking out her website and noticed her trip report about her paddle down the Mississippi in a kayak. I mentioned this to Amy and remarked that if Christine had done this, we might be able to as well. It would be a new mode of travel for us in a part of the country we didn't know well and would otherwise likely not ever spend much time in. Amy immediately said "Why not" so here we are, ensconced in our tent on a sand bar in northern Louisiana (river mile 481), little Miss Tuffy wrapped in her nighttime cover, listening to the evening tows chug by. So, thanks so much Christine for offering the inspiration and example for the trip. It has been great following your paddle splashes down the river.

Amy writes: today is the first day since Saint Louis that I felt like I could possibly get used to this big river. We only passed a couple grain elevators or other working docks, and neither had active harbor tugs to scare me away. The wind was benign and the water calm as it has been since leaving Saint Louis. The river continues to drop a foot or so a day, so there are beautiful big (sometimes a couple miles long) sandbars. The river is half it's prior width in these sandbar areas and so is less intimidating. And furthermore, we now have only 178 miles to reach the lock where we will cross to the Atchafalaya - maybe five days! When we cross there will be new worries, alligators and how to camp in a swamp are on that list, but the river is much smaller and the commercial traffic is minor.

We are healthy and happy.

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=32.736028,-91.116337(I+Am+Here+Monday+September+29+2014+07:49+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Sep 28 - a normal day

No rain after all. And some wind, but not problematic, so that is AOK.

Camped on a huge sand island, river mile 533, elevation 95 feet.

Today was unexceptional, just a nice day on the water. Excepting for one heated argument which we recovered from. We passed Greenville, but the town ramp is two miles up a harbor busy with barge activity, and there's no yacht club where we could leave the boat. So instead we pulled over at the county campground, situated right on the river at the harbor entrance, to refill water. Had a nice conversation with a family out for Sunday family time, otherwise it was just the two of us chickens.

It seems appropriate to have today's post describe our basic day.

5:45 alarm. Yoghurt in the tent. Break camp, repack the canoe, and start paddling around sunrise at 6:45 or 7:00.

Clif bars in the canoe. Watch for tows and get out the way of any that might come too close. Paddle until we stop for lunch, sometime between 11:30 and 1:00. Lunch is under a tree (too warm to sit in sun) on a sandy beach. Tuna, cheese, nuts, dry and fresh fruit, crackers, chips and salsa, chocolate. Jim spends ten futile minutes looking in the woods for songbirds, which almost never appear. Back on the water within an hour.

Constantly check the maps to pick our route: river right, river left, in or out of the main channel, cut this bend or not, take this back channel or not.

Afternoon paddle until we stop for the night, sometime between 4:30 and 6:00. With the water level lower now, and the enormous sand bars exposed, finding and preparing a site has been easy.

At camp, Jim spends another futile 10 minutes looking for songbirds, then sets up the tent. Amy cooks dinner - pasta or rice, canned chicken or Little Smokies (wieners), zuke and tomato, cranberries, pumpkin or sunflower seeds. With a seasoning pack or cooked in a pint of pretty good soup. Eat & wash the dishes. Organize tomorrow's maps and data sheets. By this time the sun has set and the Mosquitos come out, so we scurry to put everything away, then climb in the tent. Hunt down the mosquitoes that have gotten inside.

Jim puts on his music and relaxes. He does the daily bird list (which usually doesn't take too long) and writes down the day's events in his notebook. I (Amy) type this post. Then Jim reads what I've typed and fixes typos and sometimes adds more substance.

North of Saint Louis the routine had a favorable twist. We stopped in one or two towns each day - for some combination of lunch, ice cream, camp, groceries, or just to visit with nice random people.

We are paddling for about 9 hours a day. Surprising that I'm really not tired or sore physically, just occasional elbow pain. Not as physically demanding as hiking for nine hours a day. But, for Amy, it is mentally much more demanding.

If we had our druthers Jim would paddle another hour and eat dinner after sunset. And I would stop an hour earlier so I had time to bath in the river and sit still and watch the world. Jim is invigorated by the sense of persistent forward motion! I, on the other hand, enjoy some down time, with nothing going on.

We are healthy and strong and recovering from our squabble.

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=33.324369,-91.261280(I+Am+Here+Sunday+September+28+2014+07:47+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Sep 27 - fears disclosed

We may get rain tomorrow, which would be the first rain in perhaps two weeks. And maybe wind too. We had 30 minutes of stiff breeze today, and it reminded me that I dislike it. It was nothing like the strong wind we had back in MN,WI, and IA, but enough to be frustrating, and to make me worry about future scenarios.

Five star camp on a huge sand flat, just downstream from Rosedale Mississippi, river mile 577. The river corridor continues to be scenic, with very few grain elevators or other industrial clutter. Now that the water level has dropped there are extensive beautiful sandbars.

Now I (Amy) am ready to come clean. I am not yet at ease with being on the river with the tows and the harbor tugs. The tows are slow moving and generally (not always) predictable. The harbor tugs are unpredictable and therefore make me very nervous. Harbor tugs move one barge at a time, for example to put an empty barge under the grain elevator loader, or to assemble 35 barges into a 5x7 unit so a tow can take it away. We have tows all day, maybe a dozen pass each day while we are paddling. Harbor tugs are very localized. High stress for me when present, but infrequent.

So my angst about these big boats means I can't let my mind relax. And I'm often nervous about paddling in the navigation channel (best current) even when no tows are around (although gaining comfort).

My nervousness is causing a healthy dose of conflict, as Jim wants to stay in the best current. I often want to stay to one side or the other, so I'm not in the channel should a tow magically appear. And we face this choice repeatedly, all day long.

We can almost always see at least a mile forward and a mile back (often two or three). Tows move at about 10 mph max and a lot slower some of the time, so it's not like a tow can just pop up in our path. The tows must stay inside the deeper water of the dredged navigation channel, marked with red nun and green can buoys, they can't just wander around willy nilly. But rational analysis doesn't really help. I have a dear friend who is afraid of flying, even though she knows cars are far more risky. I have another dear friend who is afraid of the dentist, even though he knows nobody does in the dentists chair. Go figure.

My nervousness is visceral, not rational. We are doing really well making Miss Tuffy go where we want her to go. The water levels have dropped substantially, so the river is slow moving. There are no more random floating logs. Our weather this past week or 10 days has been absolutely perfect. The water is often smooth and almost glassy and it is a beautiful scene. And yet I can't shake images of barges running over us. I'm giving voice to the fear so that I'm not keeping any secrets.

So there you have it. Sharing a canoe is an exercise in mutual understanding, and it's not always easy to stay synchronized.

We remain healthy, and excepting my angst our trip is going fabulously well.

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=33.743587,-91.139760(I+Am+Here+Saturday+September+27+2014+06:22+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Sep 26 - Helena Take 2: Redemption

James writes:

Yesterday we wrote about failed quest for groceries in Helena Arkansas. That evening we reviewed all the possibilities for buying food down river over the next few days and identified no good options. So we decided to recross the river in the morning and I would try to get to the distant store one way or the other.

I walked into town and found a lot more activity: kids were arriving for school by car and bus and there were folks on the sidewalks. I saw a couple of young women across the street getting into, of all things, a Prius. They were followed by an older gentleman. I thought that this looked like a good prospect for assistance to a grubby river rat. I went over and told the man who I was and what we were doing and asked if he could help me get to a store. He said he had to drop his daughters off at school but would return shortly.

He did, introduced himself as Kevin, and offered me a ride to the store. Then, to my utter amazement calmly told me that he had canoed the entire river himself when he was a young man and so understood exactly our problem and was happy to help us out. The chances of me crossing paths with him seem infinitely tiny, but there you are.  He took me to the market, waited while I shopped, and returned me to the boat ramp, Amy, and little Miss Tuffy with my newly acquired pack full of food. Kevin is an insurance agent and had been a state senator for ten years.  He wrote a section of the RiverGator.org Lower Mississippi notes we have been using and have found so helpful. We talked about his and our river experiences and a bit about his kids.  I believe he said he is the only resident of this city who has paddled the whole river. 

River angels appear when least expected and when they are really needed.  We have been so fortunate to have met so many and are deeply grateful to them all.  They have made our trip so much better and helped remind us of how many kind and generous people are out there. Kevin, our deepest appreciation for your time and consideration.

(Note to other paddlers: Kevin told us that the park at the boat ramp on the east side of the harbor is a fine safe place to camp. The road to that area is closed at night, so the drunken louts can't bother you out there. Use the boat ramp on the west side to access town, and then paddle over to the east side to spend the night.)

Amy writes:

Another calm sunny day on a placid river.

Five star campsite on sand flat with nine miles of river spread before us. River mile 623. No noises - no grain elevators, no power plants, no trains, no roads. Each passing northbound tow makes noise for nearly an hour as it chugs and churns its way up-current. Southbound tows are faster and quieter as the engines don't need to do so much work. 

Kevin told us that the section of river south from Helena is the nicest section on the Lower Mississippi, and it would be hard to disagree. 

After lunch we were slowly passed by a slow moving southbound tow pushing 12 barges full of rocks. We followed him for perhaps an hour, then passed him when we took a tight inside bend. (The channel and the faster flow is on the outside of the bend, but sometimes the inside shortcut saves enough distance that it's faster even though there is little current.) Then he passed us again. We had had him in our sights for 2 hours at this point, and he was the only tow all afternoon. Our radio was on and we heard him making arrangements to pass a northbound tow. Then he announced to the other tow that there was a canoe following him, and received comment back that the northbounder would be on the lookout for us. I got on the radio and announced our intentions, which they appreciated. We then had an hour of continuous tow traffic, 4 or 5 going in each direction. Sometimes it seems they form little logjams; we'll go two hours with no tows, and then have 4 or 5 in 45 minutes. 

We chatted with a retired tow guy at the Memphis Yacht Club about protocols for recreational canoes for talking on the commercial channel 13. He said no problem, especially if I (Amy) did the talking, as they don't have many conversations with females during their 30-day shifts. 

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=34.157901,-90.936990(I+Am+Here+Friday+September+26+2014+08:02+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

SPOT Tracking our location

We carry a SPOT tracker so you can see our current location.  These devices have a reputation for failing (we've had two die), so if it goes silent it means the device has died, it does not mean we have a problem. 

http://tinyurl.com/luxxgkh

Or, the full URL:

http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=0ecLfMlFzRSTMAUzQyKyunGxTcArU9Vm2

Sep 25 - food

More perfect weather! And more straight-forward paddling on calm water.

As I've said, the towns down here are rarely on the river. So resupply for food is more of an issue.

We bought a lot if food in Caruthersville (thanks Richie), and we have enough for four more days. We hadn't had a sit down meal since we left Saint Louis 10 days ago.

So today we stopped at the Tunica River park (museum), where there is a safe place to tie the boat, and we walked five minutes to the casino for an all you can eat buffet. Food was pretty crummy, and the slots were a'whirring, but we ate a lot!

Then at about 5:00 we pulled into Helena. We thought there was a grocery store a mile from the boat ramp, but Jim's inquiries turned up nothing nearby, and no offers to help. The Walmart and other grocery stores are 5 miles away. No bus or taxi service. We probably could have found something by going to the bars and asking bartenders if we could pay somebody to take us. But we had a complication. Helena doesn't feel like the kind of place where you camp next to the boat ramp (e.g. bars on the door and windows at the convenience store). The town is industrial and past it's prime. So we needed to get back on the river in order to find an isolated (no roads) beach before sunset. We left town with nothing.

So we paddled across the river to a beach and studied all our data to figure out where we can buy food. We have enough for four more days.

One option is to stop at the riverside campground in Greenville and hope the campground host there will help us hire a ride to the store. Another option is to stop at a tiny store in a tiny town which is a mile from an isolated boat ramp (can't leave Miss Tuffy alone there).

This is kind of a hassle - the fact that the stores are all on the outskirts of town, and it's not safe to leave a boat. Yuck. Now I better appreciate the strategy of the 18 year old paddler earlier this year who called ahead to churches to ask for assistance.

We are healthy, and enjoying being on the water. I (Amy) am missing the frequent small friendly waterfront towns north of Saint Louis.

Good night papa, I love you.

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=34.512641,-90.577079(I+Am+Here+Thursday+September+25+2014+09:18+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11

Sep 24 - miscellaneous

About four weeks back we had pizza with a paddler named Adam. Today his mom sent us his blog URL, which we're happy to have:

http://adamlars.blogspot.com

We stopped at the Memphis yacht harbor for water and had a good visit with the friendly staff. They see 70-80 paddlers per year come through on various trips. It's reported to be one of only a couple safe places on the lower Mississippi to leave a boat unattended, so I think everybody stops there. While there we met a solo canoeist who started on the Wisconsin River with a fixed-mast sail, outrigged pontoons with daggerboards, rowing platform with oars, and a bicycle. Our little miss Tuffy looks lean and sleek next to his rig. 

The British fellows in rowing skiffs are having a very elaborate trip, with a support vehicle with boat trailer taking them each night to a hotel. On their blog today they posted that they have 500 (missing) miles of error in their river mileage calculations. We think there might have been some stern words exchanged!  Hard to imagine, given the amount of planning they did (including two purpose built mahogany boats at $30k each). 

http://www.mississippimillion.com/2014/09/a-new-enemy-and-some-recalculations/

Another perfect weather day!  Camped on a fine sandy bank, quiet with no nearby industrial noise, river mile 714. 

Fewer miles today - delayed by a short unplanned portage over a wing dam, the stop in Memphis, and some waiting on the sidelines while 4 tows passed. Each tow adds churn, and when more than one goes by the waves bounce off the revetments and off the parked barges and build into some unpleasant disorganized chaos. We were on the side of the river that took the hit, so it was worth waiting in an eddy of calmer water. 

We made an error in judgement and took a long back-channel that ended in an army corps dike - we assessed that it was to risky to run the rapids through the gaps in the dike. So we farted around and portaged over the top of it.  Tedious and annoying. The water level has dropped so much that back-channels are probably mostly now inaccessible. 

We are healthy and all is going well!  

Dinner tonight: can of salmon, a tomato, an apple, some raisins, half a zuke, and some precooked seasoned whole grain medley, and a hefty dose of sunflower seeds. Cooked together in a stew. Not too bad. 

https://maps.google.com/maps?q=34.981658,-90.291129(I+Am+Here+Wednesday+September+24+2014+08:29+PM)&iwloc=A&z=11