Day Markers and Bird Houses

Every lock has it’s own unique bird feeder. Some are elegant models of old steamers. Others are mini mansion. I saw one that looked like what the Jetsons would have for their pet cliff swallows.

Day markers seem to be a favorite hangout for the bigger birds.

Driving Through the Driving Rain

John operates the outboard with a throttle extender that we fashioned out of pvc pipe. 

The visibility is drastically compromised but we are dry. 

John drives while I look out the windows to navigate.

The Big Getter Voyage Map

Hyfte, you rock. Thanks so much.

Day 10, 28 Miles - Winona to La Crosse

If yesterday’s weather was amazing I must be in heaven, because today there was hardly a cloud in the sky and a tail wind. At one point, according to our GPS, we were floating a speedy 3.5 mph. After 20 minutes of rowing I shipped the oars because I couldn’t row fast enough to keep up with our speed. I was slowing us down with every stroke. We fired up the engine as we passed through La Crosse. In the middle of town, on the Minnesota side, we eyed a marina with a gas pump and restaurant. I manned the rear sweep and began our approach.  We only planned on a few gallons of gas and a bag of ice but the atmosphere was so inviting we stayed for a drink. One of the other patrons told us that all the diners inside were gawking as we came into view and someone had exclaimed "why that's Huck himself. Everyone, according to the patron had cheered when I started to turn the boat towards the Marina. The Three of us are appreciating a restaurant meal at Pettibone Point, listening to a local band play mostly seventies tunes and enjoying the view of La Crosse on the other side of the river. Our chariot of adventure is anchored not far away and we are trusting the dinghy Drum-Man to get us home. I wish you all were here.

Day 9, 11 Miles - 2 Miles Below Lock 5 to Winona

John and I on Big Lake near Minneiska, MN

The Dredge Thompson

Amazing, it didn’t rain today. John and I couldn’t have had a better day. We dried everything out and aired out our damp bedding. Big Getter looked like a floating garage sale, although no one came by. We cruised by the little town of Fountain City, which had a disappointing fountain but boasted the highest point on the Mississippi River and also was home to the dredge Thompson which is supposedly the main dredge for the entire river. By early afternoon we were tied to a tree next to the 30-dollar a night yacht club in Winona, which is a very young, hip town. The aroma of patchouli was on every corner and I felt high just being there. Adam joined us in the mid afternoon and we hit the mostly dead streets after dinner for a little taste of the local watering holes.

Can I get some sun

I just can’t believe the weather here in Minnesota, it is relentlessly shitty. I’ve experienced warmer days in Alaska and drier days in the Amazon, and the mosquitoes aren’t as bad in either of those places. I’ve now had a week of rain, wind, hail and tornado warnings. The 5-day extended forecast goes something like this: scattered thunderstorms and head winds, suckerrrr. The cabin has held the water out well and although we feel damp our house is dry. Just a few moments ago, we are anchored upstream of Winona with the hatches battened, John stepped out into the downpour and said “oh it’s getting’ pretty out here” in all earnestly. I laughed to myself and thought, yeah compared to the 62 mile an hour storm that rocked us yesterday. His good nature and oblivious attitude toward the elements are well received.

Day 8, 23 miles - Wabasha to 2 miles below lock 5

Peter Brown and his associates were watching us all evening but we had no idea. We woke up feeling a little damp spirited and rowed across the river (in the rain naturally) to find some ice and a bathroom. It was too early for the Mississippi Parkside Marina’s general store so we strolled through Wabasha’s streets to keep warm while searching for a cold bag of ice to carry. I had one of those moments when you just feel stupid. We were back on the river by nine o’clock and enjoying a reprieve from the heavy skies, when an onlooker shouted to us from the bank. He admired our vessel verbally and we shouted back and forth between the rumbles of bridge traffic overhead. John and I enjoy all the rubberneckers and attention. Above the man there were three more people peering at us through binoculars from a fifth floor balcony. I introduced myself and yelled the website to the enthusiastic fellow. He said he would check it out and that his name was Peter Brown. John and I continued to enjoy the absence of rain and rowed away. As we were locking thru lock 4 some two hours downstream, there appeared Peter and his binocular bearing friends. Again we were shouting to one another but this time it was to overcome the sound of our engine. We chose a boat ramp at the power plant around the bend to meet. Peter his wife Ellen and their two friends were very inquisitive and complimentary of Big Getter. We learned of how they watched us the night before and longed to kayak out to visit. Peter shared some local river history with us about how they used to use sweeps on huge log rafts. It was a pleasure to make their acquaintance and a compliment that they tracked us down. Hopefully we will be able to have them aboard for dinner sometime soon.

From: "Peter Brown"
To: justusmclarty@yahoo.com

Justus, Thanks for pulling over in Alma so we could meet you and check out
Big Getter. We were very inspired by your journey and your ingenuity. Here
is a photo of a lumber raft at Read's Landing, MN (about 2 miles upstream
of where you anchored last night near Wabasha). I thought you would enjoy
seeing all the sweeps on the front end. Best wishes from the four of us:
Susan and Bill Sands, Ellen & Peter Brown
Peter Brown
Wabasha, MN

Day 7, 30 Miles - Red Wing to Wabasha

It couldn't have been much after 5 am when the sun pierced through the canvas. The inside of the cabin really glows and after a week of cloudy weather it was a great way to wake up. Without moving much more than my eye lids I peered through the window and saw no clouds and motionless trees. "John I bet the lake is glass, let's go" I said in my best morning voice. Everyone was out boating. At-least a hundred little fishing boats were launching as part of a weekend long fishing tournament. This is what I expected the river to be like everyday.

About a mile above Lake Pepin a fat cat motor yacht hailed us over. We rowed over to the shore where they were tied up and the skipper yelled "60 mile an hour winds a comin, hunker down." It was simple and to the point. We cranked up the engine and headed for a cove where we joined half a dozen other boats all hunkering down. The storm came out of nowhere and blackened the sky. The rain dumped and we listened intently to the weather station. Four confirmed tornados had touched down just west of us. Amazingly enough the wind never got too intense where we were, but we sure were waiting for the worst. The thunder heads billowed above us and rolled at a furious speed. At the bottom of the cloud cover a twisting white rope-cloud whipped the heavens. It looked to me like a horizontal tornado, and I was glad it was a thousand feet overhead. The deluge only lasted about 40 minutes and then the sun came out as if the maelstrom were only a practical joke. Along with the sun the birds returned and so did all of us water enthusiasts. The lake crossing went smooth as silk and we spent several hours not making any progress but just bobbing and enjoying our good fortune.

Johnny Lawless on Lake Pepin

A Fine End to My Time in Red Wing

John says the Big Getter is a people magnet. It sure enough it magnetized us an invitation to dinner. A Red Wing local named Joe, who was down at the boat ramp with his family, took interest in our homemade craft. We invited him and his son Quinn aboard and swapped stories for a bit. He offered us a home cooked meal and we sprang into action. A little local flavor sounded great. John retrieved our marine battery from the other end of the marina where it was charging and I scrambled to brush on the last coat of green paint that I was using for my boat registration numbers. In no time we were weaving through a heavily forested neighborhood that I could have easily gotten lost in. Their house had a beautiful back porch where we dined on brats, fruit and a wicked 7-layer salad. Kathy, Joe’s wife, really did it up. She conscientiously thought of all the things we didn’t have and did a fine job at helping us avoid scurvy. Thanks for the evening.