Word of the day: RESOLVED. I’m not sure exactly what all has been resolved, but the journey and its immediate effects are complete.

I’m posting this from home, where I left 11 weeks ago tomorrow. I left in the middle of summer and returned nearly mid-autumn.

A few weeks ago my phone stopped recognizing my face when I went to unlock it. I’m sure the Lorax facial hair has it slightly confused, but I am also much thinner everywhere; the twenty pounds that have gone missing seems to have been shaved away in equal proportions over my whole body. At dinner three nights ago we laughed about how different I look. I’m a little smaller, a lot more grizzled, darkly tanned, and ‘veinier’. Christin and the guys in New Orleans periodically commented how different I looked, and to experience my voice and personality from this altered appearance was perplexing. I wasn’t expecting this physical impact, but I don’t expect it’s permanent. I wrote several times about the stairmaster style of the pedaling, and doing this on average for 9-10 hours a day was sure to have a physical impact; I just didn’t see it coming. But I was glad to know that my personality seemed unchanged.

I am somewhat sad that this opportunity is over. This was difficult, often anxiety inducing, and sometimes frightening, but I was blessed to have the opportunity and the experiences that will have lasting impact. Some of the daily anxiety of it still exists, as if I’m still on a short hiatus before launching again in a day or two, but that feeling will continue to fade. Interestingly Christin has a similar feeling; she’s been widowed and reunited with me a few times in the past 70 days, and it hasn’t quite sunk in that I’m back to stay; that period of life is over. Like when your kids grow and move away from home: for a while it just seems like a temporary change, but this cessation of life on the Mississippi is permanent; again, “there ain’t gonna be no rematch.”

I have thought it would be neat to be able to recreate the full 70 days of experience in a short duration of a few days, maybe. Like some sort of greatest hits version of the journey. If we could drop into those thick cattails from day 1, then across a stretch of long calm lake, then cross a piece of Winnibigoshish, travel through wild oats and marshland, experience the quickening and winding waters through downed trees and great fishing holes, cruise through some locks and be abused by Lake Pepin winds, feel the flow of the Missouri River confluence and the increasing barge traffic, camp on big swaths of private sandy beach, see the ever widening expanse and the larger ocean going marine traffic, and push into the start of more muddy banks of the lower part of the river… if I could somehow fast forward through all of these things in a few days with friends, that would be great; the changes that took place on the river along the way were amazing.

I said a few times in the blog that the scenery was rather unchanging; and day to day that was pretty true, but over the course of 2 months there were dramatic differences. An analogy I thought of the other day: imagine you’re on a stair master on an open air trailer being pulled on the highway; and you’re traveling from San Francisco or Seattle to Chicago; and you’re being pulled along at 4 mph, for 10 hours a day. You’ll experience lots of different scenery, and you’ll see some interesting things along the way, but it all comes at you slowly.

As much as the blog writing was an unrelenting burden, I really enjoyed the opportunity to write. I do wish the days on the water were a little shorter to allow more time to write. In looking back through my notes, there were lots of things I didn’t write about: I didn’t tell about the night I went out to relieve my bladder and in the morning saw in the sand a damp pattern that looked exactly like the African continent; I couldn’t get that Toto song out of my head for days (“I hear the drums echoing tonight, but she hears only whispers of some quiet conversations…”). I didn’t write about the occasional and unpredictable rattle in the spare paddle that sometimes made me sound like a diamondback (not the Diamondback that Bella Preston is shopping for); and this rattle may sound more intimidating in my pirating but would betray me in sneaking up on vampires. I didn’t write about the long stretch of jug fishing lines that I was curiously about to pull up and check for catfish, when suddenly a small Jon boat came up behind me to do just that: rule #17 – never touch another man’s jugs without permission, which I think can be applied off the river. There are several instances like these that the rush to get something posted meant an oversight and exclusion of some observations.

I am glad many of you have enjoyed and commented on the writing. Knowing I was providing some shared enjoyment for others kept me wanting to keep it up. As I told Shootman early on, and probably mentioned in a blog, I couldn’t just provide a diary of my day: Today we traveled 20 miles… It was hot… We saw 3 beaver and 6 turtles… We had undercarriage stroganoff for supper and saw a beautiful sunset before we were killed by a large bear… So I had to add some flair and share my imaginative thoughts; it’s really the only way I could’ve done this. I’m sure some people found some of this juvenile or tiresome; I know I unintentionally offended some people; and I probably shared more about myself and my thoughts than I expected. If I offended you or you think less of me from this experience, I’m sorry for that; though I think my family and others that know me well probably got what they expected.

My intention in all this certainly wasn’t to impress anyone. Yeah, well you skipped like 2/3rds of the distance with your ‘hyperspace’ uses, and my recollection is that you were out there just looking for excuses to drink beer with perfect strangers! You probably pilfered half of those photos from the Sierra Designs website for their Clip Flashlight 2 tent. And over the next few weeks I’ll probably be intentionally unimpressive as I get back to a new normal. Did you hear, Captain Charcuterie just binge watched 97 straight hours of Game of Thrones! That guy is legend! But I look forward to seeing friends and family and further sharing my experiences in person.

I was asked several times by people, most recently by an Uber driver in New Orleans, ‘what made you want to do this?’ I still don’t know. I feel that I was in need of something that was both a mental and physical challenge, and this seemed to fit the bill. As I was nearing completion, I can attest that the challenge was greater than expected, mentally and physically. I certainly don’t regret it. Christin asked me last night if I knew it was going to be this challenging, would I still do it; I said I would, but maybe I would’ve prepared differently and advised the side dishes better on what to expect.

I do want to thank the side dishes. This experience would not have been the same without them. I don’t know how much they did this to support me, and how much for their own experience, but I’m grateful we agreed to the plans we made and the times we had. A few folks commented to me that maybe I was a little hard on them in the blog, but I don’t think anything that has happened or been said has done anything but strengthen these friendships. Andrea Preston asked that I provide a top 10 list of my memories, which is really hard to do, but I can say the most fun I had were times with Dave, Chad, Mark and Steve: the unexpected oasis at Joe & Christine’s farm with Dave on Day 8; the lashing of boats together in order to fry fish by the light of the moon with Chad; the 37 mile day ending against all odds for Sarah’s birthday dinner at Sullivan’s Supper Club with Mark; the improbable Stag party on the massive private island in view of the Gateway Arch with Steve… these were fun experiences that couldn’t have happened on my own. As Chad noted at dinner on Friday, the blog record really only scratches the surface of our shared experiences; I know these guys have gained a lot from the times we had together, and for that I’m grateful.

I said before that I had two objectives on this journey: to somehow make myself a better person, and to make the world a little better place.

We came out of our hotel on Friday morning to find our car had been double booted (I guess one boot in NOLA is not enough). I really blame this on SpotHero directing me to the wrong lot and having inaccurate photos that looked like the incorrect lot where we parked. Christin was impressed by my calm handling of this situation and my polite conversation with Justin at SpotHero. When Ron Preston expressed his disappointment with the Highway 6 pirate, my response was that it wasn’t right for somebody to steal our bags, but I was sympathetic because they likely were more in need than me. When the security guard at the Vicksburg casino implied I was a vagrant just coming in to use the bathroom, my response was to approach her with a smile and near embrace to assure her I belonged there. I think these behaviors probably had a seed that predated this journey, but they were germinated by the waters of the Mississippi. I’m sure my outlook and interactions have been positively affected in ways I can’t really explain and maybe in ways I don’t really know. I do believe that most people are good and want to have helpful and friendly relationships with others, and my experiences over the 69 day journey have reinforced that. I’m sure to have angry reactions, and not always be friendly or helpful in the future, but I expect these will be lessened. The river has had an impact on me.

I do think I have had tangible, positive influences on the world around me during this journey. I didn’t go single-mindedly searching for ways to make the world a better place, but with a “love others” mindset I found myself in situations where I believe I’ve had an impact. I know I can do more, and the river has taught me to look for more to do, to pay it forward. In my late night at Mike’s Fish Shack on Day 26, he told me that he’s saved the lives of 4 people along his life journey; he said each one of those experiences touched him deeply, and changed him in a permanent way. I know my friend Geeto who’s a fireman and paramedic with a few saves under his belt would say the same thing. I know I haven’t acutely saved anyone’s life here in the same way, but I do hope that I’ve made some type of positive impression on some lives.

I’m also grateful to have brought some joy to some of you through this blog, either in sharing some improbable events or in sharing my sense of humor. Mark introduced me to a New Orleans resident friend the other night as a writer, which I thought was funny. I’ve written letters and cards, but not much else before this blog. I’ve had a long dream of writing something sometime, maybe a book. But, I quickly rebutted Mark’s writer introduction, though later accepted after his acknowledgment. As I said, I’m glad some people have enjoyed this writing, and maybe that too has made the world a little better place.

Oh, quick side note: Mark’s friend, Samantha, owns and runs the Ayu Bakehouse in New Orleans. They have the most delicious baked goods I’ve ever tasted. We went there Saturday morning before the guys left for the airport, then Christin and I had to go back again on Sunday morning before leaving town. If you’re ever in New Orleans, go to Ayu Bakehouse. Also… Samantha’s aunt is Dump Bar Sally! What a great connection this was.

With some sorrow, this is my last post. Thanks for everyone who helped me to keep on to see this through: Thanks to the friends and family who joined me and visited me along the way. Thanks for the support and enjoyable hospitality of all the “river people” along the way. Thanks even to the Hwy 6 pirate, Hammerwound Harry, and all the naysayers out there that made me smarter and more resolved in completing.

In my last day in New Orleans I saw a poster that caught my eye, then in a bar in Memphis the next day I saw a similar sticker, they both said ‘Live A Great Story’. I hope to remember that and do that in the future. We should all remember to seek out adventure, choose happiness, treat others with kindness, and be grateful to God for this wonderful world.

I don’t have another adventure in mind. I hope to do interesting and meaningful things in the future, but I don’t know what that looks like. For now, I’m still letting this 69 day experience marinate: I traveled about 1,800 miles of the Mississippi River; I put about 3.5 million steps on the stair master; I blogged about 100,000 words and over 1,000 images; I dodged hundreds of tugboats and thousands of barges; I compiled a 5 hour and 22 minute playlist as soundtrack to my journey; I spent 24 hours outdoors without a solid roof over my head 53 of 70 days; I dug 40 holes to bury about 40 pounds of digested freeze dried dinners… I need to let all of this continue to sink in for a while. Also interestingly, I saw a bald eagle every day on the river, except the last day into New Orleans, though I did see one in the Marriott lobby on Saturday night! The wildlife experiences, even those I failed to capture, had a great impact on me.

Thanks again for coming along; until we meet again – Leechman out…

For the final playlist addition, I could go all sorts of directions given my wide range of emotions about this experience and memories, but thinking very simply – it’s over. It’s time to move on to the next thing. So, as George Harrison wrote, All Things Must Pass. Also, because you asked for it… 75 song Spotify playlist is here: Riverquest Rhythms Playlist