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The latest and greatest as we venture farther into the land of cotton, or grits or sweet tea, you pick. |
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7/18/10 |
Go ahead Missouri, if you are the Show Me state, then let's see it. |
Missouri has been our first real taste
of Mississippi flooding, making it difficult for yours truly to find
reliable spots of river/road access to meet up with Wild Will.
Portage Des Sioux had high water and and difficult river access, but
Wild Will finally found me in the twilight and a late dinner of pork
chops, rice, and apple sauce. The next day was a big one, as we both
faced increased traffic as Wild Will faced the meeting of the
Mississippi and Missouri rivers in the city of St. Louis. I just had
to face St. Louis, and with my usual aplomb managed to get lost, and
the I found the open air Soulard Farmers Market. What a treat! With
merchants and grocers barking their goods, I was taken back to some
of my favorite market experiences in countries and years past. The
only draw back was one vendor was making fresh fried pork rinds, and
he was vigorously shaking some type of barbeque spice on to a fresh
batch and the wind caught some of the airborne spice and blew it into
my eye, as a gentle dusting of mace. Needless to say I was crying as
I left the market. I finally found my way back on the road and got to
the tiny village of Kimmswick, picturesque and dangerously lacking in
public water fountains. In many ways we have reverted to a more
primitive nature, in that our most basic needs, food, water, and
shelter dominate much of our everyday thoughts. Oh, and showers, I
dream about showers. We are now four days in to a heat advisory with
daily temperatures climbing to the upper 90's and the heat indexes
registering well above 100. 116 degrees was the highest I've heard
thus far. But back to primitive man concept, as that watering holes,
or in this case drinking fountains and hose spigots are getting
scarce, I often have a wide variety of water containers that need
filling as well as a dishes that need washing. I approach the spigot
with care, glancing from one side to another, much like a giraffe in
a National Geographic special, I am very wary of any watchful eyes,
and potential predators (in this case either concerned citizens or
local law enforcement who are wondering what is the deal with some
homeless guy doing his dishes in the park). Also we've been putting
up tents as close as we can to the river and often I set it up alone
because Wild Will is still on the water. Again, I scout out the area,
checking for obvious keep out signs or suspicious minded folk. I
circle the area looking for a good location to put down the tent. I
again look around for watching eyes, or even just people wandering
around. I judge the position of the sun, if it's too light out I
wait, having staked out my area I consider what to make for dinner
and possibly read a book. The sun starts to go down, the mosquitoes
come out, there is no more delaying I put out the tent. Wild Will
comes in and eats. I some how feel more legitimate with his kayak
near by. He eats and goes to bed. We lays sweating and sweltering in
a hot tent. The humidity stalks us like some mythical beast, a many
armed octopus bent on strangling us or smothering us, or at the very
least making our lives very uncomfortable. Morning comes after a
fitful nights sleep and the sun strikes the tent making it unbearably
hot. I get up, Will some how manages to continue sleeping. Luckily
Will had a reprieve today as that just as the sun was coming up a big
thunderstorm rolled in and after hopping out quick to put on the rain
fly and to stake down the tent. Wild Will got to sleep in til noon.
Tonight we find ourselves in yet another picturesque river town, Ste.
Genevieve, which has America's largest collection of French Colonial
buildings, but some how I feel New Orleans doesn't care. I left out
perhaps the most interesting part of our last week, Hoppie and Fern,
because the two of them deserve their own entry.
PS We've had a lot less internet access, and the concept of a internet cafe is as yet unheard of in these parts. |
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7/18/10 |
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Saturday found me melting in the heat
and wondering if I would get sick from the half melted pepper jack
cheese and warm summer sausage I had eaten for lunch. Kevin told us
to seek out the town of Kimmswick, and to go to Hoppie's Marina, if
he is still alive. Hoppie is still alive, even though he had been
paralyzed from the neck down five years ago.
Well that was five years
ago and Hoppie has recovered almost completely, and now just has some
lingering paralysis on his left side. He recovered, his wife Fern
told me, because he is so determined, and that's just the kind of man
he is. Hoppie himself is a Mississippi institution, having lived on
the river since 1934. It would be fair to say not many people know
the Mississippi River as well as Hoppie. Hoppie's Marina felt like
something out of an old Humphrey Bogart movie, as that the marina
dock consisted of three old river barges connected together
length-wise and painted white with blue trim. One of the barges
features a gas pump for the boats and another had a large enclosed
room and a bathroom with a shower, fed by sulfur infused well-water
(see Wild Will's journal). The marina has a landing bridge, and it
seems the main attachments to land for the barges are two thick
ropes, one of which is tied to a crane truck. I arrived at Hoppie's
early and helped hold the line to the little row boat as Hoppie
painted the barge in the 96 degree heat. I got to hear a good deal
about the happenings and the faults and flaws of various government
agencies from Fern, who was a real character but nice, even if she
was no nonsense. I've started to feel my life is beginning to become
like that old T.V. Show Route 66, where two young guys would drive
around the country in a new corvette. Well take the Corvette out of
the picture, as well as the boys' clean shaven faces, add the
irregular showers, and a big maroon conversion van, and take the
adventure that fit into a nice TV hour and stretch it out over the
course of two days, and remove most of the drama, and that's our
life. Oh yeah, and put one of the guys in a kayak all day. THAT'S our
life. River livin'.
P.S. Yesterday was the first day I got
heat rash. Such Luck. |
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7/19/10 |
River Living Observations |
In my previous life, before I became a river person I used to shower on a daily basis, when it was hot I would consider taking a couple of showers a day. Now I am lucky if I get to shower every three and a half days. Now these aren't winter days, these are heat advisory, high humidity, sleep outside or roast the evening in a van, sweat and rehydrate days. As a result I've become very conscious of how other people's olfactory nerves might respond to me. I start to wonder when sitting in public, is the fly just buzzing around me, or are other people getting buzzed? Do the flies smell me? Does that mean other people can smell me? Should I Febreeze myself? Where can I find a shower? Will I ever stop sweating? Usually by that time the second fly comes and starts buzzing around me and I get up and leave. Baby wipes, and washing in a skin can only get you so clean.
In other news I have been relentlessly pursuing my new hobby of getting lost. Like all hobbies this one does have a cost, usually in time and gas money. Yet a hobby such as mine does give one time to reflect on the greatness of God's creation, the brilliant workings of man, and the mysterious beckon of the open road. Theses moments can be summed up in an excerpt from my train of thought yesterday in Ste. Genevieve:
"My what a lovely town, that looks like an old house.
How come they don't put a marker on it saying when it was built? Should I have turned there? I'll keep going there is a church ahead. Catholic? No, Unified Presbiterian, it is very pretty. Hmmm, this looks like the end of town, didn't Hoppie say something about staying at the old marina here? Hmmm it looks very flooded around here.
Is this it? Not sure, I'll keep driving. My how lovely! Am I driving on top of a levee? Yep, sure looks like it.
I should probably turn around. Hmmm, no room its a one lane road. I am going farther and farther away from town. Is that a egret? Is sure is pretty out here. I bet there are a lot of mosquitoes though. I hope I don't see a car coming the other way. I love those hay bales.
OH NO! a truck coming the other way, this is going to be close, don't let the van tumble down the steep sides. Phew, that was close. Where am I? I can't see the river. Ahh there's a road down there, if I can just make it over the railroad tracks.... what's that across the road here? A chain?!? Alright, I'll have to turn around and go back. Will is never going to believe this."
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7/20/10 |
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Last night Wild Will came to shore at
7:30 and I had dinner cooking on the grill. I had to tell him that
the local newspaper in Cape Girardeau was not particularly interested
in his story. I had gone to the newspaper and told them I might have
a story that they were interested in. The receptionist to me to wait
a few minutes and someone would come out, I began discreetly sniffing
myself to see if two consecutive nights of sweating myself to sleep
and not having showered were obvious. It was present, but subtle, or
so I hoped. Either way, it definitely can reduce one's confidence.
Well, I suppose it reduces one's confidence if they are meeting and
the stinky one isn't going to threaten to pillage and burn the clean
and civilized person's town. Without the threat of certain and
impending doom, I was at something of a disadvantage. The reporter
came out, and I told her I was the support team for a young man
trying to be the youngest person to kayak solo down the whole length
of the Mississippi River. She seemed nonplussed. “How old is your
kayaker?”
“He's twenty.” I said.
“OK, and who has the record for being
the youngest person to kayak solo down the river?”
I faltered, “Well there isn't a
clearly stated record, but as far as we can tell he will be the
youngest. Most people do it in a canoe, or in a group. Not many
people kayak solo down the whole river.” I said trying to finish
strong.
“Well, we just had three kayakers
come through last week. Most people that come through here seem to
be kayakers.”
“Ah, but those kayakers were in a
group, Will is going solo.” I said trying to sell the story.
“No, but they were kayaking for
cancer.”
I knew I was beaten, but I'm pretty
sure she'd have been more receptive to my story if I had been
carrying a broad sword.
She kindly showed me how to enter the
story on there website under the section called 'my stories', where
local citizens report the stories that are going on in their lives, a
section that appears just on the internet (I understood that these
stories were considered a waste of ink). I thanked her and left and
since then have been dreaming of filling the 'my stories' with a
series of subversive reports of holes being found in the sea wall, or
having a rabid cat, or how my great uncle Fritz told me that he had
hidden his Nazi gold somewhere nearby.
As a cautionary note, you shouldn't set
up your tent in the dark, because you just might find in the morning
that you had set it up surrounded by poison ivy, as we did this
morning. Lesson learned.
This morning marked the beginning of the
fourth day, and three very sweaty nights without a shower. We were
getting desperate. Wild Will, suggested going to a car wash and
washing ourselves and the car at the same time. He wondered if there
was a pool nearby, and I was able to inform him there was (I had come
upon it during my wanderings the day before). We packed up and went
to the pool, which seemed to be open. The employee was facing the
pool, and when Wild Will, asked him if this is where we payed he
informed us that there was swim team practice until 11, and it was
just around 9. We started to turn and leave, and faced with the
option of trying to find a car wash, I said to Wild Will, “Let's
just go shower.” and sure enough, the guy had turned around to
watch the swimmers and we snuck into the Men's locker room, which was
open air in the center, and proceeded to shower. Not a great shower
by the standards of civilized man, but it was heavenly for us. Wild
Will was feeling cleaner, and I had new confidence in my ability to
interact with people. When we finished, we left with the employee
none the wiser. Wild Will commented on the way back that he thinks it
takes two showers to get truly clean, or a sauna and a shower. I told
him we should just be thankful that we were able to wash at all, and
for free to boot. Today we head for Cairo, at the meeting of the
Mississippi and the Ohio rivers. |
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7/21/10 |
Flat Tire in a Forgotten Town |
After a delayed start from Cape
Girardeau (I must have been journaling in the library), I headed for
Illinois. I cruised through Missouri without a problem, getting
groceries on my way out of town, and was excited to go to Future
City, IL, on my way to my final destination of Cairo, IL. “Cairo,
city of the living!” Proclaimed Sulah, the master digger in Indiana
Jones Raiders of the Lost Ark. Where as one might exclaim “Cairo,
does anybody live here?” when coming to Cairo, IL (pronounced
Kare-o in these parts, don't ask me why). The city population was
listed at 3,600 but it had the residential capacity for 5 times that.
I drove down the main road, finding just one gas station open (with
prices .30 higher than in Missouri) and many many abandoned and
closed buildings.
One of the closed buildings was a restaurant with
“The best burgers in southern Illinois!” painted on the side.
Apparently the best burgers in southern Illinois was not enough to
keep it open, or perhaps a scathing review of what the free market
thinks about the burgers in southern Illinois. My drive down the main
street was fascinating, some abandon houses with broken windows had
vines growing up the side of the house and into the house itself.
I've seen more lively towns in post communism eastern Europe. One
would think that the location at the meeting of town great rivers,
the Ohio and the Mississippi, would lead to the development of a
bustling town filled with river commerce, like St. Louis, but that is
not the case for whatever reason.
Upon completing my drive through
town I still had not found any river access, so I decided to pursue
a new area of my hobby, driving on levees. I was hoping that the
river side of the levee would have some road to the river, such as a
boat access or even a fishing spot. It was not to be. I drove over 5
miles along a red gravel levee top without being able to even see the
water most of the time, seeing only swamp and forest. Frustrated I
crossed over to the main road again and found myself re-entering
Future City (author's note: I've seen the Future City, and its not
nearly as developed as people claim it's going to be.) and back down
the main street of Cairo. That's when I heard it WOMP WOMP, I stuck
my head out the window, WOMP WOMP. Darn, I had a flat. I pulled over
into an abandoned gas station and began the gritty and lengthy
process of changing the tire. It was beginning to get dark, and my
one goal was to get it done before sunset. I called my grandparents
to inquire exactly where the jack and tire iron might be in this
vehicle and then proceed to unpack the entire back of the van to
extract the needed equipment. I then tried to Wild Will, to inform
him of the situation, and had to setting by sending him a text
message. When he finally did call I was in the middle of changing the
tire, and dropped the phone and couldn't get it working for the next
8 minutes. Once the tire was changed I had to drive to the one
working gas station to get air to put into the spare tire. Wild Will
called to inform me that he didn't have his boat lights with him and
would need to land before dark. I still had not found a place for him
to land and I drove over the second bridge to the Missouri side and
ended up on another levee, and when I finally found the river, it was
inaccessible due to 8 feet or so of rocks placed on the bank. I
called Wild Will to inform him of this update and we decided I should
try the Illinois side once more. I did and found a little park that
marked the southernmost tip of Illinois, and as Wild Will told me
this morning, the spot where Lewis and Clark took their first
longitude and latitude. Also the meeting of the Ohio and Mississippi
rivers is the zero mark for river miles coming north down the
Mississippi.
We had come to mile zero, and that meant we had 960
miles left to go. We should be in Memphis on Saturday night. I parked
the van as near as I could to the water with the lights on. I got out
of the van to try and light one of the flares I had bought at a
garage sale, and it failed to ignite. I began to realize just how
buggy it was. I had seen thousands of dragon flies on my drive along
the levee and I suppose that in order to sustain thousands of dragon
flies you need millions of mosquitoes. Wild Will came ashore and we
set up the tent on the upper beach of the southernmost tip of
Illinois, which was kind of neat. We set up the tent amidst hundreds
of swarming mosquitoes and grabbed the bread, peanut butter, and
jelly and jumped in the tent. There would be no cooking out. We began
with first things first which was a hunt of all of the mosquitoes
that had made it into the tent. Using a flash light and our hands we
worked up a sweat killing over 40 mosquitoes that had made it into
the tent in just the two brief times we opened it. Unfortunately some
of our foes had gotten to us first as testified by the blood stains
now all over the tent. We finally settled down to eat, but we were
frightened to see in the light of an oncoming barge just how many
mosquitoes had covered the tent and we as yet unsuccessful in
drilling their way in. If they had some how succeed, I honestly do
not know what I would have done. It gives me chills just thinking
about it. We got to sleep, aided by the nice breeze coming off the
river.
In the morning I killed the few mosquitoes we had missed and
lit the charcoal to cook what was supposed to be last nights dinner
(ground beef, garlic, and blue cheese with chips). I fed Wild Will a
coffee drink, to help administer the transformation from Pillow Will
into Wild Will. Tonight we will meet in New Madrid, MO meaning Wild
Will will have kayaked the entire Kentucky section of the river in
just one day.
Oh, and I fell knee deep into river mud as I pushed
Wild Will off this morning and I mention this because I just found a
very large dry patch of it plastered to my calf as I sit here in the
laundromat writing this entry.
PS I know Wild Will mentions that his
hands and fingers are sore, but he probably does not tell you that
each morning he is unable to even make a fist with his right hand
because his fingers are so swollen and he thinks he may have a stress
fracture in his ring finger. Yet he gets back in the water every
morning, and goes for at least 50 miles. |
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7/22/10 |
The New Source of Shower Power |
New Madrid did not seem to be suffering nearly as much as it's up river fellow Cairo and I arrived ahead of Wild Will, after getting two tires (the balding one had the steel rim showing, yet was not the one to go flat), do some much needed laundry, and make some purchases. I found a park at the river front that was a good location but lacked running water, and bathrooms yet a section of the park did have electrical outlets (Yet another sign of robot bias in our society). I started up the grill and slowly started trekking back and forth from the van, which was parked far away. I finally amassed all that was needed for a campsite out of the sight of most prying eyes and I got to witness what I think was ships dredging the river.
The mosquitoes were frightful as usual once it got dark, and I had made the mistake of somehow misplacing Wild Will's camera either at the campsite in Cairo or somewhere in the van. I scoured the van without finding it, and today I back tracked to Cairo to look for it and to inquire about it at the police station. No luck.
On a different note, this morning Wild Will was insistent about getting a shower before he left. We drove to the one pool I had seen in town, hoping to get in for a swim and the all important shower. The pool was a part of the country club (emphasis on country) and was closed. We seemed about to give up when we saw a spray wash and I said somewhat jokingly "Hey there's a spray'n'wash, we could go there."
Wild Will replied, "OK."
"Are you serious?"
He gave me a look and we went to the spray'n'wash and deposited $2.25 for 6 minutes of shower at high pressure with the dial set on 'rinse'. I must add that my hair seems unusually stiff today and I'm wondering if I got either a little extra soap and or wax along with my shower. Wild Will claims it's the best non-hotel or house shower he's had the whole trip.
On a closing note I bought what must have been a 12 lbs watermelon form a farmer selling them out of th back of his truck yesterday and we only managed to eat half of it by the time Wild Will left today. |
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7/23/10 |
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We bid Madrid (pronounced Mad-rid another inexplicable local pronunciation) Missouri good bye this morning as Wild Will took to the river in what could be epic triple digit heat, plus the ever present humidity. Our stop tonight is the town of Osceola. While many of the river towns we have passed through have been depressed economically, only Osceola and Cairo are truly impoverished. Osceola has a more commercial ventures but perhaps less august public services. I am currently sitting facing a physical card catalog, and the one librarian here told me that A) I needed to show her some photo ID before I could use the library's wireless internet, and B) she would have to enter the password to the secure network. I am pretty sure that the password was the library's phone number as that has been the case in the two previous libraries I visited, and also she had the password memorized. I'm far from disgruntled but slightly unsettled, as this may have been the first time that I've had to show my ID for anything. Also the library is well monitored by at least nine interior cameras, even though it is smaller than the children's section at Gail Bordern Library. These things all say something.
I might just be spoiled. My local library at home is excellent and asthetically pleasing. Burlington, Iowa had a great library. As did Ste. Genevieve, and even the little community of New Madrid. The modern libraries are welcoming, friendly, updated, comfortable, and highly used. This library (a county library, perhaps THE county library) is getting some use, but I feel there is much potential in the way of increased community involvement and educational and reading programming.
A quick search just informed me that 33% of the population in Osceola live below the poverty line and 13.5% of the population live at more than 50% below the poverty line. This information was from 2007, and I can't see it haven't been much improved in an uncertain economy. |
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7/27/10 |
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I write now as a humbler and wiser man. Yesterday morning, at the delightfully named Mhoon;s Landing, I decided to take advantage of the plentiful water, shelter and facilities to construct for Wild Will and myself a bucket shower as well as take the time to do some laundry by hand. The bucket shower was constructed by slicing holes in the bottom of a one gallon bucket with a knife. Both were successful ventures and I had finally made river living mine. I wore my freshly laundered clothes on my freshly washed self and drove down to buy lunch for Wild Will and meet him after the storms broke to the south.
We've entered delta country and if anything it's gotten hotter and muggier, and buggier (I really should tell you about my new insect fear fire ants) but all was well. I bought some food and drove down by the river to meet Wild Will. There was a break in the weather and he kayaked the 15 minutes or so down to find me and see nourishment. He came ashore began to eat and told me he didn't want to get back on the river until the clouds looked "less angry".
We had been seeing the ragged remains of tropical storm Bonnie passing by so I agreed. Will wanted to go into town, so I turned on the van and began to drive out in order to turn around. Now I admit, we were off the paved road but there were tire track and I thought the dirty and vegetation might be a little muddy but not too bad.
It turns out that the dirt was river silt covering a sand bar, a very sandy sand bar, and we drove all or 10 yard when we got stuck. REAL stuck. Up to the tail pipe stuck. Needless to say in the hour or so that followed, trying to place branches under the wheels, and then rocks, my newly cleaned self and clothes got dirty, very dirty. I paid dearly for my hubris. To think I thought that I could regulate my own cleanliness on a daily basis. HA! Sheer folly, I was covered with sand and mud. I had sand all the way up my shorts, and I still can't figure out that happened. We were in the process of jacking up the car to place rock underneath the raised wheels, when two good Samaritans, Bret and Brant came by to help us out. They first drove off to get a tow strap and we continued with the jack plan. They returned before we could start on the second wheel, and just as well because upon getting pulled out I was able to see just how stuck we had been. The guys wouldn't accept anything but our thanks, and they were on their way.
The clouds continued to be 'angry' and we drove into town. Wild Will was astonished to see this vine or ivy that had taken over everything and even began crawling up cell towers. I had seen it on my trip down to Natchez in January but forgot what it was called or where it was from, but pictures will be forth coming.
We drove through town getting gas and I rinsed off my lower arms and shins which were black with mud and grit. We found a car wash and did a quick spray to try and get clean but I sill have sand in my hair, and beard. So much for the bucket shower in the morning.
We drove back to the river when the clouds let loose and it was plain to see Wild Will wasn't going any farther. We back tracked to the Walmart superstore, which Wild Will said was one of the few places we could enter and not make people feel weird. I heartily agree after stopping in the restroom and seeing myself in the mirror. I realized that I looked borderline homeless and with the white hairs in my beard sticking out (I am sure I have new white hairs to be named after the states we've passed through) that I looked more than a little crazy. I've not had the chance to reflect upon my appearance much during the trip and I realize that as far as appearance goes with regards to my dues of Public Relations that I leave something to be desired. It was still raining when we got out and so we spend a fitful and mosquito-filled night in the van.
Wild Will is doing over 70 miles today in efforts to make up for lost time. We hope to make it to the deciding spot by my birthday August 2nd. That's where we'll decide whether to take the Atchafalaya river or the Mississippi. Tonight we are staying in a very secluded spot up river of Rosedale. My biggest beef with the town is that the library was closed on account of no air conditioning (HA!), and also no sit down restaurants. We'll see how the night goes, as we are in alligator country now, and I did see some old reptile eggs shells on the river bank near where we are staying. |
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7/28/10 |
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It was one of the cooler mornings in memory, granted our memory isn't too good considering the sleep deprivation. I got a chance to show Wild Will the reptile eggshells. Last night was not nearly as cool as the morning and as we were sprawled out int he tent in pools of our own sweat we heard the baying of a hound. The baying got closer, and while we quietly discussed what they could be hunting the hound dog appeared. For the record, I thought coon hunting mostly because I really liked reading "Where the Red Fern Grows" as a boy. Wild Will wasn't sure. He thought maybe the dog was tracking us. He wasn't after our food and made no attempts to inspect the tent more closely and after a couple of minutes of snuffing he crawled under a fence and was off. We never hear the hound bay again. Wild Will thought maybe the hound had been tracking us and had been disappointed to discover mere men as the source of the scent. Granted, it was a pretty obvious scent.
In other news, Wild Will thinks I am trying to make him sick with the food, which I am not. Also it is getting near impossible to apply sun screen to his back. The moment the goop touches his back he breaks out into a sweat thus compromising the effectiveness of the sun block. He says he can't help it. I think he can. We've also learned that some friends that were going to try and make it to the end of our adventure are not going to be able to. It looks like it is going to be Wild Will and me and the end of the trip, and of course the oil.
Final Note: The prisoners here wear green and white striped outfits, when the do the highway clean up. |
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7/29/10 |
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Sometimes what seems like a good idea
such as “Let's take a photo shoot with tree frogs that we find here
in the bathroom!” does not in the end turn out to be quite the
successful endeavor that one had hoped. These pictures are a
testament to the sad fact that photo shoots with tree frogs are not
always golden and can even be down right creepy.
I must admit that the frog is
definitely showing some attitude in some of these photos.
Now you know what the Lytle boys do
for fun once we've showered and need to vent the extra energy that a
treat like that brings. Also of note, Wild Will saw his first live
armadillo, but failed to get a picture of it, despite chasing after it with
a camera.
Today we'll be crossing into Louisiana, putting us into the final two states of our epic journey. |
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7/30/10 |
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On the off chance that Wild Will and I keel over from exhaustion I wanted to get this out there. Wild Will outdid himself in a 100 mile kayak, due mostly to the front wheel almost falling off the van and me literally having to camp out in front of the mechanic, after a very interesting truck ride with the good Samaritian cotton farmer, Jeff Bratton. Wild Will and I finally met up this morning in Vicksburg only to encounter this not 10 yards from his boat.
Yup, a rattlesnake.
We were maybe a little sleep deprived, but the snake woke us up. This led to some questionable decisions.
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