I will never again complain that I don't have any luck. Luck, that difficult to define, unpredictable and all-important element, the X-factor if you wish, that can change lives and the course of history, cannot be ignored when undertaking an adventure of this nature. There are so many variables and things that can wrong when you paddle a small plastic boat on one of the world's biggest rivers, that it would be arrogant to think, or pretend, that luck plays no part in the outcome. It does, believe me!My luck has been consistently good so far. Not to say that I had no challenges or mishaps - I had my fair share. The real test for luck lies in the outcome of bad situations. My flight instructor years ago used to say that any landing you walk away from is a good one. I walked away from a few incidents of uncertain outcome these past few weeks because I was lucky.
When I got caught in a thunderstorm a few days ago, I was conveniently close to a good spot to pull out the kayak, and minutes after I had found safety under the trees on the bank, lightning was striking all around me like special effects from a Lord of the Rings movie. The next time I was caught in a storm, I had three miles of lake to my left and a steep 15 foot stone revetment to my right - I couldn't get off the water. This time however, there was no lightning to speak of, and the wind, although 'breezy', never reached dangerous speeds. At Lock & Dam # 4, I got pushed too close to the dam by the wind and current, and had to paddle upstream into a 25 mph wind to the relative safety of a tiny island a mile away. I started running out of steam and strength after about 400 yards, at the exact spot where a 19 foot Sea Ray powerboat was waiting for clearance to approach the lock. Saved by Luck again! I was able to grab on to the Sea Ray, the skipper lassoed the bow of my kayak with a strong nylon rope, and I waited for my turn at the lock in relative safety, if not comfort. In all three cases things could very easily have ended badly for me. But they didn't.
I passed Muscatine, Iowa yesterday. The town is right on the river; its main street runs down the gentle slope of the bank all the way to the river, serving as a boat ramp for the last 30 yards. Old factories and warehouses, dating I suspect from the 19th century, line the downtown streets. A few have been restored and pressed into service as shops and restaurants, most notably, and visible from the river, is the Woodfire Grill. My craving for a good steak may have influenced what I saw and remembered at the time. Anyway, I didn't stop. It was early in the day, I had plenty of food and water, and I couldn't justify wasting time on an unscheduled stop.
A turkey vulture follow me for part of the day. I didn't like it. I'm not superstitious by nature, but the bird made me uncomfortable.
Wind Wind Wind 20 mph 25 mph always in my face the going is slow slow slow
I camped on a sandbar below Lock # 18. The place smelled like crap - the human kind. Rainstorm at night. It smelled like wet crap in the morning.
When I got caught in a thunderstorm a few days ago, I was conveniently close to a good spot to pull out the kayak, and minutes after I had found safety under the trees on the bank, lightning was striking all around me like special effects from a Lord of the Rings movie. The next time I was caught in a storm, I had three miles of lake to my left and a steep 15 foot stone revetment to my right - I couldn't get off the water. This time however, there was no lightning to speak of, and the wind, although 'breezy', never reached dangerous speeds. At Lock & Dam # 4, I got pushed too close to the dam by the wind and current, and had to paddle upstream into a 25 mph wind to the relative safety of a tiny island a mile away. I started running out of steam and strength after about 400 yards, at the exact spot where a 19 foot Sea Ray powerboat was waiting for clearance to approach the lock. Saved by Luck again! I was able to grab on to the Sea Ray, the skipper lassoed the bow of my kayak with a strong nylon rope, and I waited for my turn at the lock in relative safety, if not comfort. In all three cases things could very easily have ended badly for me. But they didn't.
I passed Muscatine, Iowa yesterday. The town is right on the river; its main street runs down the gentle slope of the bank all the way to the river, serving as a boat ramp for the last 30 yards. Old factories and warehouses, dating I suspect from the 19th century, line the downtown streets. A few have been restored and pressed into service as shops and restaurants, most notably, and visible from the river, is the Woodfire Grill. My craving for a good steak may have influenced what I saw and remembered at the time. Anyway, I didn't stop. It was early in the day, I had plenty of food and water, and I couldn't justify wasting time on an unscheduled stop.
A turkey vulture follow me for part of the day. I didn't like it. I'm not superstitious by nature, but the bird made me uncomfortable.
Wind Wind Wind 20 mph 25 mph always in my face the going is slow slow slow
I camped on a sandbar below Lock # 18. The place smelled like crap - the human kind. Rainstorm at night. It smelled like wet crap in the morning.
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