After a resupply in Keokuk, I paddled on into a headwind and kept at it. It was hot and sticky today with slightly overcast skies that turned to scorching sun rather quickly. I noticed the Fox Island Chute on the map and knew it would offer shelter from the 15-20mph south wind. That was good because the waves had been building and growing more precarious. I passed Warsaw, IL and crossed the channel just in time. A tow headed upstream was coming right my way but I knew it would remain in the channel. I passed over to the shore and enjoyed watching the long vessel slug on by.
At the chute, I came across a rock dam built of concrete chunks from the 1993 flood ravaged town of Alexandria, Missouri. After walking up to scope it out, I noticed a crowd partying at a cabin on the island. The waved me over and I paddled up to "The Bunkhouse". Jerry Calwell, the 72 year old owner, offered me an ice cold Keystone Light and ushered me to a chair in the shade. His family lives in the town of Alexandria, a place built on stilts with roughly 100 residents on the low west bank of the river. Jerry has taken his 20ft Flatboat to New Orleans, up to St. Paul and up the Missouri. He's a person of the river with a huge reputation and fabulous close family.
At the chute, I came across a rock dam built of concrete chunks from the 1993 flood ravaged town of Alexandria, Missouri. After walking up to scope it out, I noticed a crowd partying at a cabin on the island. The waved me over and I paddled up to "The Bunkhouse". Jerry Calwell, the 72 year old owner, offered me an ice cold Keystone Light and ushered me to a chair in the shade. His family lives in the town of Alexandria, a place built on stilts with roughly 100 residents on the low west bank of the river. Jerry has taken his 20ft Flatboat to New Orleans, up to St. Paul and up the Missouri. He's a person of the river with a huge reputation and fabulous close family.
Boone, a shirtless and tanned character said "You stick around and there's a t-bone with your name on it." Sold. I had planned to make more miles today but this was too enjoyable to pass up. Good food, cold beer, lots of laughs. Boone told me all about growing up on the river, his first flat bottom boat at 13 and the old Purple Cow bar, owned by Jerry's Mom and later, Boone. Jerry brought me inside for a tour and once I saw the camouflage pattern inside, I immediately recognized it from someone else's river blog. He handed me the leatherbound journal and invited me to add my name to the many other travelers who had stopped through. My blue ink filled the final page of the ledger and a new one sits ready for the next wayward traveller.
At sunset, they departed the island leaving me in the bunkhouse alone. I sipped my last beer and watched the lightning storm passing to the north. The brilliant white floodlight of a tow bathed the bunkhouse in an otherworldly glow as the pilot hunted for the channel markers in the dark. The rumble of diesel engines carries downstream and passes within a few hundred feet of the cabin door. If you're headed through Alexandria, stop in and say hello.