Today’s word: FORLORN. The sky was gray from sunrise to sundown, and I was being dropped off again, this time without a side dish to help sustain me. Though this is really what I had signed up for: being alone on the river for days, I found myself questioning today more than any other – why am I doing this? I’m now not sure about yesterday’s Twain quote, as I’m finding more difficulty “getting back in.” But, adventure and new friends await and today it was time to restart.

In my replanning, I determined that my extra day off would mean I needed over 25 miles per day if I put back in at LeClare to get to Hannibal on the weekend as intended. That was surely doable, but what if south winds kick up again (it’s supposed to warm up again this week), what if I start hitting heavy barge traffic at the locks, what if I had some sort of breakdown, what if the Hammerwound Kid and his gang start pursuing me… I felt like I needed some more distance for greater assurance in this solo leg. I intended to skip 50 miles (I wouldn’t regret skirting the Quad Cities, though maybe Ike’s old classmate Narita could’ve thrown me some cafeteria food from Augustana college), that would put me around Muscatine Iowa. But where would Christin drop me that I could stay? Months ago I had plotted out several options along the whole journey to ‘Nawlins, but my plans in this area just showed stealth camp after stealth camp; surely there are some legitimate options where Christin could drop me that wouldn’t require an immediate paddle to stealth camp, but I don’t really want to be doing a lot of research while we drive. In the end, I debated about dropping in at Burlington Iowa, but I had noted a potential bed and breakfast if I go past the dam to Montrose.

I had highlighted Pelican Pegs B & B as a potential lodging many months ago. I called her and learned she was ‘closed’ for the next month. So, I went back to the drawing board. I couldn’t immediately find other easy options, then I had an idea: I called Peg back, “Can I just pitch a tent on your lawn?” She gave a little laugh and said okay, then warned me that her niece Jennifer was staying in the house. Peg was out of town and would return hours later.

When we got to Peg’s, we were amazed by all the swallows darting around eating “Mormon flies.” I’m not sure if these are different from mayflies, but in these parts they’re Mormon flies. We’re across the river from Nauvoo Illinois where the angry mob attacked Mormon founder Joseph Smith and then ran Brigham Young and the eventual Utah settlers out of town. I suppose this has something to do with the naming of the flies, but I didn’t research or ask.

I found out that the reason Peg’s B&B was closed was because her niece Jennifer was staying with her for a month. Peg told me that Jennifer would be in the house “working” when I arrived. As Christin and I were unloading the car, Jennifer came out with her dogs Bonnie and Clyde. I went to shake her hand, but her right hand was enveloped in a protective brace, so she offered me her left hand. Somehow I imagined that Jennifer was a notorious bank robber with her sidekicks Bonnie & Clyde; she was on the lam and hiding out at Peg’s, at least until her injured trigger finger healed. I didn’t ask what “work” she did, but this version of Jennifer made sense to me. (Sorry Jennifer if I’ve given away your safe house!)

As I said earlier, the weather was gray, chilly and damp. I was considering where to set the tent when Jennifer offered her van as an alternative for the night. It was parked in Peg’s yard by the river. Rain was predicted, it was going to be a chilly night, I wanted to make an early start tomorrow… and an opportunity to live in a van down by the river! (This one’s for you Pam Reid: Chris Farley – Living in a van down by the river.) And not just any van, but the getaway van of a notorious bank robber! My blog readers will love this!

Christin and I had Casey’s pizza for lunch in town, then said our goodbyes – we’ll meet again in St. Louis. Peg came home later and came to see me as I was packing up my kayak on a concrete landing by the water; she drove down on a riding lawnmower with a leaf blower in hand: “I thought I might as well put you to work.” My job was to clear off the landing that was littered with leaves, sticks and acorns. I did such a good job at that, my next task was to do the same clearing of the decks, which were mostly littered with dead Mormon flies. After that, Peg had me mount her Parrothead signs on the side of the garage as tribute to Jimmy Buffet.

They have an annual beach themed party at the local marina where Peg is the chief decorator; her garage had several beachy decorations. I hung the signs to complete her tribute project and was glad she didn’t have me hang the 10’ guitar or the two pairs of 4’x8’ plywood flip flops. Peg is a big Jimmy Buffet fan.

In the afternoon the rain came. Peg and Jennifer invited me to visit the grocery store with them, but I really didn’t need any provisions and was happy to be alone for a while. I hung out on the deck until the rain caused me to retreat to my van hideaway. I felt bad about not being more social in the evening with my hostesses, but I had lots on my mind and needed to do some writing, so I chose solitude and an early retirement for the evening. I was in bed by 9pm and prepared to launch early in the morning.

I know Jimmy Buffet passed away a few days before my stay at Pelican Peg’s; maybe 2 weeks before this post was published? But, in his memory and for Pelican Peg and her Parrothead pals, I wanted to put forth a little tribute: A Pirate Looks at Forty, rest in peace Jimmy, and thanks for leaving us your music.