Unfortunately today’s word is: DISHEARTENING. Maybe it didn’t come across in the write up, but I was feeling pretty upbeat after a bit of recovery yesterday. Yes, the day was an absolute slog, but it was a good accomplishment that I really needed. Today and tonight are the dichotomy of yesterday.

After the tough day, I planned to get a later start and give myself some recovery hours. I was thinking maybe I get underway at 8 or 8:30. It seemed getting yesterday’s blog posted, dealing with muddy shoes, and trying to clean up the boat a bit all took up time: launch was at 9:30. Disappointing, but at 4mph I could still get in 35 miles by 5:30.

But before I took off… remember that precursor of an island I thought about sleeping on last night? This morning, gone. So I may have gotten aggravated by the quicksand, but at least I didn’t have waves coming in the front door in the middle of the night.

Strom has been relegated to the cargo hold with the empty water jugs. I just felt I couldn’t be myself with him around. I’m sure some people were happy when he showed up organically like that on the water. But, I felt like I was trying to hard to make him a part of my day. And others passing probably thought: “This guy’s no castaway; he’s got maps on his phone, and a spreadsheet with his plans, he’s surrounded by civilization and commercial marine operations, and he’s just going to Bourbon Street!” I know I said none of the main characters would be killed, well Strom was really more of a cameo appearance. I’m sure Jack Black or Trey Parker will probably do his voice in the Captain Charcuterie movie, and maybe he’ll have a bigger role there, but I just can’t have him looking at me anymore. And when I tried looking at the back of his head, I tended to make a lot of nasty faces at him. So, Strom watching over the least valuable cargo is best, though that’s not quite how I explained it to him.

After I got underway, I scratched my back and realized, I really do need a shower or a bath. I’ve have a build up of sunscreen and a few days of bug spray that has managed to paste the fine sand grains to my skin. If anyone needs to finish a pinewood derby car before painting, a few rubs on my back would do the trick. Maybe that’s why that alligator and the beavers were so interested 2 nights ago, when I was changing clothes they couldn’t tell what I was. “He looks like human, but that skin looks more lizard like.” “Maybe he’s one of them Bigfoots?” “No, they have fur; and his feet aren’t big enough.”

Which brings me to another topic. When it was raining that day last week , my headline was almost “rain drops keep falling on my head”, but then the next line, “just like guy who’s feet are too big for his bed” just aggravates me. I mean, have you ever met a real person, not some costumed character at Disney World, but a real person who’s feet are too big for their bed. And that song won an Oscar. Someone should remake that song and fix that line is all I’m saying.

Now, on the water, windy again from the start. I took a break around 11 and discovered I was doing a little more than 3 mph. About 2 hours later I stopped for lunch. Same pace. I can’t do 35 miles at this pace, I would need to go until 9pm. I wasn’t loafing, but I also wasn’t pushing hard like yesterday. So after lunch I tried to pick it up a bit. Next break I found I was doing about 3.5 mph.

The wind was not helping; as I explained yesterday, if it’s not directly at your back, then it knocks you out of line, or pushes against you; and with the constant twists in the river, the wind is all over the place.

And the flow is gone. In fact, I probably only saw 20 buoys all day, in over 8 hours on the water. I was used to passing a buoy every 3-5 minutes, now none. Which means the river is so deep and wide that they don’t really need to mark a channel anymore. Which also means the flow is imperceptible. The few buoys I did pass seemed only to be moving due to the choppy waters created by the wind. These buoys seem happy to be here on the sidelines rather than upstream where there’s more action.

So I knew early on that it wouldn’t be quite the day expected. I started today needing a little less than 32 miles per day to finish on Thursday; I only did 29 today which brings the average up to nearly 33 miles for 3 days. I decided to stop at a reliable beach spot around 5:45 tonight in order to give myself a shot at 6 good hours of sleep before a very early start; I plan to be on the water well before sunrise.

Otherwise, not much interesting happened today. No interesting flotsam. I did see 3-4 milk crates, all of them right side up. Though then I thought, if these things were floating in the water, they probably float right side up, since that is the lighter end. So they naturally just settle that way when they land on the sand. So now even the thrill is gone from the milk crates!

I did pass by a barge repair facility; there was traffic in the channel so I stayed close-ish to shore here. Someone from atop a tugboat waved hello, but one of the workers (foreman maybe?) gave me a two handed “get the hell away from here” sorta wave. I felt sorry for him as I realized he’s probably one of those people that choose to go through life angry, disgruntled. And their joy comes when they can drag someone else into their anger vortex. Well sorry pal, but that won’t be me. I just smiled and waved.

I did find a nice beach again, though they’re becoming more sparse. But, I saw the same beaver prints and slide marks about 100 feet from up the beach. As I write tonight I’ve heard a beaver in the water, and heard him scampering away from my vicinity when I was about to take a look. There’s also a bit of sniffing and snorting in the woods behind me, but it sounds a little different to what I’ve heard before from the deer. But, I’m not really concerned, I’m tired, and I’ll remember new rules 3 and 4. Kevin (Dick Dastardly) reminded me that it’s the gators you don’t see that you need to worry about. I haven’t seen a gator in 2 days…😬

This time, I will keep the music in line with the headline. That is how I feel. The scenery is not really changing. There’s likely no new people to meet out here. I passed a construction site earlier and imagined maybe someone would fall off into the river and I would paddle in for the rescue, but that didn’t happen. Not much happened but the usual: paddle, peddle, rest, eat, drink, repeat. I couldn’t even stay out for the full sunset tonight; I packed up my chair and retreated to the tent while colors were still changing. That’s a sign. I still feel I’m very blessed to have this opportunity, but three more days will be plenty. B.B. King: The Thrill Is Gone