Made it to Vicksburg before the storms. 435 miles to the Gulf! Hello Louisiana.

The heat has been intense for weeks now with highs in the upper 90s and thick humidity. Falling asleep sweating after my evening dip has made for ripe conditions in the boat. Kidding. Life is good and the river has grown with much width and current. The flow is deep and im enjoying it more than last week. Watching out for dikes and such but know I'm nearly done. It is bittersweet but two more weeks to go!

It was with great emotion that I crossed the channel before an unbound tow and paddled freely past Fort Defiance and the end of Illinois and onto the broad confluence with the Ohio. The Ohio, I learned, carries twice the flow of the Mississippi and the width of these two combined rivers is impressive. Wing dams and dikes, once inconsequential marks on the map are now built of rock and extend above the surface. Staying near the channel is key to staying safe and making time. It's easy to knock out 40 mi days and I've had a few easy 50 mile days with the cooler weather in the 80s.

Heading downstream, I spot another small boat up ahead. As I paddle from right bank to left, I recognize it as Jeff. He's surprised to see me and points behind where his three other friends are playing catch up. How unusual a feeling to be out here with other boats my size. The miles go quickly when you've got company. We make decisions as a group somewhat and I feel a small sense of security in our flotilla. I also have the vague thought that this is how whole armadas are lost. Approaching Hickman, a storm moves in from the west as the ferry lands. I paddle over and confirm they have beer on the other side in town. A few of them take off for the ferry on foot like a hairy castaway version of Baywatch. They pay their $1 crossing fee and all hit the vending machine for an ice cold coke. The final ferry returns at 615 and they're all aboard with boxes of beer. The store was 4 miles and they got a ride from a guy on the ferry. He also gave them 10 beers total on the trip to and from th store. What a whirlwind trip for brews. They arrive just in time for the storm...a storm of awesomeness and camaraderie.

I wake in the morning before the sun, kindle the coals for oatmeal and coffee and shove off onto the quiet and serene river. Ahh bliss. Aaman's head pops out of the tent and says goodbye as I shove off. Downstream, ever downstream. The next few days go by in a whirl. Each day is the same 40 miles or so, 95-100F sunshine and violent scattered storms in the afternoon. It's a predictable day and I have to be careful to avoid heat exhaustion. Lots of water and rest stops help to reward me for the long days, paddling until right before sunset before pitching a tent.

Around Sunrise bend last night, I got caught on the outside of two upstream tows while a 6x8 passed the smaller in midstream. The increased speed of the boat in passing and the current built up imposing waves. The frothing giants stood in the river dancing white and loud. I kept an eye on them but knew the current from my side, bow into the wake and turbulence from an Eddie would make this extra dangerous. Soon, that rearing 6ft beast of a wave was directly in front of my bow, as if a suction force was drawing me in. Down into a deep trough so low I lost sight of land, the other boats and the wave. The bow dug in cutting a V into the rising wave and I paddled hard. I muttered "Dear God" as the next explosive wave crashed before me. If that was my bow, I'd surely be sunk. Nothing left to do now but paddle. Down into another trough we fell and the massive wave rose overhead. The cresting tip formed and I kept an eye on it while leaning hard into the paddling. It came crashing down with an immense force boiling toward the right side of my boat and turning me nearly sideways. The water splashed over the bow and into my lap sloshing around my feet. I had no time to worry about electronics getting wet with the knowledge that another sizeable roller was just ahead. This time, without the foam on top. Repeating the mantra "Paddle hard! PADDLE HARD!" I screamed my way over to the slack area near a bank and waited for the standing commotion to die down. My heart was racing and I'd been sweating since 7am but man that was a thrill and a close call. I tried to recall what I could have done differently and decided that once I heard the captains on the radio call for the pasa, I should have just pulled onto the rocky revetment and waited it out. Knowledge is power and I earned this lesson the hard way.

Following St. Louis, I was happy to see the banks soften and the barges thin. There was still a reliable stream of traffic but nothing like the port. My stove fuel was low so I once again found a Walmart near or on a creek off the river and paddled upstream. Plattin Creek was a relaxing detour I felt was rarely seen by the residents of Crystal City despite living so close. The water worn rock formations along the creek were towering and impressive. Once resupplied and my water jugs full, I headed back to the Big Miss. A local was bow fishing from an abandoned mine bridge. He hollered down he was looking for Carp or Gar but I got the impression he'd try for anything that looked like a fish from up there.

The channel is deep here and powerful in flow. The wing dams can be easy riffles or precarious rock hazards as I found out today. On a few occasions I had to take the smoothest shoot down a 1 foot drop and had a dangerous careening smack from a boulder below the smooth rolling surface. Adrenaline was pumping as the bow surged down into the churning eddy but I dug my blade in hard and leaned back to lift the bow. THUNK, scrape and we're free and turning about in the hydraulics afterward. Do that a few times and the main channel sounds rather appealing when a tow isn't headed up or down. I've got to stay vigilant all the time and keep and eye out for those fast leviathans.

Thunderstorms have been a frequent occurrence in the afternoon. Yesterday I put up my tarp three times for a passing storm. The upside is collection of water for coffer and other boiled things. The storms sometimes cool things off but often are so quick it just becomes a hot and humid stckiness. A cold front is blowing in now and offering some lightning over the river to the west. This is the last night I'll camp in Illinois as I'm only 2 miles from the confluence with the Ohio River. I'm excited for the new adventure as the river broadens on the final 965 miles to the Gulf of Mexico. I'm finding that when the weather is favorable, 50-60 mile days are possible (like today). I'd have kept on but I've got a sweet care package from Mike and Holly waiting for me at a post office across the KY side. Hope it arrived as I'm flying now with this current. We'll see where it takes me in the next three weeks!

At first light I paddled away from my Island camp toward the confluence of the Missouri River. I paddled into the confluence and let the currents spin me around. The power of the water is phenomenal.

Up ahead, a sign signals "Canal, All Boats". Not this boat. I had news from Jeff that the portage was easy at the Chain of Rocks, an underwater low-water dam. The St. Louis gauge was at 17.5ft and the suggested limit for paddling is 18 at the least. I didn't want to push my luck and was happy to get that portage finished and out of the way in the shade early. I made some well deserved oatmeal with protein shake powder in it and set off into the morning. The absence of commercial boats for the 9 mile stretch here was a real joy. Little did I know what I'd be up against shortly.

After the canal joins the river again, I let a downstream tow pass then continue in its frothy wake. Tall cranes, refineries, graineries and metal recycling operations line the shore. Barges are stacked 10-12 wide in some places jutting into the already narrow channel. I've found its easy to tell which boats are operational by the spinning radar unit. The wakes from upstream tows here build on the river and make for dangerous conditions. At one point the waves were taller than my head in the boat. I felt like a cork bobbing in the sea and hoped the oncoming ships could spot the orange canoe. Multiple times, I'd be avoiding a stack of moored barges when a tug would steam up the bank toward me and try to slip between me and the barges. Other times when a major tow was coming down or up, a tug would come out from behind a line or moored barges and put me in the middle of their wake. The last 5 hours were pretty intense paddling. It didnt help thst it was 105F during this heat wave.

Oh yeah, there's a giant arch here chock full of sweating tourists.

I'm camped out off Mapple Island a few miles away from downtown St L.ouis. It has been a challenging few days due to the heat but Im making due. This morning the Illinois River joined to amplify the current. Now through the Mel Price Lock and Dam 26, I can say goodbye to these Corps of Engineer stop signs. Tomorrow morning I will pass the confluence of the Missouri River then portage around the Chain of Rocks low water dam, a 200ft carry. After this, it becomes a dam-free river.. It feels more powerful and the current and waves pack a punch if not paying attention. I'm looking forward to getting through the "cancer alley" and past the city.