The Big Getter Voyage Map
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In the summer of 2008 I will be taking a pontoon houseboat down the Mississippi River from Minneapolis St. Paul to the Gulf of Mexico. It will be my home and vessel as I descend the mighty Mississip. This will be a healthy and relaxing trip, an adventure worth experiencing, and a good-livin-hell-of-a-time. For six years this trip has been living as a fantastical goal within me. I know the beginning is around the bend, and that makes me smile like I just lost my training wheels.
The boat is not traditional in many ways except for that it floats. It is a unique HPB (human powered boat) that in basic appearance looks like a hybrid between a cataraft on steroids and a traditional houseboat. There are four different systems of propulsion that can be operated individually or in conjunction with one another. Its primary form of power comes from two pedal-driven-propeller stations located at the stern on both sides of the boat. They resemble recumbent bicycles with a propeller instead of wheels. In addition, there is a set of oars for rowing on the front deck. The boat also has, for those occasions when the current is strong, sweeps that can be operated from the top of the cabin. Sweeps are long oars that resemble gigantic hockey sticks. They protrude fore and aft of the boat and are used for steering and lateral movement but not necessarily to gain downstream momentum. Lastly there is an outboard motor that can be used in emergencies, for safety and to make up lost time.
The 3-foot diameter inflatable pontoons are 22 feet long and are attached to a frame constructed from 2” Aluminum pipe. The frame also doubles as the skeletal structure, which supports a hanging floor, two side decks, a front deck and a cabin. Plywood that is cut to the right dimensions and fastened to the aluminum pipe forms the floor and decks. As for the cabin, it is waterproof nylon, canvas and mesh all sewn together and fitted around the aluminum pipe. Inside the cabin there are four berths, a living area, a kitchen and storage. Oh yeah there is a bathroom too, outfitted with all the amenities a camping king would expect.
From June through August I’ll weave approximately 1800 miles through 10 states to the ever-nearing Gulf Coast. Geographically speaking the Mississippi River is separated into two sections, the upper and lower, with the dividing point lying at the confluence with the Ohio River. Both section are as unique as they are long and will offer a river front glimpse at Middle America. One major difference of the Upper Mississippi is that it is a series of pools created by channel dams, while the lower half is free flowing. Due to this, the average current will be much faster downstream of the Ohio River. Along the way I will ‘lock through’ 27 locks, visit the homes of Mark Twain and Elvis, dodge barge traffic, and do some fishing and sunbathing. I intend to explore as much as possible, learn what I can and enjoy life to brim.
If you’d like to come, believe me, I want you to. In fact, I want as much company as possible. The cabin will sleep four, so I hope to have three others with me at all times. The invitation is open to everyone and anyone, family, friends, friends of friends, and especially to characters I meet along the way. There is an itinerary in the blog archive that will help you choose when, where and for how long you would like to join the adventure. Don't worry; I expect the trip will take me 100 days, so you'll have all summer to fit in a Mississippi get-a-way.
2 comments:
Well, to save my reputation I feel I must set the record straight about "laying down the law with my hand" when you were six months old!
Oh you cried day and night the first six months all right, but that was tolerable since you were a tiny baby after all. It was the night long crying into the 22nd month that finally pushed your dad and me to tell you that there would be no more Mr or Mrs Nice Guy in the middle of the night. You were so old we put in writing. Dad did the swatting, not Mom, and it only took one night. It did make us wonder what took us so long!
I can remember the swats I had. Mom got me once, Dad the most. In todays world, it is called abuse, but as a parent now, I know the meaning of this will hurt me more than you......
Thank God for parents that love enough to swat.
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