Spent two nights at Lock 22...just downstream from Rome, NY. Lots of great historical events occurred along the Mohawk...Ft Stanwix and Oriskany Battlefields. These were not numerically large battles but the outcome drove a stake in the Brits plans to split the colonies along the Hudson...leading to his defeat at Saratogo. Brits tried to capture the fort by starving it into surrender. Continental forces accompanied by Oenieda Indian came to the rescue and were met by Brit and other native Indian allies. The Continentals were ambushed and decimated in a narrow ravine near a village of Oriskany. Though a tragic loss for the continentals, the native tribes supporting the British were demoralized and abandoned the Brits when they discovered their camp ravished by militia from the fort. The brit allied natives withdrew forcing the British to abandon their efforts to capture the fort and retreat. Couldn't help but ponder the significance of thi...
This past few weeks on the Illinois, Mississippi, Ohio, Cumberland and now Tennessee Rivers has been an unexpected break from the unrelenting euphoria of the Loop. I learned 30 years ago on our honeymoon that the uncomfortable experiences curiously produce endearing memories. These Rivers were stressful. But I loved it. In addition to the snags, channel-wide barges and shallow anchorages, mentioned in earlier blogs, I can report a new layer of challenge...debilitating heat. As we progressed down the rivers, an extended stretch of 90 + heat added a new layer of discomfort. This converged unfortunately with a dirth of marinas and broad anchorages. Marinas have electricity to fire up the AC. In a broad anchorages, you might catch a breeze. Sadly, all that we available were breathless ditches or narrow backwaters. The anchorages were terrible, hot, buggy and an exercise in fortitute. One "anchorage" was named Little Diversion Creek. This channel was nothing more ...
Chugging along on the Ones and Twos Cowboy Carl, Pere Marquette, Pintail, Joyce Hale, Pin Oak, Anne Elise, Deborah Ann, Drulourette, Praire du Rocher, Wayne LaGrange, Dredge Potter, Susan Stall...some of the endless names of the tows we've passed along the Illinois River. Life is slow on the Illinois. Fits the image of the silty lazy river. During those stretches of river where we have her to ourselves, and the birds swirl overhead, and heron stalk the shoreline, it's easy to imagine a barefoot boy, on a makeshift raft, poling his way down the river. The shoreline is fairly routine. Not much variety excepting the occasional town, silos, and opening in the tree lined embankment to higher berms. We've traversed almost 310 miles of rivers and canals starting in Chicago and what a stunner start that was. A canyon of massive structures, bright and glimmering in the morning sun. It was soon followed by one of the dicier segments we are likely to encounter on the great adventu...
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