...ANNNNND We're Back

Happy belated Memorial Day America! We are officially on the Mississippi River! Apologies for not blogging sooner, but our wireless connection has been pretty bad all the way up here in Minnesota. As it stands, I am blogging from a DSL connection in the home of my new friend Keith, who is a resident of Palisades, MN. He has a black lab named Buck, and four kids. Last year, one of them shot a deer up north, showing up his old man! Apparently, Keith does about 3,000 internet posts a year on five different sites, including Catch-n.com. He's going to link us to his community, and the fisherman hits are going to fly! Thanks so much, Keith!

This is our fourth day on the river. We put in at Bemidji, MN on the 28th, after two long days of driving and outfitting, courtesy of Kevin's gracious mother, Mary. Bemidji is the first city on the Mississippi, and where we dropped off there is a huge plastic statue of Paul Bunyan and his Baby Blue Ox. According to the literature, Bunyan created Minnesota's 10,000 lakes with his footsteps. Danny thinks he also cut out the Grand Canyon, but we haven't yet had that confirmed. Does anyone know whether or not this is true? Either way, it's great to be a part of American history.

The first days on the river have been beautiful. We've seen several bald eagles, and great blue herons. At one bend in the river, a huge school of fish darted by to our right. The Mississippi is dirty by reputation, and it certainly will become much more so as we move further south, but at its headwaters, it is beautiful. There are birch and oak trees, and stands of wild rice. A thousand miles from now there will be factories pumping into a river a mile wide. Here, where the river is so shallow that you can wade across it without sinking below your knees, the water is clear. It looks like the land of plenty, and gives no hint as to what is to come.

At Cass Lake, the next town down, we decided we'd try to hitch a ride down Highway 2 in order to avoid Lake Winnibigoshish, a lake some fifteen miles across and wide. If the wind picked up with us halfway across, with the gear we have loading down the canoe, we'd be pretty much done for. So we stashed the canoe and our packs and walked into town. We pitched the idea to everyone we saw, but no one seemed particularly interested. The gas station attendant down the road didn't have any leads, and even though Kevin stuck out his thumb, we couldn't get anyone to stop. In one barbershop, the barber played with some gadget and avoided making eye contact. He laughed when I offered him some money. "I don't even drive," he said. Finally, in Dairy Queen, while Danny and I ate cheeseburgers and ice cream, Kevin got a tow guy on the phone who said he'd do it after work for $125. We tried to get him down to $100, but he wouldn't budge. We told him to pick us up at 5:00.

Dan the Tow Guy showed up with his wife Donna and a trailer that we hitched the canoe onto. He wore a cut-off black t-shirt, had a huge beard, and periodically spit from his chewing tobacco into a water bottle on the dashboard. He had several tattoos, including a tasmanian devil right out of the tattoo parlor book, and a howling wolf that we later learned his daughter had drawn. He asked how far we were going and we told him New Orleans. He laughed. "That's crazy," he said, "I'd be a dead duck just trying to go up Cass Lake."

He drove us all the way down to Jacobson, and we talked about all sorts of things. He told us about going to the motorcycle convention in Sturgess, South Dakota, and watching the Hell's Angels get into a shootout with the National Guard. He told us about his daughter, who was supposed to go to school for graphic design but won't get out of the house. He told us about the time Donna drove him and his friends to a dart tournament a couple towns over and then had a heart attack in the bar. They remembered it like they were remembering an obscure family Thanksgiving from several years back. "Oh yah," he said to her, "That was the time you had a heart attack." She laughed and nodded. "Yep," she said.

The next day, we paddled nearly 30 miles, aided by the river. We hardly saw anyone, and Kevin remarked that this is probably the last day of the entire trip where we won't pass through a town. Late in the day, Highway 10, the "Great River Road," came close to the river and I hopped out to take a look. Two farmers on 4-Wheelers came up to see if I needed help. One had a heavy, almost unintelligeble slur and told me, "Those mosquitos done eaten up your legs!" I asked if they knew anything about Palisades. "It's small," the other one said. "About 150 people." I asked if there was a liquor store. "Oh yah," they said. "There's two."

Now we're in Keith's house in Palisades and planning on eating at the local bar this evening, where they have a special on two dollar burgers. Keith watches TV and says they're not half bad either. Until then, we're hanging out at the park by the river, drinking beer and reading. Hopefully, we will pass back into service soon, and from there on out, our posts should be pretty regular. Thanks to everyone for all the comments so far - it's great to hear from you all! Hannah Jane, we'd love some contacts if you have them. Every little bit is appreciated. You can email Al about passing them along. Apologies about not having pictures this time, but hopefully you'll understand our situation. Soon, we'll have all sorts of pretty things for you to gawk at. Until then, stick with us! We promise to make it worth your while. Moms and Dads and family and friends, we love you and miss you. We hope you're all well, and we'll talk to you all soon.

Still living,
Gabe