Word for today: ODIFEROUS. I mean, I could’ve come up with something more victorious for my conquest to Memphis, but I gotta say that I stink. I’ve been washing in the river most every day this week, and trying to wash my clothes there as well. But there’s only so much you can do with muddy water a biodegradable soap. And the worst part is certainly these paddling gloves; I’m reminded of their potent aroma nearly every time I swing my blades. Don’t get your hopes up for this playlist addition, but in the words of that J. Geils classic – GLOVE STINKS. We all need a good wash in Memphis!

Today’s weather forecast: hot, clear, slight wind; I’m stuck in these unfavorable conditions. So I decided last night that I would get on the water before sunrise. I was 51 miles from the Mud Island Marina in Memphis and I wanted to make it there for dinner, so sacrifices had to be made: I made up my oatmeal the night before, and decided to forgo coffee. No French Precious!

This also meant I had to do all my regular morning things in the dark. I broke out the silly inflatable light thingy that Lecy left behind; it was a good bathroom light.

The commercial traffic today was quite a contrast to what I saw yesterday; I’m not sure why Saturday was so much busier than Friday, but I counted 20 barge tows before lunch. Additionally, these tows were getting bigger: there were five with 35 barges and one with 42: 210 feet wide and 1,365 feet long! Many of the bigger ones were being pushed by ADM tugboats. Also, the more barges, the bigger the tugboats and the bigger waves and churn for me, which became a hassle. I did have one tug give a friendly honk as they passed, and another with 36 barges actually slowed down to reduce the waves when he passed in a narrow channel; I was grateful for the acknowledgement.

As the day wore on, the heat started to have its effect on me. I was slowing and more easily aggravated. I got frustrated passing a green buoy that showed no indications of any current. I yelled, “Flow, eat my grits!” A little while later a butterfly landed on the front of my boat. It was one of those swallowtails that had some bright blue colors; one like you might see tattooed on someone’s arm. At first I wondered weather that was some kinda good luck charm, then I yelled “Get off my boat your freeloader! You’re weighing me down!”

At my second morning break I called the Mud Island Marina; I still had 35 miles to go but told them I should be able to make it there around 4pm. John said he was looking forward to meeting me and happy to help me out. 35 miles and I’d given myself 6.5 hours to get there. From there on I just kept breaking it down in 5 mile stretches.

There were some very long stretches with little discernible current, and there was no sign of a city on the horizon. With 15 miles to go, still no sign of Memphis. Certainly there should be some tall buildings or a water tower in Memphis; where were they hidden? Or maybe I read the map incorrectly? Did I start the day 50 miles away, or 150 miles? Could I make that large a blunder? With 5 days of cooked brain, maybe.

About 12 miles away I saw some black animals on the shore. I got close enough to determine they were wild boars or feral pigs. I didn’t hear any of them singing Hakuna Matada, so I’m guessing feral pigs. I really didn’t want to expend more energy getting closer.

Finally, with 10 miles to go, I could see the skyline. I was going to make it! But like Mudd used to say on the river, “things right in front of you are not as close as they appear.” It is sometimes depressing to see the destination as the distance from those objective targets seems to grow rather shrink. But I was happy to see Memphis.

The marina is located on a channel about a mile north of the intersection with the river. So after 50, I had another to go back up to the marina, but I was just happy to be in the shadow of the skyline. Halfway up a boat passed me, the woman passenger on the boat looked at me peddling and said, “That’s how to get your exercise! Good for you.“ I wanted to tell her I’ve been doing this for 10 hours! And 10 hours yesterday, and the day before that, and before that… but I just listened to advice from penguin Skipper: I just smiled and waved.

I was wiped out on arrival. John’s employee David directed me where I could dock the boat. David lives at the marina and assured me that everything would be safe. It took me 30 or more minutes to sort out what to leave and what to take, and i finally got myself situated to carry three dry bags, my dirty laundry bag, and my Thermos. John said he’d give me a ride to the hotel, but he needed to tend to something and would be 45 minutes. There was a bridge overhead that would get me to town, and it looked like the hotel was less that a half mile away, so I decided to walk. But, John said I couldn’t carry all those bags that way, so he reached into the boat and extended to me a thin piece of driftwood about 8’ long, “You need a hobo stick.” Of course I did! How else could I possibly walk into town!

The walk ended up being about a mile and a half. And halfway through I broke the stick in half as it was awkwardly far too long and I worried about bumping into people as I reached the center of town. I got some looks, though interestingly most of them seemed approving, almost congratulatory. One guy at a tent selling Rastafarian hats and clothes that looked like costumes said, “Look at you, dude.” I gave a smile and a nod.

After a shower, I went to a bar called the Kooky Canadian where I got a burger and some baked beans while watching college football. I didn’t think I’d have the energy to get out for live music on Beale street, but I felt revived and it was only 3 blocks away. I stopped into 3 different places and enjoyed them all for a few songs. I stayed out until after 10 then went back to the hotel. Bill Rohde texted earlier to say I looked giant, but apparently Siri corrected him as he intended to say gaunt. So before I crashed, it was time for a second dinner; I got a club sandwich at the DoubleTree bar, then went to bed.

For today’s playlist addition, it seems appropriate to give a flavor of the music scene here: King Curtis Memphis Souls Stew