Sitting here at the Riverview RV Resort, which is the last vestige of civilization before entering the vast Atchafalaya National Wildlife Refuge. Nothing but swamps from here to the Gulf. No sign of gators yet, we’ll see if that changes.
The Atch has been very beautiful so far, but it is pretty slow compared to the Mississippi. If there is any current at all, it is maybe half or 1mph. If I ain’t paddling, I ain’t moving. I covered around 26 miles so far this morning from my slopeside campsite. It started out clear this morning, but then the fog rolled in, and I was paddling with around 1/10 of a mile visibility. Barges aren’t really prevalent on this river, so I felt safe enough. And I stayed within sight of the bank in order to make sure I’m still going downstream. Ask me how I know to make sure you are paddling downstream.
Since I last posted, it’s been a fantastic week of lower Mississippi paddling, Tons of sandbars, even more barges, a fantastic afternoon/evening in Vicksburg complete with food, beer and a hotel room – shower most importantly. A day and a half later, I made it to Natchez, where I spent some quality time at a few establishments “Under the Hill”, the area that in its past was notorious for debauchery, criminality, in other words, where all the fun was happening in riverboat times past. I sat down next to a nice guy named Gene at the Old Magnolia grill, who was heavily invested in the Ole Miss/Oklahoma football game. I cheered along with him to an Ole Miss win, then after, he offered to drive me up the hill to Natchez Brewery where I scored a couple crowlers of their finest swill. Tasted amazing on the sandbar that night. Speaking of that night, I saw storms in the forecast, but didn’t assume anything severe, so I picked a campsite out in the middle of a sandbar instead of somewhere more sheltered. Well buddy. Around 11:30pm, it started storming. Rain, thunder, lightning – luckily the wind wasn’t insane or my tent probably wouldn’t have held. My tent being of quality material, but well-travelled, the roof leaks, so MacGyver over here put up the umbrella inside the tent to deflect water off to the side versus on me. It worked pretty well, I slept for a few hours in the fetal position under the umbrella, and only ended up with an inch of water at the low side of the tent in the morning.
I entered the Atchafalaya River system yesterday morning when I made a right off the Mississippi and went through the Old River Lock. This system of locks and diversion structures actually channels 1/3 of the Mississippi River flow into the Atch. Hard to tell, as there’s been not a bit of current as of yet. I’ve read a lot about the Old River Lock system, and how massive and critical a piece of infrastructure this is. Without this lock system, the Mississippi River would assume the Atch basin as its natural course, and the Mississippi through New Orleans as we know it today would be reduced to a trickle. The resulting effect on shipping, industry and America’s economy, to say nothing of New Orleans’ fate, would be disastrous. So the Army Corp of Engineers maintains the lock system to ensure the Mississippi stays where it is. In flood years of the recent past, the Old River Lock system has been in serious jeopardy of failing. And there’s no putting the genie back in the bottle. Once the river goes where it wants, there’s no going back to what was. So we hope against hope that the Old River Lock keeps doing what it’s doing, the government budgets a not enough amount to maintain the system, though the river is undefeated so far since the beginning of time.
In about 50 miles, I will pull off the Atchafalaya and enter 6 Mile Lake, then a man-made diversion channel. Then I’ll get into Hog Bayou, where a meandering channel will take me the last few miles to the Gulf and to Burns Point, where I’ll end my journey.
As I mentioned previously, I do have a bit of regret that I am on a timetable for this trip. A trip like this should be done open-ended, leaving time to explore, take a relaxing day off on a huge sandbar, stop into towns and learn as much about their rich histories as possible. This has been a paddle-heavy trip for me, probably averaging about 45 miles a day. Just the nature of how the trip came about and other assorted logistics. Alas, any river travel is second to nothing in terms of adventures in my book, but I don’t consider myself a paddle racer first and foremost. I live for long meandering expeditions and deep exploration and spending time with the people and at places along the river.
Pretty soon, I’ll be at home, it will be freezing outside, I’ll be thrust back into the realities of a civilized existence, so I am going to soak up every second and every paddle stroke of these last few days. I thank you all sincerely for reading. I will likely share some more reflections after the trip. For now, I’m going to drink a few more cold beers, wait for it to cool off, and maybe get back on the river for a few more miles before the Lousiana storms roll in tonight.
See you all down the river.
mf
Paddle St. Louis 