Chapter 8

Mississippi Too

Before all this, we had been enjoying a leisurely cruise down the Ohio. At Pittsburgh, we lost the Monongahela River and joined the Allegheny at the confluence to form the Ohio. Locking regulary on the Mon we were used to waiting on up bound barge traffic.

It is 981 miles from the Pitt to Cairo and the Mississippi. Had we averaged 175 miles a day, easily done, we could have arrived at Cairo in five and a half days. But we took a good two weeks, always careful to tie up away from the state of Ohio ... can’t sleep on a boat in Ohio ... except in certain designated areas ... like state parks.

In Cairo we turned upstream. We are not fleeing to the Gulf ... we are going to the Cabin ... I didn’t know that. I didn’t find out until I woke up for my trick at the wheel. We were just past Grays Point and needed fuel. Upstream uses more fuel than down. Down coasts, up pushes.

Mom had called ahead. She stayed at the helm while was on deck. The Smites Diesel Delivery truck was waiting at the pier upstream of FMT dock 2. Mr. Smites knew mom ... how about that.

Woodstock figured heavily in their conversations. Old hippies turned responsible.

Sold out.

It wasn’t until we were a considerable ways above Cape Girardeau ... almost to Kansas City ... before Jackie/Edith/Jackie.

Days spent relaxing, safe, sound and well fed aren’t much to write about ... so I didn’t. Mostly it was keeping away from Illinois and their chickenshit gun laws.

We were armed ... something else I didn’t know until after Keokuk Iowa, when Slut shot a buck watering at the river.

“You’re cleaning that,” I said.

“Yes. I was planning on it.” She said, “And cooking it, too.”

By now Jackie/Edith/Not-Jackie was mostly recovered. She watched Mom gut, skin, and butcher the buck. She even helped wrap the roasts. She wasn’t a bit squeamish.

The boat ride continued past Minneapolis to Coon Rapids ... as far as we could motor. Allen Transportation hauled us and we rode a crewbus behind the rear pilot car all the way to Green Bay, Wisconsin.

We stopped where they stopped, ate where they ate and had a pretty good time in the process. Daylight hours only and 50 miles an hour.

Back in the water in Green Bay.

Wisconsin ... cheese ... beer ... and beef.

We loaded the boat to near sinking. Back in the water, Sturgeon Bay, the ship canal, across the Lake to a little town, Pentwater ... and the “Cabin.” Three storys on the lake. Opened the ‘cabin’ aired the place out. We unpacked at the pier. Carted stuff and generally wore ourselves out.

“Time to eat.”

The Antler.

Frank and Ernie remembered mom. (When was she here?) She introduced us. We said our, ‘howdies,’ and met the regulars.

Wendy burgers, hand cut fries, salted diluted white vinegar and homemade rootbeer in frosted mugs.

Back in the ‘Cabin,’ mom showed me the dungeon.

Hmmm?