Woke up with an aching body, but a soaring mind. My fingers are so swollen I'm not sure I'll be able to grip a beer tonight. That would be tragic.
We made it to Venice around 9:30 this morning and paddled about a half mile off the main channel into Cypress Cove. It was a beautiful area. There were houses lined up around the cove much like houses around a cul-de-sac. The only difference being that instead of having garages with driveways and cars there were boats and boat houses and lifts.
We tied up our canoe next to all the big, ocean bound boats and walked down the dock towards the marina. We got some snacks and chatted with the employees to get an idea as to our best course of action. Again, it was to ask somebody at the marina for a ride back up or to take our chances on finding somebody once we got down there. There was a map of the United States with pins marking where people traveled from. It was incredible to see the route we had taken from Northern Minnesota all the way down to Venice, Louisiana. I put a pin near where Rush City, MN would be and we ventured outside to ask strangers for a ride.
The first couple of people we asked could not help us out. We did end up talking to them for awhile though. Most of them were very interesting and easy to talk to. They were also very interested in our adventure and many said they would love to help out, but couldn't because they had clients to cater to.
We came to a boat and Anders had to knock on the window to get the attention of the crew. Two men came out and I could tell they were immediately interested in our trip and helping us out. They seemed very apprehensive, but I could tell they were going to have a hard time saying no. They were exchanging glances back and forth trying to read each other's thoughts when I said, "I'll give you the canoe as payment." They laughed. I wasn't joking. Earlier in the day I was trying to figure out what to do with it when we finished. It was a thought I hadn't given much attention to previously, because I was contemplating staying in Venice. That morning I decided I should go home and since then I had been on the look out for places to ditch it in the weeds.
One of the men looked at the other and asked, "Should we help them out?"
The other replied, "Yeah, let's do it."
WE HAD A RIDE BACK FROM THE GULF!!!!!!
We were incredibly happy. Smiles as big as ocean tankers spanned our faces. We both thanked them thoroughly and then answered any questions they had for us. Turns out, one of them has thought about paddling the Mississippi himself. The other has done some paddling near Lafayette, LA. I again offered my canoe as payment. The one who paddled a bit in Lafayette accepted and said, "I've always wanted a canoe." It made me happy to know she was going to a man who would appreciate her.
Venice was about 10 miles from mile zero, the "end" of the river, and the Gulf was another 8 or so miles from that. They agreed to meet us in the Gulf in three hours.
The river branches out into three main passes from mile zero. Pretty much everyone we talked to said to take the South Pass as it was free of barge and tanker traffic, was the main pass used by fishing boats, and was the shortest of the passes. We hugged the left shore as instructed and then paddled across the mouth of the eastern most pass, straight towards the South Pass. All along the way there were small openings in the river in which we could see massive expanses of water. The ocean was so close! We continued on, however, down the pass towards our designated meeting place just South of Port Eads, a docking and refueling area as well as a resort of sorts.
It was a very hot day and we were short on water. We also hadn't eaten enough. We did so well this whole trip on making sure we were fueled efficiently, but the excitement of finishing caused us to forget to eat or fill waters. A part of this is that we thought it would only take three hours to finish. It ended up taking five. The current was weak and so were we.
As we passed Port Eads we saw the boat that was picking us up. At least they had a place to hang out while waiting for us to crawl across the finish line.
Shortly after Port Eads we reached a point in which all we could see was massive expanses of water: the Gulf of Mexico. Although weak and malnourished, I felt incredible; the most alive I had ever felt. I let out the loudest victory cry of my life.
We took pictures, tried to take it all in, and waited for our ride to meet us. They soon arrived and one of them gave us a victory fist pump. A small gesture, but one that sent chills through me. We loaded our gear into their boat, strapped the canoe in, and took off for Venice. One of them asked if I thought the canoe was strapped in efficiently. I said, "I think so. If not, it's not my canoe anymore. So I'm not too worried about it." He smiled.
What took five hours in a canoe took 40 minutes in a boat with a 150 horsepower motor. We may have chosen the wrong form of transportation. During these 40 minutes we talked to our new friends. They had been given free beer while waiting for us at Port Eads. It is partly because of them that Port Eads is so busy and successful. They survey the ocean for navigation hazards and allow the channel to remain safe and busy. We were asked many questions and gladly answered all of them. We were flying pretty high with the realization of our journey's completion. We kept thanking them for helping us and they kept saying they were just happy to be a part of such an awesome accomplishment.
Shortly after unloading our gear, loading the canoe onto the surveyors truck, and saying our goodbyes, Jarred, Anders' brother, arrived in Venice. It was unbelievable how well it worked out. He drove 18 hours non-stop and arrived within 15 minutes of us getting back to Venice.
We got food at Cypress Cove. Fried alligator, catfish po boy, fried catfish, and... a cheeseburger? Real nice choice, Anders. A man overheard our conversation and we started talking to him. He was a casual fisherman in the area for the tournament that was going on. Although we only chatted for a brief time, he sneakily bought our dinner. Thank you, sir.
Our body odor pungently filling the car (sorry Jarred) we made the short drive to the city that would host our victory celebration; New Orleans. The drive back up allowed for a lot of reflection. An idea that formed in my head four years prior had come to culmination. I planned a lot and gave up a lot in order to get to this point. I saved enough money to pay for the trip as well as continue paying student loans, spent hours reading blogs and websites, studied furiously over supplies to pack, lost a girlfriend, quit a full-time job, and left an area in which I had many friends and connections. Not to mention the 50 some odd days spent paddling 2,552 miles.
I also gained a lot. New friends, incredible experiences, wonderful memories, exposure to places I had never been before, and a new appreciation for my paddling partner, Anders Carlson. We had our arguments and we both exercised a lot of self control in not strangling each other, but when it was all said and done our friendship was still very much intact. Thank you Ders.
As I walked down Bourbon Street, my body still aching, mind still soaring, beer (thankfully) fitting snuggly between my still swollen fingers, I thought about all of these things. The things I gave up can again be found. The things I gained can never be lost. I smiled. The journey was complete.
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