Word for the day: UNFALTERING. After a disappointing amount of mileage yesterday, we needed to see what we could do. So we set out at first light and made steady progress.

I awoke around 5:15 in complete darkness. There was only the light of a barge tow a mile or so downriver that was parked there with engines idling most of the night. I suppose they didn’t want to navigate lock #24 in the dark, so like us they were planning to strike out at first light. I made coffee and instant oats by the light of the headlamp, then we prepared to breakdown camp.

As Mudd retreated for his regular morning routine, he saw 4 otters in the water right by our tents. When we arrived on the beach yesterday I noticed some odd tracks in the sand that looked like some rodent had been in battle with a snake. I didn’t mention this to Mudd because on day 1 we passed up a potential stealth camp partially because there was a 3’ long black racer retreating from our likely tent spot; I didn’t want to be spooked from this camp by snake tracks. But now I realized it was the footprints of otters followed by the paths of dragging tails that made the odd tracks in the sand. The otters bobbed in the water just a few feet from shore wondering who these strange creatures were that invaded their homeland. A short time later the barge tow started moving upstream and we started clearing out.

There was a slight wind and minor chop on the water, but things were progressing well. We commented how the first day with Mudd, I traveled 23 miles to his 30+ due to his serpentine path; now he was getting things under control and moving in more straight line fashion. Now he may not be setting any records, but he was at least becoming more efficient.

When we started the day we were down to about 1.5 gallons of water (from our 6 gallon inventory). We could get through the day on that amount, but it wouldn’t get us through breakfast tomorrow, so we wanted to find a supply. Due to the scarcity of towns along this stretch, the only likely option for water today was at the village of Hamburg, Illinois. We pulled in at the village riverfront park and got our empty water containers off the boat. Suddenly, the mayor showed up on his Kawasaki 4-wheeler.

Mayor Steve was very friendly, and helpful, though not quite full of the generous hospitality we’ve come to expect from River People. Steve worked for Kawasaki for about 30 years, mostly as a sort of “test pilot” putting prototype motorcycles, ATVs, and wave runners through some tests. He’s lived in Hamburg since 1991 and became mayor about 8 years ago, when nobody else on the village board wanted to do it. He talked about the work release program that had inmates in town mowing the lawn at the park; he said he was just about to go fix them lunch. He said we could spend the night in the park if we wished, though he recognized it wasn’t even noon, so laying up for the day didn’t seem likely. He said he would like to chat some more, but he had to go attend to lunch. Not waiting any longer for a lunch invitation that didn’t seem likely, I asked where to find the water – Steve pointed up a hill a few blocks to the village hall.

As I waited to cross the road with 4 empty gallon jugs, Steve pulled up next to me and we awaited a passing car. Then he sped up the hill on his ATV while I made the walk. Once I arrived, Steve yelled out, “The water’s in here.” He said he ran it for a few minutes to ensure the water would be nice and cold (excellent I thought, these jugs will keep the insides of our kayaks cool… for about 10 minutes.) Steve started frying some sausage and was getting out bread and a few dozen eggs. I filled the four gallon jugs, said my thanks, and was on my way. I was happy to replenish our water stores, but how about lunch with the inmates Steve? Or maybe a quick ride with my 30 pounds of water?

Back on the water we took a few shortcuts through channels to cut the mileage from the circuitous main channel. We found calm water, no sign of people and shaved off some distance. We didn’t think we had time to make it to the next lock before dark, so we started looking for a camp (about 5 minutes after passing a dedicated canoe paddle camp). All of the great sandbar options we had seen earlier were now nowhere in the vicinity. We kept paddling and searching, until finally the next dam came into sight. We thought about locking through tonight, but it was already after 5:00; it would be close to 6:00 if we locked through then found camp downstream. So, we “stealth camped” in the wide open on a crushed limestone path by the dam.

A few people walked by on their routine fitness regimen. We talked with one guy about our travels; he was happy to hear about our journey and wished us luck.

After we set up our tents and started dinner, we saw a single guy paddle a canoe past heading towards the lock. Another through paddler? Must be; who else would lock through downstream 30 minutes before sundown. I admired his drive to keep up to the last light and somewhat envied his choice to get through the lock while he could. But I was glad to have camp established, however unusual it was.

During dinner Mudd and I discussed our upcoming plans. At an average of 22 miles a day, it was going to take over 3 weeks to make it to Memphis. I needed to make better pace if I wanted to be home before November. Christin would be in St. Louis for the weekend, so we decided that’s where we would need to take out ‘Ol Yeller and end Steve’s journey. From there I would have to go it alone, maybe all the way to New Orleans, but that was what was going to be required to get me anywhere close to achieving my expected plan. We were both a bit sad about this conclusion, but glad we will have a week of memories together getting to St. Louis.

The other worrying thing… centipedes. Give me spiders and snakes over centipedes every day. These are one of the few things that really give me the creeps, and this limestone hideaway seemed to be a haven for these disgusting creatures. Seriously God, why so many legs? What’s the point? I tried not to let them bother me; and was happy to turn in early to the safety of my tent.

One thing I noticed a lot today: commercial airlines. About an hour into the day, it seemed we must’ve been on some popular flight paths to St. Louis. For hours it seemed every 6-8 minutes a plane would go overhead – mostly heading southwest. I saw a Delta airlines flight coming from the north and wondered if Brett Lecy was piloting (I think he flies for Delta, when he’s not laid up with baboon butt). It’s becoming more obvious that the wilderness is long behind and the hubbub of urbanites is in the air. Today’s song: Silver Bird by one hit wonder Mark Lindsay