Wednesday, April 15,2015
Today for breakfast we had quinoa for breakfast – very delicious – with no accompanying fire. (I used the microwave this morning)
Once we had packed up, we said good-bye to Amber and her animals: dogs – Toby (the sentry), Shelby (the hostess), Bonnie and Clyde (just loud), cat – Lucky (slacker), sheep – Bailey (mad and just wanted us to leave so she wouldn’t have to be tied up to protect our gear from being eaten), cows, and chickens.
Toby followed us as we performed our towing portage down to the “boat ramp” to launch our boats in a river that was much lower than it was a day and a half ago. As we paddled, we noticed the banks are changing to more rocks and limestone. This was very evident at Rock Island, where the striations were even more evident. Since the river was lower, we encountered more rapids, while we enjoyed a tail wind.
Up until today, we had not seen something we know we will encounter later – other boats. We saw our first boat – another kayak. This was not a long boat like ours, it was more of a recreational one. I’m assuming the gentleman had gone out for a brief paddle as exercise. We watched him pull his boat on shore and drag it easily to it’s place of storage – John was jealous at the light-weightedness (I don’t think that is a word.) of his kayak. It is a struggle to move our kayaks anywhere when they are not in the water.
As we passed the remnants of an old bridge – the support pillars in the water – I thought about where the road led that crossed the bridge. Why is the road no longer needed? What points did it connect from each side of the river.? The river has such limited access from one side to the other. A home on one side is so close to homes on the other side but yet so far. Why would a bridge no longer be needed to connect the two sides? How does a bridge become, as the Japanese say, “kankeinai” (irrelevant)?
As we entered Logansport via the river, we were greeted with a view that only those arriving in Logansport from the river can experience – the steeple of white church by the river. What a welcoming sight. I love that during this trip we will be able to experience the trip from a different point of view than if we were traveling by vehicle. Each view is unique and beautiful!
Not only were we greeted by the church when we arrived, but we were also greeted by three girls looking down from the overview of the river (it took a while to convince them we were going to New Orleans), and two ladies on a walk during their lunch (they took our picture and posted it on Facebook for us).
After we were welcomed to Logansport, John went to,the post office to pick up our first mailed package of food. Luckily, the post office was only six blocks from the river. (Too bad the conditions won’t always be this favorable.) John had to show his ID to prove he was who he said he was and then easily carried our goodies back to the park bench I was sitting on and journaling. Since so many people had been kind enough to feed us real food, the addition of this package proved to be a problem even after sending some food home with Dawn Wanner at Huntington. Since there wasn’t anyone to send food home with, we had to stuff it in every nook and cranny (Where does that term come from?) I remember when I was preparing our food a couple of months ago, stressing we wouldn’t have enough…. Hmmmm……. God provides…… Faith…….
As John was on his trek to pick up our food, he was also on a trek to find a restroom for me. He found one at Amelio’s bar. This became our restroom stop and water fill station for the day, thanks to Nick, the bartender. (John quoted “It’s a Wonderful Life” all night.)
John called the parks department to see where we might be able to camp. While we were stuffing our kayaks with food (You don’t read those words every day.), Rich Brewer, parks commissioner, came to meet us. Little did we know when we met Rich, he was going to put out such a wonderful welcoming mat. He took John to Wal-Mart to buy a fuel canister. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any, so he bought another essential – toothpaste. After his shopping trip, John was provided with a tour of Logansport. Logansport, population 19,000, has nineteen parks and one of three hand-carved Dentzel carousels. What a beautiful city. After John returned from his tour, I was provided the same tour, but instead of Wal-Mart I visited an ice cream shop. My hero!
Rich gave us permission to camp in the corner of the Little Turtle Park (beautiful riverside park, with paved walking trail). We had just set up when Mitchel Kirk from the Pharos Tribune walked up wanting an interview. (It seems if we call the parks department, they call the paper.) A photographer is coming tomorrow to take a picture.
After dinner, we received a phone call from another reporter, Emma Rausch, from The Wabash County Paper. She had just learned we had been in Wabash a couple of days before but still wanted to do an interview. So she drove 37 minutes to interview us. She not only interviewed us, but she brought us apples and caramel and took me to Rural King in search of the propane canister. (Still no luck) A new friend was made.
This is the loudest campsite yet since two train tracks, each about 50 yards away, intersect just a block from the park. The train has become a familiar sound, since we first heard the train in Bluffton and have traveled close to it ever since. An additional comfort, in-between the trains, the soothing sound of the water in the river can be heard. Home!
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