Long time, no talk. We didn't die, or quit, or sustain serious injury. We just got busy and lost track of time, so this post comes with a bit of a delay.
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While Saturday of Labor day weekend was kinda dead, we have heard horror stories about Labor Day boaters from almost every source we consulted before the trip, and our luck is good, but not “nobody else is celebrating the end of summer by soaking up the sun with a cold drink on the water” good - traffic was bound to pick up - so we weren't sure what kind of wait we'd have at the next lock. Fortunately, we got there early in the day, so there still weren't a lot of recreational boaters out, and almost no barges.
As we approached the lock, I could see the water on the other side. We've gone over random shelves in the river taller than this. The water flowed high above the edge of the dam. It looked for all the world like we could have just floated right over it with no issues, though I'm sure the lock operators would have had a heart attack. Inside the lock, we asked how tall the drop was. The answer: 6 inches - our shortest drop of the whole river.
It wasn't long, though, before the boaters were out in force. The problem with Labor Day boaters is twofold: 1) there's just a lot of them, and 2) they either don't know or don't care how to move around kayaks. We generally paddle near the edge of the channel, but one boat veered wide of me (moving outside the channel) as another boat passed in the middle of the channel. Neither boat slowed, and the wakes they generated competed with each other to see which could knock me over first. Normally, as a kayaker, you turn into the wake to keep you boat more stable, but that wasn't an option here. Fortunately the last month of paddling has drastically improved my ability to brace and keep my boat from tipping.
We listened to the Okee-Dokee Brother’s Mississippi River Adventure Album about their 2012 source to sea and added a few songs to our trip playlist. As we were listening, a boat we passed turned around to trail us. It was moving slowly, keeping pace, and we warily moved closer to hear what they were trying to say. They were just out for the day and wanted to know if we were doing the whole river. When we said we were, they gave us water, Coke, and money towards our cause. Guess Labor Day boaters have their benefits, too. They wished us luck and told us that the lock wasn't much further, which was good to hear since we planned to camp just past the lock and it was getting late in the day.
On the other side of Lock 18, we were really struggling to find a campsite - the water level was high enough that the sandbars shown in Google maps were about a foot below water, which was about a foot and a half lower than I was willing to pitch my tent. Just as we were getting desperate enough to camp in the yard of an unoccupied home, we spotted a cluster of boats around a light colored strip at the horizon - that had to be sand. Upon paddling over, we discovered to our relief that “Willow Bar” was not submerged, which provided us a good place to spend the night.
The next day was due to be a long day, so we woke up early, but we didn’t get on the water that early because I accidently rolled my glasses in the tent and had to take it back out to find them. Oops.
We had a lunch at a marina in Clinton and went into town for resupply, realizing that while Aldi is great at home, it doesn't carey two of our favorite luxuries: ice and disposable grocery bags. The next lock featured an hour wait and so many bugs - not mosquitos, just annoying papery insects looking for a place to rest … like the inside of my glasses… or up my shirt. Before we entered the lock, it was easy enough just to stay out of their way. Not so, when I was holding to the pin along the lock wall to keep us from bouncing around when the water level dropped. Before we entered, Sydney got out to use the bathroom, and got a tour of the whole facility, which was really neat, but unfortunately she wasn’t allowed to take pictures, so its secrets remain a mystery to the rest of us.
Even though it was getting dark, we weren't too worried because we had a campsite in mind - a river angel who owned a campground had reached out and offered us a spot at his site. When we arrived it was fully dark, but the dock was well lit. I did a double take when I saw the sign - it was shaped like Missouri. When did that happen? Some campers invited us to join them by their fire, and Sydney took them up on it for a bit, but I was tired enough to head straight to bed.
Early the following morning we saw our first vast expanse of sand in the middle of the river. We paddled and then waded over to explore, as the water near it got too shallow for us to float. There were dozens of what looked like clams as well as these long green tubes just off shore.
Even though we made good time that morning, when we got to lock 21, they told us it would be a 2 hour wait - our longest yet. We decided to pull over at a boat club and ask them to watch our boats (and chained them up - can’t be too careful) while we went into town. We went to a house tour of a unique building in the area called Villa Katherine.
Afterward, I went for a walk to explore the town while Sydney got her nails done, and we met back at boats just in time to have dinner before it was our turn to lock through. We camped at a public boat ramp just below the lock, since it was starting to get dark. As another boat was taking out at the boat ramp, they accidentally knocked a huge log into Sydney's boat where it was resting on shore, but fortunately it did no damage, it only freaked out the boaters, who kept apologizing and promising that the kayak was fine.
One day later, we got to check out Hannibal with the help of Andrew Wikstrom, a river angel who agreed to watch our boats while we explored town.
We went to the lighthouse, first, which, like any good lighthouse, was located at the top of a hill. We weren't allowed inside the lighthouse, but we got our workout just going up the 244 steps to its base.
Then we went to the Mark Twain Museum complex that contained the Samuel Clemens boyhood home, the Becky Thatcher house, and the Grant drugstore among others.
There were still a few things we wanted to see and do in Hannibal, but we decided to leave early to avoid having to wait to get our boats back, and it was a good thing we did - if we had waited we would have been caught in a thunderstorm. As it was we were still on the water when the thunder started and only just made it to shore before the rain. It was a bit earlier than we would normally have stopped but it was after 5, so by the time we waited to be well clear of the storm it would be too late to get back onto the river and hope to make it to another campsite.
The next day, shortly after we set out Sydney paddled over to explore a sandbar as before. Suddenly the water started roiling. A few foot and a half long fish jumped out of the water near her boat. That set them off for real - at least a dozen fish jumped out at her as she tried to paddle away. Scared but unhurt, she stayed away from sandbars the rest of the day. Can't say I blame her - it’s startling enough when one of those things jumps out of the water and hits your boat, let alone more than 10!
For lock 24, we used the pull chain because we really wanted to toot the horn our radio wasn't connecting. They let us through without comment, and we soon got to a very rocky campsite with a large hollow half a tree. After checking that I wasn't going to have any bunkmates, I pitched my tent on top. Honestly, it wasn't as uncomfortable as I was expecting, and I didn't roll myself off of it in the night, so really, what more could I ask for?
I'll send another update soon, covering the past 5 days, but by the end of day 35 we had gone 1077 miles! I still can't quite wrap my head around that. It seems not that long ago that we were pushing our way through reeds, unsure which way the river went, and now the river couldn't steer us wrong if it tried.