Appropriate word for today: DEPLORABLE. Well, the whole day wasn’t really dreadful, but it was a bit of a rude and memorable start.

I didn’t sleep very well last night, first with the tugboat parked across the water, then I was hearing various animals scuffling around outside. Then just before sunrise came my wake up call – I think the coyotes had enough of me on their “island”. They howled and yipped for a few minutes on close proximity that got me up immediately. I went about my regular morning routine, and about 20 minutes later they started in again. There were howls from the woods 100’ away and responses from others on the other side of the river. They seemed so close that I was surprised not to see any of them.

The coyotes howled as if to say, “You have desecrated our sacred beach with your regular morning offering! Prepare to feel the full wrath of our coyote empire! We call on our brethren across the great waters to join us in your ultimate demise!”

And the brethren across the waters responded, “Uh, thanks but no thanks. See we’re happy living off of I-57 roadkill and don’t really hold the “sacred beach” in the same regard. I mean, I’m the end it’s just Island 28 at upper Mississippi mile marker 14.2; we know we haven’t been back since Covid, but I doubt it’s changed much. Besides, you’re dealing with the dreaded pirate Blueboat there, going at him is a death wish! Anyway, good luck whatever you decide; we’ve got day old armadillo and a side of box turtle mash here!”

Then all went silent. No attack came. Coyotes fear me.

Mile marker 14.2 means that’s all I have left of the Upper Mississippi; after the Ohio River confluence the Lower Mississippi starts at mile marker 952 and my destination in New Orleans is around mile 95. So, setting out this morning left about 871 miles to go. Kevin canoeist texted yesterday to tell me that he met someone with experience who says flow will get even better once the Ohio joins – that would be great, but we’ll see.

By the way, I never gave Kevin canoeist a Wacky Races character! That seems unfair as I’ve now had more contact with him than any other travelers. And, he’s made a few comments to me about our personal “race to the bottom”. So, Kevin canoeist is now Dick Dastardly. Not that Kevin is evil, but he seems to have a bit of a rivalry; and he’s had a few run-ins with the law that give him a disreputable persona (though he hasn’t done anything wrong in these situations). And, he’s working on a killer mustache while on the river. So, welcome Dick Dastardly!

I can’t recall if I’ve mentioned previously, but in many spots along the river there are underwater obstacles or formations that cause the river to “boil” up in places. These things seem to be worse in shallow water, and when the river is flowing fast. They’re not really dangerous, but they do tend to redirect you and push you off your intended path. I tried to capture some of this on video today, but I’ll have to remember to try again when the lighting is better as it’s hard to see here (or they just weren’t that dramatic here).

I also tried to catch a little of the Asian carp action today. What was initially quite startling with these fish transformed into mundane, and now loathsome. These are lazy creatures that sit at the surface of calm waters, so when you see them you know the river is not moving with much pace. I know they’re not to blame for the pace, but their association with slow waters makes their existence detestable.

And speaking of river pace… I hate the Ohio River. This thing came into a fast flowing Mississippi and bogged it down. Immediately at the joining the Mississippi became many times wider and seemed to be going nowhere. As I told Dick Dastardly on this stretch, the river at the confluence is stagnant, smells like dead fish and buzzes with flies. And talk about an alarming Asian carp population! That was the only sign of wildlife. Though if I would’ve had my Merlin bird app functioning it would’ve picked up some Rohde Island Red or Barnevelder clucking somewhere behind the trees on the Missouri bank. To add a bit more insult, during my floating lunch break here the wind blew in my face and started piling green-gray gunk from the river’s surface into a thick collection next to my boat. I’m not sure if I’ve experienced a worse scene on this journey.

With the heat of the day, and more predicted in the coming days, I need to focus on acquiring water as much as possible. I had 2 full gallons still on board, but that wouldn’t last me to Memphis. I had entered a stretch after lunch that had lots of Ingram Transportation tugboats moving barges around; in the midst of this was an Ingram company office. I’m going to need to get bold and creative if I’m going to expand my watering hole options. So, the dread pirate Blueboat ran ashore and marched into the Ingram offices demanding water! Lee (who appeared to be the highest ranking employee on site) was very helpful. He offered me coffee, which I appreciated but didn’t feel like hours old hot coffee would quite hit the spot before returning to 90 degree heat. I filled two empty gallon jugs and left while Lee was in a meeting; I was sorry not to thank him and say goodbye.

Around 6 pm I settled down on a very large expanse of beach near Hickman Kentucky; it was the kind I’m now looking for, where trees and coyotes are several stone’s throws away. I did see what looked like a lone coyote track across my beach, but I was comfortable being distanced from the woods.

My sister Ellen sent me the quote below today, which seemed timely. I’ve certainly seen (and experienced) a lot of strangeness, and much of it has been a wonderful beauty. Thanks Ellen; I’d like to say I’m sorry about the whole Benji fish teasing, but that wouldn’t be sincere, it’s a dumb name for a goldfish.

For the playlist, I’m going back to the Elvis well today, maybe as a little prayer for some heat relief. Dick Dastardly has been rained on for a few days, while I’ve seen none 60 miles downstream. So, help me Elvis with some Kentucky Rain (though I won’t be in Kentucky for long!)