I'm going to prove to myself that the world is round, I'll do this by going west for a while, starting at the dividing trough of North America, the Mississippi.

I spent the recent days with the (unfortunately named) MIss Rockaway Armada, about 7 rafts lashed together and moved by a pair of biodiesel-burning VW Rabbit motors with welded-on propeller shafts. About 30 people are traveling from MInneapolis down the Mississippi, perhaps all the way to New Orleans. By the time I arrived crew had really already gone feral. It was obvious for the deep physical filth, vulgarity, cross-dressing, inscrutable references and humor. It all felt very comfortable and familiar.
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Yesterday was the the best day so far on the boat, and also my final. Perfect weather and the motors were working unusually well. My afternoon was spent reclined on the wide bow, watching the river roll beneath us, feeling the serious buzz off some mushroom chocolate. It qualifies as one of my peak moments of living on earth. Our leisurely pace gave ample time to notice the river's secrets... a bald eagle circles then swoops down on a fish, a heron gracefully alights, the breeze gently shaking the drooping deciduous trees, that kind of thing. Also wonderful are successfull launches, when about 20 people simultaneously throw lines, push poles, tow the flotilla out, and drop the engines. Extra-super-nice is the bicycle-operated ferris wheel mounted on a raft just barely large enough for it's base, with the reach of the circle extending over the water, and it's entire cicrular motion perpendicular to the forward motion of the boat. See video.
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My good times were only broken by the brutal looking white pleasure boats. The speedboats and jetskis all look like some kind of xtreme shoe, bulbous plastic ugliness with neon clad operators. Most strange is how these people would gawk at us like a freak show. As long as humans have known how to tie together a few pieces of wood there have been improvised craft, especially on the mississippi, and probably staffed in historical days with the same assortment of nautically-ignorant hobos as this one.
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Today I woke up before dawn to an accordian, actually I didn't really sleep, but I became more conscious when an accordian serenaded the tent and the bushes started rustling. The flotilla was leaving early, at least in theory. A small posse of us went to hop a freight train to the airport. Mostly this involved inquiring with the natives about the habits of trains, then dozing at the proper point of ambush next to the tracks. A few hours of patience produced no northbound train, only a shakedown from some pesky smalltown cops. Despite being featured on the front page of their local newspaper, the "Red Wing Republican-Eagle," and mentioned in the New York Times today, we were offered a choice between jail and get the fuck out of town. After a long sweaty walk on the side of a highway we commenced to hitch hiking, eventually bringing me and T to the Minneapolis airport. Apparently I'm "silver elite" nowadays with my airline (all this traveling pays off?), which bumps me to first class automatically. I thought I'd sleep on the plane, but I want to take advantage of the wide seat, fine dining, and free cocktails so I'm currently pretending to be an important business man, albeit one who hasn't showered or shaved in a week, pecking away at my laptop and sipping fine cognac.


There has been a lot of press for this project, and they always stamp it with the "wacky fun" signifier. To some degree that is the story they have been fed, and some culpability lies in the presentation. Personally, I'd like to think that this project is something more profound. At least it felt more profound to me. Sure it is a pointless mission, a fool's task, since all the performance, frills and idealogy were discarded in the singular quest to keep floating and moving. It is now just a struggle against vagaries of motors, hydrodynamics, penury, group dynamics, ill health, or weather. Not so different from Shackleton, whose antarctic journey set out for some or another scientific purpose but spent the sum of it's mission trying to stay alive. But these kinds of journeys have a deep impact on their participants, and invoke respect or fascination from observers, a lasting effect for both parties.
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Huge thanks to the whole crew for having me. If any of you read this while still on board- DON'T LEAVE! Consensus reality is still awful, you are missing nothing. Also thanks to the Barnstormers, who I've never met but whose sound system enabled me to play a bit.