Plans frequently change!

I quickly discovered The casino doesn’t have a hotel, the Bally’s casino with the hotel is a 2 mile walk south down the sidewalk. The sun was setting fast but knowing I would have a bed and a shower definitely made it worth the final portage of the trip.  The nice part of the walk was it was on the sidewalk, 2 mile straight line, very little traffic and the rain had stopped and the streets had already dried up. Time to move!

Spending 5 weeks away from the real world has changed my life in so many ways…. what I eat, what feels important, what matters daily, what is real in life and what is just noise that we let creep in for no reason only to create stress in life.  There are some sounds in life that are triggering, that are distinct, that instantly change everything, that pump adrenalin and set off your subconscious reactions. It may be a plate dropping, a car crash, a door slamming, the smell of smoke? I’m sure it is different for everyone. One of my trigger sounds is the sound of a skateboard being ridden on a sidewalk. It instantly turns my head to look for possible adventure and excitement.  1 mile into the walk, I heard that sound, the click click click click of the wheels hitting the cracks in the concrete faster and faster.  I picked up my pace and walked up to 2 skaters, one with a cell phone and one trying to find the courage to slide down a handrail. 3rd,4th,5th attempt with no success, not believing in himself….. I suggested taking a break, introduced myself and explained why I was dragging a 18′ yellow kayak down the sidewalk and how I realized the only hard part of this trip was taking the first step.  Do I skate down handrails? No, I’m in my 50’s and don’t want to die. Do I know how to eat an elephant???? 1 bite at a time!  I suggested breaking down the handrail into 3 steps, (1) approach the rail, (2) get on the rail, (3) get off the rail.  Do each individually and you will succeed.  1 minute later, what was only a dream in his mind was complete, he landed the trick and we celebrated!  He was on cloud 9, it was 3 guys screaming in the streets, total strangers all understanding the accomplishment physically and mentally he completed. In retrospect, was it us celebrating him, or them celebrating my accomplishment as well?  Maybe it was both.

Ballys casino & hotel was under construction when I approached.  Virtually no parking, people in fancy clothes and fancy cars all waiting to get in.  Then we have me… the dirty guy who smells like river water, a worn out boat that needs a bath and valet porters looking at me like I was a space alien.  Sometimes in life you ask a question with the tone of giving instructions.  “I am a hotel guest. Can you park my boat in the valet next to one of the expensive cars while I check in?” then simply walk inside not letting them ponder the answer NO.

The hotel staff was amazing, loved hearing my stories, and got me checked in quickly. I showered and closed my eyes…. exhausted.

I received the call just after I got coffee early the next morning. Dad is on his way to ICU, you need to get on a plane now.  I knew the true meaning of the call based on the inflection I have rarely heard from Christy, my wife.  This sent me instantly into GO MODE.  Call Sam, The king of logistics. “Sam I need to get home now”, no other details needed or asked for.  I walked into the lobby, explained the circumstances to the manager “Go, we will adjust your reservations, your boat will be safe and we will have an Uber for you to the airport in 15 minutes”.  Not a question of company procedures, checking manuals, just YES.  Amazing!

As I stood waiting for the Uber on the corner, in the only pair of shorts not smelling like a river, in the only shirt not smelling like a river I owned I suddenly realized I now had a severe case of claustrophobia, panic and  terror all hitting me for the first time in my life.  I have discovered I hate large crowds, traffic, congestion and the pace of regular life.  All this in 5 weeks??  really??

In less than 2 hours from receiving the call I was on a plane to San Antonio reflecting on the fact that if I would have gotten up and back on the river like usual to paddle “cancer alley” I would have had no cell service, no way to get off the river and the situation would have been much more difficult. Could the river Gods have known more than me when they woke me up with the feeling of not paddling cancer alley for a bigger purpose?

When I got to San Antonio, I went directly to the hospital to see my father connected to enough machines to land the lunar rover connected to his 100lb body with a smile on his face knowing I was home safe.

Dad has been battling lung failure for some time, doing his best to enjoy life, making sure the people he loved knew he loved them.  I had no doubt I would be home to see him, He had no doubt he would be there when I came home.  We had that silent agreement!  We would honor that. Dad had a hard and firm rule about the end of his life. He didn’t want to pass in a hospital, he wanted to pass at home in comfort.  His body had finally decided he was ready for his next adventure…

With the help of my Uncle Darren, Dads wife Michelle, my mom Michele and Christy we got the house outfitted and dad transported so we as a blended family could surround him with love and attention for his remaining days. Dad was stable and comfortable. He was in and out of long periods of sleep only to wake, tell a joke, demand coffee or snacks and then dose off again. We had a great time together, knowing the moments mattered. Not knowing how long we had.

I had called Ballys a couple times to update them, extending my valet boat parking which they welcomed, but I also knew I needed to make the trip out of courtesy and respect to retrieve my gear. I woke up at 3am…. Dad is stable, I need to go!  As I clicked off the miles in my truck headed back to Louisiana to retrieve my kayak and gear I wanted to go solo. I wanted the moment to unpack my emotions and prepare myself for my fathers passing.  I was able to reflect on so many things, so many trips with my father, so many times when he said “Just GO, do it” and supported me along the way. The road noise, the rhythm of the miles clipping past was soothing, the cabin of my truck compressed my life back into a small place again almost like being in my boat. It was the thing I needed to mentally unpack the last few days.

The Ballys Hotel was busy when I arrived.  The same Valet did not recognize me in normal clothes and a pickup truck until I parked next to the big yellow kayak.  He walked over, welcomed me back and offered to help in any way possible. It is amazing when people want to help, not help out of requirements. I quickly said thank you, loaded up and hit the road making the 16 hour round trip drive as efficiently as possible.

When I arrived home, I was exhausted and needed some sleep. I would get a few hours, then be ready to relieve my mom, Christy and Michelle for the night as they spent many hours with dad into the late evening. When the phone rang, I instantly awoke, I knew I had to go. It wasn’t a trip for the evening, it was a trip to say goodbye. My father passed peacefully in his sleep surrounded by his family.

Now, a few days later…. After the paperwork, the phone calls, the text messages, the relentless amount of love from my family and friends I sit at my computer trying to recap the Mississippi river trip that ended 168 hours ago….. It is just a blur, just a long lost memory. Time is short, the people you spend that time with even shorter.

I look forward to talking to my father about my next great adventure, already knowing his answer, knowing he would support it!

My last words of advice…

I hope you take the time to find your next elephant in life, I hope you eat it one bite at a time.  Tune out the noise of life as it is just a distraction. Cherish the people who love you and like my dad says “Just GO. Do it!”

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I have decided that tomorrow will be my final day on the river. I’ll be pulling my boat from the water for the last time in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

The cold nights and crystal-clear headwaters of the north are long gone. The charming river towns of the mid-section and the adrenaline of navigating locks and dams are now many miles behind me.

At Baton Rouge, the “Mighty Mississippi” loses her glory. She transforms into what is known as “Cancer Alley”—a stretch of water so burdened by industrial toxins that it has become the most polluted river segment in the country.  It is a heartbreaking reality that the chemicals we dump into our waterways have poisoned the final leg of an otherwise incredible journey through the heart of America.

Am I capable of finishing the final two or three days to the Gulf? Of course. But is it worth the burning lungs and the “toxic soup” just for the sake of completion? For me, the answer is no. This river has been paddled by countless people over hundreds of years; I have nothing left to prove to it, or to myself.

My heart is full as I look back on the people I’ve met. To the helping hands, the kind words, and the “river angels” who appeared when I needed them most: you made this adventure unforgettable. I am deeply inspired by the kindness of the American people and blessed by the family and friends who have carried me through.

This trip was a team effort. When the sun rises, I will pack my gear one last time for the final 75 miles to Baton Rouge. I plan to savor every mile, reflecting on the faces, the places, and the memories that now define this journey. 

Thank you all for the encouragement, the motivation, the endless shuttles, the donations to charity, and the burgers and coffee along the way.

I appreciate you all more than words can say….. Now it’s on to the next adventure!

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I made a quick stop at two random river houses, only to find the first one a little bit terrifying… possibly a movie set for some horrible movie lol. The second home,  a walking distance away had someone standing at the window waving at me so I figured that was a much better spot to get water. As I approached I realized that it was a sticker on the glass and that someone had a great sense of humor. I quickly filled that my water bag and headed back onto the water lol

I did a quick google search for islands, boat ramps and city parks for a spot to camp for the night.  The only things I saw within 10 miles was a boat ramp that was absolutely empty of all signs of life. It was a simple 2 lane road with fallen tree debris and little sign of recent public use. A ultra secluded spot with a nice view of the river. I sent my tent up, started drying everything off and setting up dinner for the night. Just before sunset is when several cars pulled up clearly full of meth heads. The parked on the far side of the ramp and left me alone, I left them alone.  Just as full darkness set in I settled into my tent with everything put away, secured for the evening.  A random single car drove up music way too loud and decided to park 30 feet from my tent with the  headlights shining directly into my tent.  After about 10 minutes I decided I had to get out and address the situation.  I’m assuming they were trying to figure out if anybody was there and whether they could steal my kayak or not.  I could tell it was 2 people, man and woman…. Not young kids.  I grabbed my flashlight and knife and walked to the side of the headlights and quickly to the side window just like a police officer with flashlight blinding the passengers who came to the quick realization i’m in the mood to have methheads shine headlights inside my tent while I was trying to relax. After a very short conversation in the typical way I handle things like this they decided for their safety it was best to leave. 

I slept like a baby after that! 

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About 4pm I had a random boater pull up next to me for a quick chat. He was from New Orleans, had towed his boat up to the first lock and was boating down the river to explore.  He was in a John boat with an aluminum canopy for shade, large spare gas tank and camping gear for his nights along the way.  We had a quick chat and he headed out to explore down river in a much nicer fashion than myself lol. 

As evening approached I could see the thunderstorms building but wanted to hit that century mark before finding my campsite for the evening. Once my phone said “100.1 miles” and I knocked that off the bucket list I quickly looked for a camp site for the evening.  It was on the main shoreline which always has more bugs, but I found a raised area with 2 nicely placed trees for my hammock and a easy way to pull my boat out of the water.  With the thunder booming, I quickly set up camp and hunkered down for the upcoming storm.  I was way to excited about hitting the 100 mile day and wide awake for the inbound storm attempting to focus on anything but laying in my tent with 99% humidity & zero breeze until the storm actually hits. 

The thunder and lightning was as powerful as I had ever seen.  All directions flashing with a never ending thunder roll. Once the wind picked up, my tent became way more enjoyable and I started to enjoy the storm.  

As I looked out my mosquito mesh, about 500 yards down river I noticed I blinking light.  It was then I realized the traveler I met earlier in the day was anchored just offshore for the night. 

We shot out a few text messages through the night about the storm intensity until 2:30am when I finally fell asleep. 

Today was a good day! 

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duck, goose which is definitely made for young people who can get up quickly! It passed the time quickly and I think they actually enjoyed doing something from their childhood that none of them would’ve ever brought up if it wasn’t for a random stranger on boat . As the storm started to end, my two paddle companions, met us at the boat ramp for a quick lunch to chat with the kids and then back on the water to put on more miles while watching the weather for the upcoming rain and storms. As I paddled out ahead again the first camp that I sent them was a very large island with long sand bars, small trees, very little debris, but they probably would have had to stop earlier in the day to enjoy it. The second site was 5 or 10 miles further along, was a little bit smaller island, but with the same amenities and simplicity of island camping.  Both ladies are  solid campers and paddlers and shouldn’t have any problems with the upcoming storms.  I let them know not to go past the second location unless I sent them another message because the water was definitely coming up and the towns were getting further apart with less places to find shelter and the storms are becoming incredibly large large with heavy rain and thunder.  I had contacted Sam about finding a boat ramp that I could possibly stop at and after paddling in torrential rain, I got to the boat ramp and realizing that it was in a complete armpit,  bug infested swamp that was flooding  due to the river rising. I had to continue down river even though it was getting close to 7 PM and my self imposed cutoff time I wanted be off the water every night. I headed out towards the next possible town, which is was 20 miles down river hoping to find something between. 5 miles down river I found a large sandbar that I was able to use for the night. Sand bars can be a risky location in flood conditions and can disappear in the middle of the night.  This bar was about 10 feet tall so I felt comfortable calling it home for the night. I used a bush and my kayak to set up my hammock which turned out to be a mosquito free and comfortable site with the sounds of the river and flashed of lightning putting me to sleep quickly.  This site might actually be the best night sleep I’ve had on the trip so far.

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You the same feeling as entering a haunted house.  Rounding the bend in the swift water, dodging floating trees and debris I located the ramp and was instantly excited. I noticed there were two kayakers on the ramp loading boats! I haven’t seen many other kayakers on the trip, but then recognize the two women from Facebook, who has been doing the river in stages over the last five years during the summertime as one of them to the school teacher. Just as I stopped at the ramp, the  police chief showed up, I quickly loaded my gear and supplies and the three of us decided to head out for a leisurely paddle of about 15 miles hoping for a campsite prior to dark. It was nice having the new company on the water and I it worked out great for them to kinda get their feet wet without jumping into the river at flood stage completely solo again. As we approach our campsite, it had a small concrete sidewalk that broke off in flooding that worked as the boat ramp and a picnic table that has been there for many years and had sunk about 12 inches into mud but still functional. After quickly setting up camp, we decided on a shared meal and then dove into our tents to avoid the mosquitoes. The next morning nervous wrestling of inflated sleeping pads squeaking started at about 5:15am.  as the bird started to chirp, we all got up, had a quick breakfast, packed our gear and hit the water. We paddled together for a few miles and then I headed out solo with a slightly faster pace for the day.

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The day was not exactly as expected. 

It started out paddling up to  lock #26 assuming that it was the very last lock I was paddle into, then realizing that lock #27 at the chain of rocks just above St. Louis was actually the last lock that I had to go through. Paddling over the chain of rocks has been done, but not at these water levels, and I needed to use the lock for safety reasons.

I ran into a couple of jet skiers below #26 who had remarkably done 13,000 miles exploring the rivers in the Delta’s off of the Mississippi, Missouri, Ohio, and Illinois rivers and clearly had as much organization and planning as I did because they had everything on their boats organized and stored efficiently, including spare fuel, all the camping gear & necessities designed for easy access. I had a pleasant conversation with them, exchanged information, and then continued on  to head down river towards lock #27, also known as the chain of rocks. 

Lock #27 has a large sign with a big blue arrow pointing left into a channel, 100’ wide with rap rock on both sides about 20’ tall to protect against erosion and about 7.5 miles long with virtually zero current.  I hit the lock about noon with sunny skies and virtually no wind.  Just as I finished the 7.5-mile grind, I was passed by the large barge usually indicating a long wait ahead like normal.  I was glad I had extra water for the wait but was surprised when the lock operator said they had two locks and I was clear to enter the smaller lock. The lock master was the only one with a bad attitude out of all 27 locks. He told me that the river was running high and that I should take the next 5 to 10 days off to let it go back down to be able to paddle and navigate that section safely. He told me that the tugboats wouldn’t be able to see me and that it was incredibly dangerous, etc. My gut feeling is he didn’t know the capabilities of my boat or the paddler. 

As the lock opened, I got to see the combined power of the Illinois River and the Mississippi River! As I ventured into the main channel, it was clear that it was at a very high stage of flooding as there was debris everywhere, and it instantly became combat paddling, which I actually thoroughly enjoyed because being somewhat nimble, it was like playing Frogger between gigantic trees, tugboats, barges, and other floating debris for about 15 or 20 miles down the river. When I saw the arch, it was all I could do to grab a photo or two, and there was zero chance of stopping to enjoy the crowds, the arch, or any of the amenities that St. Louis had to offer on this great holiday as the combat paddling just increased the closer I got to the arch. Once I was clear of the arch, the barges lined both sides of the river, sometimes 60 barges long and 3 barges wide with huge piles of debris smashing into the leading edge of the barges. I used extreme caution to avoid the currents in these areas as the strainers would be absolutely deadly in any size boat.   About 15 miles south of the arch, I realized I was running out of water, getting incredibly dehydrated, and started searching Google Maps and found a small boat repair shop that was closed for the day but I could access on the side of the river. I walked up the concrete boat ramp; I realized it was actually a repair shop for barges and  tugboats, and the only thing that was accessible was a random ice machine on the outside of the building. I’m sure they supplied the tugboat crews and employees headed out onto the river. I left a five-dollar bill inside the ice machine, and I’m sure someone on Monday is going to wonder why it’s there and absolutely enjoy a five-dollar bill, but I did take a bag of ice, so I wanted to pay for it. I sat on the concrete ramp putting ice back into my water bags and hydration packet and continued down the river looking for a place to stay for the night. 

 I eventually stopped at Kimmswick, which is a very small town like many others along the river that lost its importance. Once the larger cruise ships started bypassing it, the town just went to sleep. It had 1 hotel and two restaurants. The hotel only had two rooms and was already booked for the weekend. The restaurants closed at 6pm and all the businesses were shut down and closed until Tuesday . I knocked on a random homeowner’s door asking  if I could leave my boat in the front yard while I made the 3-mile walk to the nearest gas station to grab hydration and snacks for the next day.  After a quick 6-mile walk, I looked for a place to camp. This is the second time on my trip that I’ve had to sleep next to a sewer processing plant, but in the city of Kimmswick, it was the only place that had a little bit of grass and a couple of trees for my hammock.  

As I settled into the night, I realized that my 12-hour day of paddling, heavy lathering of sunscreen, followed by an additional lathering of bug spray had me feeling like I did back in the infantry after a couple of weeks in the field. I lay in my tent, sticking to myself and stewing in my own grime, not even wanting to use a sleeping bag because it’s Sams and I didn’t want to ruin it. Thinking back on it, Sams sleeping bag is a regular-length bag and has been the bane of my existence on this entire trip. I should ruin it and then just replace it with a long sleeping bag for people over 6 feet tall as trying to get inside it is virtually impossible. 

Dozing off to sleep, I realized the time that I missed celebrating in St. Louis and the halfway point of my trip has been made up for 100 times over visiting all the small towns and amazing people along the way.  Those towns and people are probably much more of a highlight than St. Louis would’ve been. 

Let’s see what tomorrow has to offer.

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This year i’m spending it on the river putting in long miles while watching others on sand bars gather together while others mow grass and get river houses ready for the summer. Today I miss my family, miss my friends and miss the community we have in the USA, but I am also enjoying the freedom to explore what others over the last couple hundred years have traveled with the same exact emotions as me. Today is a great day!

I think it was about 1:30pm when I cleared lock #25 and I drank most of my water waiting for the barge to clear the lock and head upstream.  Most of the time getting out of the kayak isn’t possible at the locks due to river currents and the rocky shoreline so sitting an hour or two can be a challenge. 

As I paddled downstream I caught the subtle hint of hotdogs being cooked on a bbq grill. It was the  smell of charcoal, the dogs slightly crispy with a bit of charred ends. It was the smell that comes with a visualization of a paper plate, 2 dogs on buns with just the right amount of condiments. I had no clue if it was my imagination or if it was true, but the thought of eating a dozen dogs sounded amazing if only in my imagination lol.

A couple miles down river there was a river house that stood out from many I have seen on this trip. Most of the homes in this part of the river are right on the river, built on stilts and have no yard based on the river flooding issues. Behind the homes, it typically looks like a jungle, with a notch cut out for the home with a dock. It is clear that most of the time is spent on the deck or on the dock. This home was different, it had great grass, everything mowed, the house set back off the water with a young kid power washing something and someone on a tractor cutting grass on the hill above the house.  I paddled to shore, the nose of my boat sliding into the Mississippi mud making it easy to get out, yet impossible to walk on the carpet lol. I walked up the long tapered grass yard to the high school aged kid power washing a trailer. It was clear he was doing it for the love of the trailer, not the chore that most take it.  He was like his grandfather on the tractor… a retired dentist maintaining the home his parents had before him.  I filled my water bag from the hose and headed back to the river when a woman walked out waving.  As she got closer she asked if her grandson offered any food.  I let her know all I needed was some water and was all set.  10 minutes later, I am eating the most amazing sandwiches only a grandma makes. Hawaiian bread, smoked turkey, just little squares of heaven!  I was quickly joined by the rest of the family, their daughter, her husband and both of the grandkids. (Dan, Pam, Adam, Tara, Hudson and Graham)  We gabbed like we had been friends for years, enjoying stories and life experiences.  It was obvious this family was very tight, a well built team with huge hearts.  Every single one of the was a leader, they all had confidence and are what true Americans are all about!  I wobbled back to my boat, grabbed a quick photo and bid them farewell.

The next group of people are the type

you love to see or hate to see.  They cruised up slowly not to tip me over before saying hello.  The clearly didn’t see me surfing the barge waves  prior to their arrival or they wouldn’t have worried about the wake.  These to game wardens checked to see that I was ok, let me know about some storms on the radar and grabbed a couple of photos for IG. We talked boat safety and fishing for a few minutes and then off they went to keep other people safe on the water.  I thanked them for working on the holiday and appreciated them for looking out for the small guy like me!

the weather changed quickly.  Fluffy clouds turned into much larger future thunder storms so it was time to call it a day. The usual conditions kicked in, is there a town close, is there a campground, is there a random stranger who will allow me to camp on the corner of the property & last is always camping on the river bank or sandbar.  Going down the list, I found a campground, paddled up and it was more of an air bnb.  I called the owner who said nope, the property was closed for the weekend. I took my boat out of the water and started walking down the dirt road looking for a couple trees to stretch my hammock before the approaching storms hit.  I rounded the corner and saw two great trees on the corner of a property with a couple trailers and loud Tejano music playing… Am I back in Texas?  As I walked up and asked about camping in the corner of the property the answer was instantly YES!  I happened to find a family enjoying the water and firing up the bbq. They happened to be boaters and UTV enthusiasts.  I quickly got squared away for the weather and then enjoying dinner with my 2nd family of the day. They had never traveled west, they didn’t know they are actually desert racers who haven’t ever been to the desert. If they transplanted to San Diego, they would be just as at home welcoming a stranger riding into camp in the desert.  All of them solid folks.

sadly I didn’t catch a photo of them but I did get Carters cell number.  ( He needs to experience Baja with us!)

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