Word for today: DISEMBARKING. I know I’ve had a few days off, but this time I take time off in Hannibal, Mark Twain’s hometown. Yes, I was in Hannibal less that a week ago with Christin to drop off ‘Ol Yeller, but this is the visit from my original plan. However, because I skipped too many miles in Iowa, or traveled more than I planned the last few days, I’m now arriving in Hannibal a day earlier for a luxurious 2 day break. I feel a little remorseful that I could’ve done more river, but had I done so we wouldn’t have met Pelican Peg or had the Warsaw Gun Club experience. It all happened as it was supposed to, and I’m grateful for what I experienced, so I need to not be regretful.

I talked with Christin this morning before I shoved off about some upcoming logistical issues. I am expecting to meet some Batavia friends in Hannibal who will be bringing some needed supplies. They were supposed to be delivered to our home already, but as of this morning they hadn’t arrived. I called the supplier who gave me a USPS tracking number. Paper gets wet on the river so I grabbed a pen and wrote on the first thing I could think of – my arm. Suddenly, I pictured myself in a modern Mississippi River version of Les Miserables. I’ve been imprisoned for the simple crime of being regular on US Army Corps soil in a hole of insufficient depth (but all I have is a garden trowel! I can’t very well dig a WW II foxhole every time I have to poop!) Russell Crow is glowering down on me from atop lock #19 “🎼 Five years for what you did 9405511205995487355904… I am Javert! Do not forget my name!” “My name is Matt Valmatt. I know what I did. I don’t think five years is fair. But I know someday I will be free to go and see what this new world will do for me. 🎼” I could probably go on to invent a whole Les Mississippiables story, but my mind is moving on to today’s journey, but the arm tattoo was a fun start to the day.

Today would be a comparative call walk into Hannibal – a little over 7 miles. I was hopeful for some quiet time alone before meeting up with Steve Mudd for a 3 night stay at his house. Also, Lori & Kurt Ten Haken would be visiting from Batavia, hopefully bringing some deliveries to prisoner 9405511205995487355904.

Another calm morning made for a pleasant and relaxing travel to Hannibal. There were three fishermen in a John boat anchored two miles north of town. They didn’t seem to be having much luck. I said, “Good morning” as I went steadily past; one of them said hello and the other two just stared. As I approached the bridge from Illinois, I saw another 55’ marker, and had to take another photo – thanks Lecy for pointing that out in Sabula.

I got closer to Hannibal when what to my wondering eyes should appear but the LST 325 and a sign of cold beer! The ship passed me last night, only to wait for me in the next town; too scarred to travel alone I’m sure.

As I passed by the ship, I felt like a bit of a celebrity: “Mom, look at the kayak!” “Hey mister, where you goin’?” “How many miles you been?” “Where’d you start?” The ship was crawling with tourists and it seemed many were also excited to learn about my adventures. I yelled up some answers, waved generously, then cruised around the ship into the marina. Last week I talked with the city department that runs the marina who were happy to have me lock up there for a few nights.

I grabbed a few valuable bags from the kayak and walked to town; I trusted the Navy destroyer to blast anyone off the dock who tries to molest my stuff. I looked for the nearest place that could provide lunch and a cold beer: the Rio Grande bar & grill. Huevos rancheros would suit me just fine. I sat at the bar and realized, under the lacquered top, there were various types of currency in denominations of 2. I felt right at home: when I used to travel on business I used to make various wagers with me co-workers (most notably Roman Brozny) in 2 of the local currency (pounds, Euros, Aussie dollars, Yen, etc.). I’m not sure how it started, but I always carry $2 bills on me today for this sort of endeavor. Some of you may curiously find one someday in your belongings. As I ate my lunch, Christin told me the USPS came through moments before the Ten Hakens left town – everything was as it should be and I could enjoy a few gluttonous days in Missouri. Steve Mudd picked me up as I finished my beer and we drove to his home in Monroe City, where I showered for the first time in nearly 5 full days.

A short while later we returned with Mudd’s wife Kathie to Hannibal. We arrived just before Kurt & Lori. We had a little walk around town while we talked mostly about my highlights from the river. Lori said she was wanting to be careful what she did and said so she wouldn’t appear in a bad light on the blog; Kurt didn’t seem to care – any publicity is good publicity for him. After some modest sight seeing, we decided to go to dinner at… the Rio Grande! As Christin knows, I could eat Mexican food all day every day, so this just continued my lucky day.

After dinner we made a stop at Lover’s Leap overlooking the Mississippi ; this place purportedly was site to a sort of Native American Romeo & Juliet who kept to their death while being pursued by some warriors from Juliet’s tribe. I’m not sure how much of this was true: there were no names or even tribes mentioned, but it was a nice view of the river. I was missing the river on this beautiful night, or maybe I just felt like I was cheating on it somehow or not holding up some sort of promise. But, I was determined to not be regretful and enjoy the weekend.

That evening we went to the Hannibal Hootenanny, a fall festival with bands, food and drink. We were really impressed by the Silver Bullets who were from Quincy Illinois. They played a lot of geezer grooves, but often using an electric banjo in lieu of guitar. Their renditions of everything they performed were excellent, so much so that I found myself buying all three of them a beer and chatting backstage for a while. They told me they saved their best song for last but got booted off for the headline act before the got to it: Cheap Trick’s Surrender (Riverquest Rhythm day 14); I’ll look for a show from these guys if I get back to Quincy sometime.

We stuck around for most of the headliners: Soul Root, but we were all a bit tired so we left around 10pm and headed back to our cozy beds at Mudd

Being in the hometown of Mark Twain, this may be an obvious music choice today, this one’s again for you Bill Rohde as I know you’re a closet fan of this Canadian trio: Tom Sawyer by Rush