Rafting Down the Mississippi

People often ask me how I got interested in thehuge lock surrounded by gigantic, terrifying
topic of river cruising. Some of the blame goes toraft-smashing chains of grain-filled barges; or
Mark Twain and his tales of the Mississippi, butalmost being swamped by the wakes of the huge
only a small part. The truth is a more interestingbarges they met; or of the huge northern pike -
story that goes back to the days of yore, whenmore likely a sturgeon - they "almost" caught -
people actually did things.and pulled one of them overboard.
Several older, but maybe not wiser, friends ofPerhaps the most frightening event happened
mine from our tiny village in central Iowa, decidednear St. Louis when they were in the center of a
to traverse the entire 2300 miles of the mightyterrible storm that destroyed the "out-house."
Mississippi River.That was almost enough to make them decide it
It was impossible to make the trip in one shot, sowasn't worth the effort.
they decide to do it in segments. Their plan wasBut they prevailed. Year after year.
to start at Minneapolis and float as far as theyI went off to the Army and never heard any
could during their week's vacation time and thendetails of the downriver leg of the tale. However,
start the next year from where they had left off.they kept the dream alive each year, 200 miles
At less than 200 miles per week, it would take atby 200 miles. Finally some time later, my mother
least a dozen years to accomplish the entiresent me a newspaper clipping: "the boys" and raft
journey.had finally cruised successfully into New Orleans
They built a raft of two giant war surplus rubberand they were on their way home - via bus.
pontoons somehow bolted and lashed together. ItIt would be nice to believe that there was some
was topped by a wooden lean-to and propelled bysort of recognition of the journey, but there was
a tiny outboard engine. Sitting on its trailer, itnone. At the very least, the raft belongs in a
looked like an out-house riding on two giantmaritime museum.
30-foot long hot dogs. These obviously were menInstead, somewhere on the bottom of the Gulf
of great courage - or stupidity.of Mexico rests this wonderful makeshift rickety
I followed this epic for several years, listening toraft. A raft that has the distinct honor of outdoing
their tales after they returned home as theythe imaginary feats of Tom Sawyer and
unloaded, deflated, and dried out their equipment.Huckleberry Finn. As for me, oft-tempted, but
Tying up on the riverbank and sleeping overnightdeciding against repeating the trip, probably in a
on hard, solid ground may sound reasonable tocomfortable house-boat, I settled on writing this
some; however, to me it seemed that was morearticle about it. Much safer by far, but not quite as
like a long, wet, camping trip.exciting.
They told tales about nearly being crushed in a