Weather conditions:
High: 81
Low: 57
Skies: sun and clouds mixed
Winds: NNW 5 to 10 mph
Today’s mileage: 18 miles
Total mileage: 35 miles
Where we traveled: island to Hastings, MN, mile marker 812
Ate:
Breakfast: Oatmeal and quinoa with peaches topped with granola and “coffee.” (Ingredients: extracts of roasted barley, rye, chicory root, dandelion root and sugar beet) This beverage tastes like coffee but is caffeine free and provides additional health benefits.
Dinner: chili and cornbread crouton
Dessert: banana pudding
3:50 p.m.
I am sitting on the banks of the Mississippi river below Hastings, MN, watching pleasure boats enjoy the river. Some are elaborate, pulling dinghies worth more than our car, while others are simply a motorized rubber boat. Those who live along the upper Mississippi essentially live on a long skinny lake they share with towboats. If I lived on a river, I’d like to own a cabin cruiser to visit other towns. Because bridges are limited, accessing towns is sometimes challenging. A boat is the answer.
On the lower Mississippi, we watched towboats and ocean-going ships transport their cargo. We saw maybe one or two pleasure boats. It’s hard to believe we are on the same river.
By the way, the refinery did hum all night. But instead of white noise, John called it red noise because of the gas flare burning brightly above the facility.
Although the river still looks as though it is flowing upstream, today’s paddle wasn’t as brutal as yesterday’s. Someone suggested the locks and dams may be the cause of this appearance of a backwards river—seems reasonable. The wind was calmer and at our backs, so we didn’t have to battle that.
This morning, the birds entertained us. Eagles, gulls, and pelicans created black and white spots in the sky. They swooped and gathered their meals from the water. A line of gulls watched us pass from their perch on a tree lying in the middle of the river. John decided they were on a Viking boat. “Stroke, stroke, stroke…”
John continued delivering dialogue for the birds as a mature eagle and two immatures stood in the river. When the younger ones flew away, the elder said (in John’s opinion), “It’s only a canoe. You’re wasting your energy.” Sigh. “Now, I have to catch two extra fish.”
Another of John’s interpretations… An egret in a tree said to another standing below, “You should see it from up here.”
I am enjoying my time with John. I am perplexed by how his mind works. I asked him, “Are you this talkative when I’m not with you? Do you make ups songs and dialogue?”
Silence.
“That means you do!” I love him.
We locked through Lock 2, our first of the trip, above Hastings, MN, with two pleasure boats. When the lockmaster threw us our ropes to hold us in place, he asked if we were going to the Gulf. Our canoe with a yellow cover over lots of gear was probably a clue. He didn’t ask the pleasure boat if they were on their way to the gulf.
We usually stop for breaks and lunches, but since most of the upper Mississippi banks are private property, we ate a floating lunch before passing through the lock. Just below the lock, there was some public land, so we took a break. (We were in Ripple from 8:00 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.) After we stretched our legs, filled our dromedaries, used the restroom, and deposited trash, we dodged speedboats on our way through Hastings before finding our home for the evening at 3:00.
I just finished typing a journal entry on my iPad and then tried to e-mail it to myself so I could post it on our website. No luck. Since our iPad II is a thousand years old, we can’t download updates any more. I’m not disappointed though. Since I won’t be typing my journal entries until we are home, I’ll have more time to relax and read while we are on our trip.
A pelican is floating by our campsite. John said, “I wonder what his name is.” He decided his name is Barry. He thinks these awkward birds look like feathered bulldogs. According to John, the Bald Eagle across the “street” is named Tom. After sitting in the same tree for over an hour, Tom swooped, caught his supper, carried it to the beach, and ate it. Scenes we don’t see from our porch at home.
Our friend Irene texted us her first suggested conversation topic today.
Irene: What is the purpose of an interstate highway?
John: It has to do with the transfer and/or transport of human waste. Some states had too much (full of shit), while others couldn’t get enough, using it to make everything from fertilizer to glue. In the years immediately following the civil war, tensions again became so great that federal government stepped in, constructing wagon trails and footpaths to allow accessible trade between the states. (Some say it was done for National security purposes to ensure quick transport of soldiers and ammunitions, but if you hear anyone say that, tell them they’re full of shit [pun intended].)
Irene: Oh gosh… Part-2, keeping in mind it’s used between the states… So… why does Hawaii have an interstate? This baffles me.
John: People in Hawaii poop too. Remember, this is a federal government program—it doesn’t have to make sense.
Time for dinner, relaxation, and maybe reading.