Another day of paddling into a strong south wind - 10 to 15 mph in the morning, 20 plus in the afternoon with gusts of 25 mph at times. The heat was a factor for the first time today. The temperature reached 88 degrees Fahrenheit in the afternoon and I was running low on water. I had no more than about a cup (200 ml) left at the end of the day. There was nowhere I could stop to fill up my water bottles. The humidity wasn't too bad though, so I coped reasonably well with the heat and lack of drinking water. Mind over matter works well up to a point, though. I will need to get drinking water early in the day tomorrow.There are hundreds, if not thousands, of snapping turtles about. They hang suspended in the water with only the tips of their heads sticking out above the surface. When you approach within a few feet of them they snap their heads back into the water. I guess that's why they're called snapping turtles.
There are duck hunting blinds everywhere on the river. I can picture the hunters heading out before dawn on a freezing winter morning, feeling their way through the fog in their flat bottom boats, protected against the wet cold by layers of camouflaged clothing, waterproof boots and waders. If you look closer you'll see the coffee flasks, the bags full of plastic decoys, the 12 and 10 gauge shotguns with 3 inch barrels and cases full of shotgun shells. On many boats you'll find an excited black Labrador retriever standing in the bow, with his nose in the wind and wagging his tail, eagerly anticipating the excitement of the hunt. With first light the calm and quiet of the early morning gives way to duck calls, shotguns firing in rapid succession, dog whistles and the sound of hundreds of wings in flight. I would like to come back one winter to experience a real Mississippi duck hunt.
I made fairly good progress today, in spite of the strong headwinds that stayed with me all day long. With my improving navigation skills, and a large measure of luck,
I managed to dodge the wind for part of the day. I am getting better at proactively picking routes that keep me on the side of the river that offers the most protection from the wind, and I am more comfortable taking chutes and sloughs away from the main navigation channel.
I decided to set up camp early today and take things easy for the rest of the day. The heat took its toll on my body and I felt tired and drained of energy. I found a great campsite and the ideal spot to spent a hot afternoon. It was in the middle of a sizable island covered with tall trees. A large, level area in the middle of the island has been cleared by previous campers. The tree canopy provided much-needed shade, the surrounding trees protected me from the wind and prying eyes, and there was enough firewood around to last me a month. There were signs that a group of people had camped there on the Memorial Day long weekend, but the site was clean and litter-free. It would have been a perfect place to camp, if it weren't for all the mosquitoes and biting flies. It wasn't only that they were present in vast numbers, which they were, but they came at me with an aggression and tenacity that I haven't experienced before, not even in Africa. I managed to keep some of the mosquitoes at bay by drenching myself in 40% DEET, but the biting flies paid no heed to it and continued feeding on me like I was a buffet laid on for their enjoyment. Later in the afternoon the wind died down and the heat became stifling among the trees. There was a bit of a breeze close to the river and I sat out there for a while, only to come under attack from even more biting flies! It seemed that I couldn't win this battle, so I retired to my stuffy, 90 degree Fahrenheit tent.
I saw the first bald eagle in several days today. There definitely are fewer birds and animals along the Iowa/Illinois stretch of the river. There are lots of herons - they are like barn pigeons in these parts. This may be a good thing: apparently herons have a taste for baby ducks and geese, and, like almost everywhere else in North America, there are more ducks and geese than the habitat can support. They not only impact the immediate environment with their voracious feeding and droppings; they wreak havoc on the fragile ecosystem of the arctic tundra when they return there to breed. It's not because they are particularly destructive by nature; there simply are too many ducks and geese alive at any given point in time. With fewer people hunting in these politically correct and 'sensitive' times, even the most efficient predator, man, is unable to control the exploding populations of these feathered pests. Many US states and provinces in Canada are increasing bag limits and extending hunting seasons for ducks and geese, but there are only so many birds a single hunter can kill in a year. We need more hunters, and more herons.
Barge traffic is increasing every day. I counted 12 today, excluding the ones that passed by my campsite after I had set up camp. With more barges around, my wait times at the locks are getting longer too. Tow boat pilots are a breed apart. They seem to resent anybody else travelling on the river; the smaller your boat, the bigger their resentment. Having the smallest boat on the river, bar none, I warrant their full, unmitigated and unconstrained resentment. I get the idea they feel I shouldn't be on their river in a small plastic boat, and some of them act like I don't exist. They don't wave back at me and they won't let me go ahead of them at the locks. Some of the tow boat pilots call from miles away and insist that they be locked up or down first, even though a 'double tow' (a tow boat pushing 15 barges) can take more than 2 hours to clear a lock. It takes 15 minutes at most to get me through a lock.
I was thinking today about all the powerboats I saw on the weekend, and all the RVs, trucks, jet skis, ATVs, lawnmower tractors and generators. I've come to a startling conclusion about USA. Even though most people here regard themselves as a religious, predominantly Christian nation, this is an illusion. Their real god is the internal combustion engine, and they are prepared to sacrifice the earth to feed their deity. And they will find new ways to continue fuelling their religion in future, but first they are going to use up all the oil on the planet, for that's what all their toys are designed for. In more than 400 miles on the river, I saw one canoe, 12 small sail boats in a race by Davenport and tow sail boats, that is it! All the other boats, and I saw hundreds, had internal combustion engines.
There definitely is more litter on the Iowa side of the river. And not just the accidental jetsam and flotsam that get washed overboard or end up in the river by accident, but real, intentional littering. Twelve Budweiser cans don't end up in the same spot by accident. I saw evidence of actual dumping: PC monitors, garden furniture, rusted steel drums and other household items. A PC monitor doesn't just float downstream and land on the riverbank - somebody had to dump it there.
There are mourning doves in the trees. I never see them, but I hear them calling all the time. They remind me of where I grew up in South Africa; there are lots of doves there too.
So far Iowa gets the lowest ranking in my book as custodians of the Mississippi.
My diet is interesting, albeit a little unconventional. I take three different kinds of protein supplements. I take Nitro Fire (from Polar Labs) in the morning. In addition to all the amino acids that boost physical and mental energy, it's also loaded with caffeine. At night I take either the whey-based protein blend from Wellwisdom, or Polar Labs Lean Mass Complex, sometimes both. Throughout the day I eat BumbleBars, Simbree energy bars and LaMontagne chocolate bars whenever I feel peckish or sluggish. At night, after I've had my protein shake, I usually eat tuna or salmon from a foil pouch; some nights I'll have beef jerky and my desert consists of canned fruit or a chocolate bar, sometimes both. I also packed some dehydrated stew mixes for the trip, but it's just too much of a hassle to unpack the stove and go through the entire ritual of cooking and washing dishes. It's good to have the dried food for an emergency though, and it doesn't weigh much. I also take goZym electrolyte supplement - it also contains vitamins and minerals. My body seems to be getting everything it needs. I'm healthy and I have energy to spare, and my digestive system is happy. I have lost a lot of weight, but who wouldn't after paddling ten hours a day for more than two weeks? I seem to gaining lean muscle, which is another good sign. I'm not suffering from any of the diseases commonly caused by nutritional deficiencies, and I don't have any early leprosy symptoms, which is good. I'm not consuming enough calories; I need to up my food intake. I'm burning approximately 6,000 calories per day, and my intake is less than 3,000.
I noticed a rash on both my forearms yesterday - probably a heat rash. I took some Claritin last night and this morning I applied zinc oxide sunblock to my arms to prevent further problems. The rash is going away; it looks my like diagnosis was correct.
I've been caught in the rain a few times in my first few weeks on the river. It's actually not too bad if it rains when I'm on the water, as long as there's no lightning or strong wind. My paddle jacket keeps my upper body dry, my hat keeps most of the rain out of my face, and my lower body and gear stay perfectly dry inside the kayak. So I usually keep paddling when it rains, except when there is lightning in the area, in which case I get off the water immediately. When I can't get off the water because the bank is too steep, or when I'm alongside a stone revetment, I try to get as close to the bank as possible, in the hope that the trees on the bank will provide me some protection. Hail is another danger when you're as exposed to the elements as I am. Golfball-size hail is not uncommon in these parts, and it wouldn't take more than one or two hitting my head to put a premature end to my time on this planet. The only thing I can do if I get caught in a hailstorm is to hold my life jacket over my head and pray my kayak doesn't drift into the main navigation channel.
There are duck hunting blinds everywhere on the river. I can picture the hunters heading out before dawn on a freezing winter morning, feeling their way through the fog in their flat bottom boats, protected against the wet cold by layers of camouflaged clothing, waterproof boots and waders. If you look closer you'll see the coffee flasks, the bags full of plastic decoys, the 12 and 10 gauge shotguns with 3 inch barrels and cases full of shotgun shells. On many boats you'll find an excited black Labrador retriever standing in the bow, with his nose in the wind and wagging his tail, eagerly anticipating the excitement of the hunt. With first light the calm and quiet of the early morning gives way to duck calls, shotguns firing in rapid succession, dog whistles and the sound of hundreds of wings in flight. I would like to come back one winter to experience a real Mississippi duck hunt.
I made fairly good progress today, in spite of the strong headwinds that stayed with me all day long. With my improving navigation skills, and a large measure of luck,
I managed to dodge the wind for part of the day. I am getting better at proactively picking routes that keep me on the side of the river that offers the most protection from the wind, and I am more comfortable taking chutes and sloughs away from the main navigation channel.
I decided to set up camp early today and take things easy for the rest of the day. The heat took its toll on my body and I felt tired and drained of energy. I found a great campsite and the ideal spot to spent a hot afternoon. It was in the middle of a sizable island covered with tall trees. A large, level area in the middle of the island has been cleared by previous campers. The tree canopy provided much-needed shade, the surrounding trees protected me from the wind and prying eyes, and there was enough firewood around to last me a month. There were signs that a group of people had camped there on the Memorial Day long weekend, but the site was clean and litter-free. It would have been a perfect place to camp, if it weren't for all the mosquitoes and biting flies. It wasn't only that they were present in vast numbers, which they were, but they came at me with an aggression and tenacity that I haven't experienced before, not even in Africa. I managed to keep some of the mosquitoes at bay by drenching myself in 40% DEET, but the biting flies paid no heed to it and continued feeding on me like I was a buffet laid on for their enjoyment. Later in the afternoon the wind died down and the heat became stifling among the trees. There was a bit of a breeze close to the river and I sat out there for a while, only to come under attack from even more biting flies! It seemed that I couldn't win this battle, so I retired to my stuffy, 90 degree Fahrenheit tent.
I saw the first bald eagle in several days today. There definitely are fewer birds and animals along the Iowa/Illinois stretch of the river. There are lots of herons - they are like barn pigeons in these parts. This may be a good thing: apparently herons have a taste for baby ducks and geese, and, like almost everywhere else in North America, there are more ducks and geese than the habitat can support. They not only impact the immediate environment with their voracious feeding and droppings; they wreak havoc on the fragile ecosystem of the arctic tundra when they return there to breed. It's not because they are particularly destructive by nature; there simply are too many ducks and geese alive at any given point in time. With fewer people hunting in these politically correct and 'sensitive' times, even the most efficient predator, man, is unable to control the exploding populations of these feathered pests. Many US states and provinces in Canada are increasing bag limits and extending hunting seasons for ducks and geese, but there are only so many birds a single hunter can kill in a year. We need more hunters, and more herons.
Barge traffic is increasing every day. I counted 12 today, excluding the ones that passed by my campsite after I had set up camp. With more barges around, my wait times at the locks are getting longer too. Tow boat pilots are a breed apart. They seem to resent anybody else travelling on the river; the smaller your boat, the bigger their resentment. Having the smallest boat on the river, bar none, I warrant their full, unmitigated and unconstrained resentment. I get the idea they feel I shouldn't be on their river in a small plastic boat, and some of them act like I don't exist. They don't wave back at me and they won't let me go ahead of them at the locks. Some of the tow boat pilots call from miles away and insist that they be locked up or down first, even though a 'double tow' (a tow boat pushing 15 barges) can take more than 2 hours to clear a lock. It takes 15 minutes at most to get me through a lock.
I was thinking today about all the powerboats I saw on the weekend, and all the RVs, trucks, jet skis, ATVs, lawnmower tractors and generators. I've come to a startling conclusion about USA. Even though most people here regard themselves as a religious, predominantly Christian nation, this is an illusion. Their real god is the internal combustion engine, and they are prepared to sacrifice the earth to feed their deity. And they will find new ways to continue fuelling their religion in future, but first they are going to use up all the oil on the planet, for that's what all their toys are designed for. In more than 400 miles on the river, I saw one canoe, 12 small sail boats in a race by Davenport and tow sail boats, that is it! All the other boats, and I saw hundreds, had internal combustion engines.
There definitely is more litter on the Iowa side of the river. And not just the accidental jetsam and flotsam that get washed overboard or end up in the river by accident, but real, intentional littering. Twelve Budweiser cans don't end up in the same spot by accident. I saw evidence of actual dumping: PC monitors, garden furniture, rusted steel drums and other household items. A PC monitor doesn't just float downstream and land on the riverbank - somebody had to dump it there.
There are mourning doves in the trees. I never see them, but I hear them calling all the time. They remind me of where I grew up in South Africa; there are lots of doves there too.
So far Iowa gets the lowest ranking in my book as custodians of the Mississippi.
My diet is interesting, albeit a little unconventional. I take three different kinds of protein supplements. I take Nitro Fire (from Polar Labs) in the morning. In addition to all the amino acids that boost physical and mental energy, it's also loaded with caffeine. At night I take either the whey-based protein blend from Wellwisdom, or Polar Labs Lean Mass Complex, sometimes both. Throughout the day I eat BumbleBars, Simbree energy bars and LaMontagne chocolate bars whenever I feel peckish or sluggish. At night, after I've had my protein shake, I usually eat tuna or salmon from a foil pouch; some nights I'll have beef jerky and my desert consists of canned fruit or a chocolate bar, sometimes both. I also packed some dehydrated stew mixes for the trip, but it's just too much of a hassle to unpack the stove and go through the entire ritual of cooking and washing dishes. It's good to have the dried food for an emergency though, and it doesn't weigh much. I also take goZym electrolyte supplement - it also contains vitamins and minerals. My body seems to be getting everything it needs. I'm healthy and I have energy to spare, and my digestive system is happy. I have lost a lot of weight, but who wouldn't after paddling ten hours a day for more than two weeks? I seem to gaining lean muscle, which is another good sign. I'm not suffering from any of the diseases commonly caused by nutritional deficiencies, and I don't have any early leprosy symptoms, which is good. I'm not consuming enough calories; I need to up my food intake. I'm burning approximately 6,000 calories per day, and my intake is less than 3,000.
I noticed a rash on both my forearms yesterday - probably a heat rash. I took some Claritin last night and this morning I applied zinc oxide sunblock to my arms to prevent further problems. The rash is going away; it looks my like diagnosis was correct.
I've been caught in the rain a few times in my first few weeks on the river. It's actually not too bad if it rains when I'm on the water, as long as there's no lightning or strong wind. My paddle jacket keeps my upper body dry, my hat keeps most of the rain out of my face, and my lower body and gear stay perfectly dry inside the kayak. So I usually keep paddling when it rains, except when there is lightning in the area, in which case I get off the water immediately. When I can't get off the water because the bank is too steep, or when I'm alongside a stone revetment, I try to get as close to the bank as possible, in the hope that the trees on the bank will provide me some protection. Hail is another danger when you're as exposed to the elements as I am. Golfball-size hail is not uncommon in these parts, and it wouldn't take more than one or two hitting my head to put a premature end to my time on this planet. The only thing I can do if I get caught in a hailstorm is to hold my life jacket over my head and pray my kayak doesn't drift into the main navigation channel.
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