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 with my head spinning after a night of shotguns and pulls of "Uncle Jim". The crew of hunters that I had been celebrating with…
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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 was able to get on the water early this morning. The goal was to make a big push toward salt water in hopes of setting myself up to reach the Gulf tomorrow night.
It was a calm and sunny day in southern Louisiana, the first day of December. Traffic has significantly slowed at this point of the river. Large freighters and cargo ships still cruise by fairly regularly, but for the first time since Baton Rouge I was able to experience calmness. No stress caused by boat traffic in the "bee colonies" of the busy ports. Just me paddling a massive river, trees on either side, and a few boats cruising by now and again.
At 10:30 I made a pit stop to refill water and food. DJ's one stop, a small convince store in Ponite à la Hache, LA. This should be the last supply run before reaching the Gulf.
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I had hoped to get an early start on the water this morning. Once the 6:15am alarm rang I peeked my head out of the tent to find dense, low lying fog engulfing the river. I calmly laid my head back onto my pillow and drifted off. This process replayed itself three or so more times before I found the fog burning off. Satisfied with the conditions, I made a quick breakfast and hit the water.
While still busy, the traffic today has considerably slowed down (thankfully). I still have cargo ships, freighters and barges buzzing by, but at this point both edges of the river are open. No containers moored to either side.
I got a lot of love on the water today. A horn toot from a towboat, lots of waves from folks on the shores and cheers from workers on the docks. At one point, a massive cargo ship passed me on the left side. On my right a ferry was docked, and the worker ushering cars onboard gave me a calm wave. I then heard a voice yelling from a distance. As I looked to my left the captain of the cargo ship (true to form in his all white captain "uniform") and another were out on the catwalk that extends from the cockpit. One fellow was waving his arms emphatically back and forth, yelling my way. I gave him a big wave, fist pump and thumbs up back. They loved it. A few horn blows later they passed, and on the stern of the vessel was painted "HONG KONG", their home port.
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Another gorgeous day awaited me as I packed up camp on the gator print sandbar. Once on the water the day consisted of avoiding large barges and ocean going cargo ships. A slight breeze from the south created a light headwind that seemed to turn on and off as I weaved the large "S" curves of the river, gaining a wind barrier from time to time.
A half hour or so before sunset I pulled off the water in a peculiar spot. A thin patch of trees stood in front of the levy near the small town of Welcome, LA. Tying my boat up to the rocky shore I unloaded and set up the hammock between two trees, as no flat space was available for a tent. With the sounds and lights of barges, tow boats, ocean vessels, cranes, grain elevators and industry busing about I laid down and fell asleep.
Solid day. Looking forward to getting past New Orleans soon.
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I woke up with the sunrise as barges worked back and forth under an orange sky in the Port of Baton Rouge. Before pushing off for the day and leaving the capital of Louisiana behind I needed a water refill and food resupply.
I walked out from the forest I was camped in, trotted over the levy, and put my skateboard to the pavement. Following a cup of coffee and an egg, Swiss and ham croissant at PJ's coffee shop I located a small market downtown. With a backpack full of groceries and empty water containers I skated back toward home base. On the way I spotted a water fountain off the bike path and filled up my 3 water jugs (that started the trip in Minnesota as plastic apple juice containers) and a 2 gallon collapsible container that had been given to me by John Sullivan all the way back in La Crosse, WI.
I was able to push off into the river around 10:30am. Traffic in the Port of Baton Rouge was busy, with barges and tow boats constantly moving back and forth, and massive ocean going vessels moored up to the loading docks. As I paddled through the Port I weaved back and forth between the two shores doing my best to avoid the commotion
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What a great stop in Baton Rouge. I took in town, explored campus, met tons of good folks and even lucked into a ticket to the LSU game, tailgate included. Amazing time. Great people who welcomed me in with open arms. I also had Gumbo and fried alligator - a true Louisiana delicacy!
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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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I woke up to nearby gunshots just before sunrise. A pair of duck hunters had set up within the vicinity. Despite the barking of a 12 gauge, I slept in a bit and got up on my own time.
After breakfast and breaking down the tent I packed up the boat on a muddy edge and pushed off into the river.
A sunny but cool day awaited. A slight wind from the south blew in at a 45 degree angle.
Late in the day, I noticed something moving quickly along the West Bank. It looked like a running dog. As I got closer I realized it was a full sized healthy coyote. Dark grey in color with a big bushy tail, the coyote sprinted along the edge of the water for 50 yards or so before turning up into the forest.
I passed the St. Francisville bridge around 4pm. Just down river two industrial plants held court on the rivers edge. The plant on the eastern shore omitted an unpleasant smell, similar to natural gas. As the wind blew at my back, the smell carried along.
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After a chilly night in the low 30s I woke up to condensation drowning the inside of my tent. Packing it up wet, I quickly made oatmeal and coffee and did my best to get an early start to the day.
The sun shone through a group of clouds for an hour or two in the morning. Once it disappeared, however, it was gone for the rest of the day. With little wind I was able to make good distance through the sunless afternoon.
At 11am I made a call to one of my Illinois classrooms, which was ended early due to poor service. At 2:45pm I chatted with one of my South Dakota classrooms.
As I was talking to the kids in South Dakota, I floated past the final state border of the trip- the Mississippi/ Louisiana line. From southern Minnesota to this point, there has always been two states to choose from, one state on the eastern bank of the river, and one on the west. After crossing the last state line of the trip, however, its one State until the Gulf- Louisiana.
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I took the weekend off in Natchez, MS. Each day I had planned to leave in the AM, but wind, poor weather and good folk kept me in town. A beautiful historic town, Natchez has been one of my favorite stops yet.
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The alarm on my phone rang at 4:30am. The plan was to wake up early, pack up and hit the water while still dark in hopes of enjoying a sunrise paddle. I begrudgingly poked my head outside and took note of two things. One, the sky was covered in clouds, two, a barge was cruising by on the far shore, almost invisible other than a small red light on the first container and the back of the towboat lit up.
With the cloud cover I decided a sunrise paddle would be better severed another day. I laid my head back into the winter jacket that serves as my pillow and happily fell asleep.
Once up, around 7am I made breakfast and packed quickly, wanting to give myself as much time as possible to reach my goal for the day, Natchez Mississippi.
The first part of the morning was spent looking for mile markers, hoping to gauge wether or not Natchez was possible to reach by dusk. Around 10am I spotted a marker on the Louisiana shore and broke out the binoculars to hone in on the numbers. 399. With Natchez at mile 364, I knew the goal was reachable with some effort.
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I lifted my head up from the hammock to take note of the orange hue engulfing the eastern sky. A few moments later, still comfortably hanging between two trees, the top of the sun shown through the forest.
After watching the sunrise from the confines of my hammock I got up, did a bit of writing and made breakfast. Two or so hours later I was packed up and ready to hit the water. I began my paddling day by tuning into to what has become one of my favorite ways to pass time on the water, listening to the Joe Rogan podcast. I find his show to be entertaining, enlightening and on par with the way I see the world, yet open enough to challenge preconceived notions. I dig it. Plus, at around three hours a show, it's a great way to eat up some time.
A warm day in the upper 60s, the sun ducked in and out of cover, hiding behind clouds before shining through a gap in the atmospheric moisture, then repeating the process. In the early afternoon I passed Vicksburg, MS.
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After a late night star gazing and enjoying the warmth of a fire I decided to take a slow morning. I slept in, did a bit of writing and enjoyed the sun rising over Mississippi.
Once wrapped up with my morning routine I pushed off from my sandbar and began the pilgrimage south. It was a warm day, in the upper 60s, however, after a short stint of morning sun a flat layer of clouds blanketed the sky, leaving our nearest star out of sight. A soft headwind met me for much of the day. Like the morning, I took the day slow, pausing every once in a while to take in the sounds and scenery of the south.
As evening approached I found camp on a small sandy bank butted up to a forest on the rivers eastern edge. A flock of geese spooked as I coasted in. I was close enough to hear the sound of their wings flapping and the air moving around them. Walking to set up camp I noticed several prints in the sand. Deer hoofs imprinted from the forest to the waters edge. Large bird tracks, likely a heron, stomped about.
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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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Rain tapped the tarp overhead that covered my tent. A small part of me was content because it gave me a good excuse to stay in bed. When I came to about an hour later the rain had stopped, giving me the all clear to get the day started.
I made oatmeal and coffee as I did my best to let the tent dry before packing it away. Clouds hid the sun despite a warm day in the low 60s.
Once packed up and ready to push off a drizzle began to fall. Not enough of a rain to get you soaked, but enough to mist over the sunglasses on my face. Shortly after it started, the sprinkles stopped. This would be a pattern throughout the day.
With no wind to effect my progress I made steady time southbound. The river seemed to be busy today with barge traffic.
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Light seeped into the tent as the sun cut through a clear sky. Still lying in my sleeping bag I grab a pen and paper and knocked out journal entry from the day before.
The morning would take a slow pace, as I sipped a cup of joe and try to catch up on my writing. It was a perfect day – clear blue skies, no wind to speak of and a beating sun that brought a tangible warmth.
By the time I finished the mornings tasks and wrapped up my writing it was somewhere around 11:30 AM. Partly disappointed that I didn't get on the water earlier with such perfect paddling conditions and partly content with the fact that I enjoy the slow morning in the sun, I finally pushed off my sandbar and begin working into the current.
The first part of the afternoon was spent listening to music and watching the homes along the eastern Mississippi shore dot in and out of the tree line.
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I rose to a brisk but sunny morning. Condensation caked the inside of my tents rainfly following a night that hovered in the mid 30s. Bundled in several layers and topped with cathart overalls I packed up the miscellaneous gear thrown about the inside of the tent and set the rainfly out to dry as I made breakfast.
A relatively calm day on the water followed. Near Helena, AR I received a text from my boss in South Dakota checking in and curious as to my expected end date. After crunching the milage I called her back, leaving a message. By my math I should be wrapped up sometime near the end of the month.
For the first time on the journey I see the end of the line and start thinking about the short amount of time I have left on the river. From there my mind begins to sort out the tasks I need to get done once I get home. Get a basketball schedule together, think of a new segment for my radio show, line up this, work on that.
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