Arrival

Leaving Baton Rouge the realization that my trip was nearly over hit me.  I was only 100 miles away, so close the tides had started to affect water levels.  The shipping traffic had increased dramatically.  There were refineries everywhere lining the rivers edge filling the air with petroleum odors.  Large ocean going vessels started to travel up the river.  The long beautiful sandbars that had once been around every corner started to give way to eroded shoreline and deep water stretches.  The river was changing; it was no longer the same river I had come to know.  The gulf was rapidly approaching with every stroke of my oars.

The next few days brought slow but noticeable change.  More barges and ships appeared with every mile I moved south.  The barges started to take up more and more of the river.  Consisting of not only north and south bound traffic but small fleeting tugs that started to clog the river.  Fleeting tugs are small tug boats that move barges fairly locally.  They generally don't have the same experience or respect for travelers along the river.  The relative short and repetitive trips they take make them come to believe that they own that stretch of river.  Making them ever more pushy and annoying.  By the time my last couple miles started disappearing in my wake, a happiness started to come over me that I would no longer have to deal with these short haul boats.  Even more than that though, the idea of being on land not having to get back in the boat was so appealing it was almost intoxicating.  For the last five miles, I was all smiles.  It was a 105 degrees, no wind, I had gone through two gallons of water, and it was only 4pm but I was grinning from ear to ear.

Approaching the town where I was suppose to take out, I started to look for the mile marker to find the exact location of my boat ramp.  Though when I got closer, it became abundantly clear the boat ramp that was on my map was no longer there.  Half of the boat ramp was gone, washed away in some recent flooding event.  Another failure of my maps, an all too common occurrence during my trip was not going to stop me today.  I had chosen this boat ramp as it was one of the last public access boat ramps.  If I didn't get out now, I would have to travel south of the city, very south, and that is not something that I wanted to do.  I had arranged with my family and friends that I would get picked up here today and at this location.  A date that would be hard to change at this point even if I wanted too.  So there was only one choice.  Empty the boat, take off the pontoons and carry it up to the half of the boat ramp that was still there.  The only problem being that completely empty it weighted more than I could possible carry or drag up a hill by myself.

My father and mother had been traveling and visiting places on the way down to pick me up.  Columbus, Nashville and Vicksburg were a few of the places that they had visited on their own little journey.  When they arrived late Thursday afternoon at the broken down boat ramp with a trailer, I knew my journey was over.  Friends of theirs from New Orleans had come out with a trailer and a willingness to help.  Marc, Kathy and their son, Chris, were great, and it helped that they didn't mind getting a little muddy.  Just as we started to unload the gear, storm clouds rolled in from the south drenching the already muddy ground.  It rained for the next half an hour as I carried my things to the truck.  The others stayed in the trucks to avoid the main brunt of the rain; there was no use in everyone being wet.  I think it was a fitting and a peaceful end to my journey.  Unloading the boat by myself, one last time in the wind and rain.  Thunder and Lighting crashing down in the distance, heralding my arrival.  I was done. 

I want to thank all of you who have helped me along the way, with food, shelter, and other miscellaneous boat related things, shared your stories with me, and most of all your encouraging words and unwavering support! I couldn't have finished this journey without you and I truly am indebted to the sheer kindness of all of you.  

Together, we have raised $5240 and rowed 1880 miles for the Michael J. Fox Foundation.  This money will go to help find a cure for Parkinson's and help all the patients struggling with this disease.  So Thank You.

I have enjoyed this journey, and really have gained a renewed faith in the American spirit.  I truly believe that  if the public so desired  we could and would find the cure to Parkinson's Disease.

Thank you for following the blog and this journey. Good luck on making your dreams a reality and thank you for being part of mine! 

Take Care and Much Love, Michael.