Storm of funk

The last few weeks have been quite trying. Other than the typical effort of constant paddling daily, some of my gear and myself is starting to fall apart! I've sewn my pants four or five times now with both knees flopping open. Who would have thought 15 year old pants exposed to two and a half months of sun would degrade? My life jacket has busted a number of seams but is holding up okay. My paddling gloves, the old bicycle gloves from my AL trip, have a scent all their own from being wet and sweaty for all this time. Naturally that transfers to my hands so they always smell funky. My hat has been sewn a few times and patched but is just barely holding on. The rope I used to secure it has begun to mildew and the smell of it lingers in my beard. Everything has been wet, mildew and funky for two weeks and I'm happy the end is near.

Tomorrow I hope to stop in St. Francisville for coffee and wifi but, more importantly, to charge my marine radio. It's good to listen in on the large tows around here and I want to be ready for the port of Baton Rouge.


Speaking of which, I'm leaning toward pulling out in New Orleans instead of down in Venice. It may not be "The Gulf" but my experiences with large commercial ports and industrialized areas has been less than enjoyable. I'm just having a hard time convincing myself that paddling along 100 miles of rock and asphalt revetment with freighters clipping past is worth it. Worth what you may ask? I'm still trying to figure that out...

today's 3pm appointment