Denali National Park

Before I write anything more, let me get this out of the way: Denali National Park is overrated. There, I've said it. It may sound like sacrilege to some, but it's true. Don't get me wrong, it's not that it is not beautiful, breathtaking, humbling, and all of that, but you don't have to go into the National Park (click on the map to the left for a full-size version) to experience all these things. Instead, you could just go back down to Cantwell and take Highway 8, the "Denali Highway" and be just as in the middle of nature as you are in the park. If Mount Denali is what you are after, chances are you will not see it anyway because it makes its own, bad weather. And the only way you can get into the park is inside a very uncomfortable bus, but more on that later.

Sunrise over Denali

We awoke to a most beautiful sunrise early in the morning. Rarely have I seen such a striking sunrise with deep reds across the entire eastern sky. The above picture is quite blurred, but the best I could do with my little digital camera.

We headed out towards the Denali Wilderness Access Center at the entrance to Denali National Park, from where we were scheduled to take the 7:30 a.m. shuttle bus into the park, all the way out to Fish Creek. These shuttle buses sell out quickly and should be reserved well in advance, as they are the only transportation into the park. They are converted school buses, painted green, that are not only very uncomfortable, but also offer only obstructed views&the window dividers are all helpfully at eye level. And then there are the fellow passengers, of course. Shy at first, everyone quickly gets used to each other and becomes friendly, which leads to endless joking that is not funny. "Look! Rock sheep!" You see, these sheep are not really sheep, they are merely rocks that look like sheep. Hence, rock sheep. Get it? Precious, even after 8 hours of repetition.

Colors in Denali

In the end, though, Denali is still Denali, and minor quibbles aside, it is a place of stunning grandeur. There was a mix of rain and sunshine, which led to rich contrasts and gave the place at least a semblance of scale. Spotting animals in the wilderness was everyone's first objective, and we saw some, though not many. In order of increasing ferocity: rock sheep (haha!), squirrels, goats, caribou (one), and grizzlies. I only managed to photograph grizzlies, and here are some pictures:

Grizzlies in Denali

A walk in the park with the cubs

Out for a tasty berry snack

Grizzlies in Denali

People don't bother you when you are at top of the food chain

Even Grizzlies appear small here

It was a long ride into the park in the back of an uncomfortable, hot and dusty bus, so after our turnaround, we decided to get off and hike around on our own for a while. This turned out to be an excellent choice, for once the bus had left us, we were all alone, it was quiet, and nobody was pointing out rock sheep anymore.

Ericca in Denali

We went off the gravel road and into a glacial riverbed, a sidearm of the Toklat River, along which we hiked back towards the Toklat River ranger station, which we new to be only a few miles down the same river.

Spring and glacial waters mix

The sidearm of the main river clearly had a different source, as you can see in the above picture. Glacial rivers always carry lots of silt, whereas spring-fed rivers are clear. The majority of rivers in Alaska is gray, as on the right, flowing from the large glaciers in the Alaska range.

Walking down the riverbed

We made out way back down the river, with an incredibly strong wind at our backs. At the ranger station, we waited for a little while and caught the next shuttle bus back. Different people, same jokes. There is something universal about the human experience, isn't there?

A stormy day in Denali

We returned to the Wilderness Access Center around 4:30 p.m. and had dinner at a pizza place in the town that surrounds the park's entrance. I'm not aware of any name for the place, but it could rightly be called Princess Town because every business appears to be owned by Princess Cruises.

Colorful Alaska

Finally, we drove the few miles back to our motel and turned in for the night, tired from a long day. The night was again fully overcast, and we could not see any northern lights.

Anchorage to Healy

We had an appointment with Talkeetna Air Taxi at 9:30 in the morning, so we had to get up early in Anchorage to make the two hour drive to Talkeetna. The drive itself was not too spectacular because it went through mostly flat terrain and the small Parks Highway was thickly lined with trees on both sides. At milepost 99, hang a right, and you will be in Talkeetna before you know it. Talkeetna is a beautiful little town of about 700 year-round residents, located at the confluence of three glacial rivers: the Susitna, Chulitna, and Talkeetna. It lies in the flat, glacier-ground plains that lead to the mighty Alaska range, which can be seen in the distance.

Denali beyond the Susitna River

Mount Denali, or Mount McKinley, as it is known outside of Alaska, is seen in the picture above, and he is the reason we came to Talkeetna in the first place. The naming of said mountain is rather interesting. Denali, which in the Athabascan language means "the great one" or "the high one," makes perfect sense. You could imagine some Athabascan's looking at the mountain and thinking to themselves: "That sure it the biggest mountain I've ever seen, let's call it Denali." McKinley is a less obvious choice, but that only makes it more interesting.

William Dickey, who was prospecting in the area in the very late 19th century, loved nothing more than to argue with his travel companions about one of the hottest political issues at the time: whether the monetary standard of the United States should be based on gold, as the Republicans wanted, or silver, which was supported by the Democrats. Dickey was a Republican, his companions Democrats. So when he got back home, he reported his "discovery" of the large mountain and named it "Mount McKinley," in honor of William McKinley, a Republican leader and then president, who led the United States through the Spanish-American War and was assassinated in 1901, half a year into his second term. But mostly Dickey did it to spite his travel companions.

Now, that seems like a goofy reason for a mountain to have a name that nobody in Alaska likes, so why is it still called McKinley? Well, a mountain's name can only be changed by the U.S. Geographic Names Board IF it is not being considered by Congress. And since 1975, when a name change was first officially requested by the residents of Alaska, Ohio Congressman Ralph Regula, who occupies the same seat that William McKinley held (who later also became governor of Ohio), has prevented the Names Board to enact any changes by including a single sentence as a budget amendment stating that McKinley is the permanent name of the mountain. Hence it is Congress's business, and the Names Board cannot touch it. Sound strange? Sure does, but it's true. Call Ralph, if you don't believe me.

Approaching Denali between the Tokositna (left) and Ruth Glaciers

But in keeping with the wishes of the Alaskans, I will henceforth refer to the mountain as Mount Denali. And Mount Denali, we were told, is best seen from the air because there is now other way to comprehend its scale. This is probably true, although to really understand how big the mountain is, one would have to climb it, which thousands of people attempt every year. To do this, they fly from Talkeetna to Base Camp, which is nestled between the two peaks of Denali, still a several days' hike from the top. Mount Denali's north face is about 15,000 feet tall. This makes it the largest mountain wall in the world. Indeed, Denali stands higher from its surroundings than Mount Everest because the Himalayas are so tall to begin with. The Alaska Range, by contrast, rises from only a few thousand feet elevation, which makes the peaks all the more impressive.

Denali's twin peaks: North (left, 19,470 ft) and South (20,320 ft)

What we were told is true, a flight around Mount Denali is expensive, but worth every penny. This is one of the few truly magnificent experiences in life, and if you are ever in Alaska, do not miss it. Having said that, I am not sure that I can tell you much more about our flight than to show you a few pictures. Keep in mind that these were taken with my little point-and-click digital camera, but even with a big, fancy camera, I could have never done the scenery justice. This experience is exactly that: an experience. To really understand, you just had to be there. And even having been there, I still feel like it was all on a scale that was simply too large to grasp.

Turning into the 747 gorge - literally big enough for a Boeing 747

Following the Ruth Glacier back South

Terminal moraines insulate the ice below

Back to Talkeetna airport

Our ride: a DeHavilland Beaver

After this almost two hour-long flight, we strolled around Talkeetna for a while, which had by now filled up with cruise ship passengers who were on an inland expedition organized by one of the two (really one) cruise ship companies that own Alaska. But more on that later.

Talkeetna Central Station

We really liked Talkeetna, and it was to remain one of our favorite towns among all those we would see in Alaska. A train follows the tracks north into the lakes, and it is one of the last trains in the world that you can actually flag down to get a ride. I suppose there are not too many passengers, and it is not exactly a bullet train.

From Talkeetna, we went back to the Park Highway and continued on our trip towards Denali, which we actually passed to get to Healy and our very nice Motel Nord Haven for the night. Healy has about 1,000 residents, and it serves mainly as a starting point for trips into Denali National Park, our destination for tomorrow. We had Spaghetti and Meatballs at Rose's Diner, a converted trailer, right next door, along with all the locals, who discussed things like what to do with the moose they had just killed with their car when their freezers were already full with two bears. You know, the kind of stuff that occupies the mind in Alaska. Waste not, want not.

Minneapolis to Anchorage

Alaska. Or Alaxsxaq, the Great Land, as it was known to the first inhabitants of the Aleutian Islands. And they would know, for their ancestors had traveled far: from the eastern steppes of Siberia farther and farther East, until they finally crossed the Bering Straight and made their way down the coast of their new continent and eventually followed the Aleutian Islands back westwards until they could go no farther. It was they who greeted the first European explorers and told them the name of this great new frontier, which is now the last, according to the license plates of its present residents.

Whether or not the Aleutians were actually aware of the true vastness of this peninsula, which is large enough to be called a sub-continent by some, the name is certainly appropriate. Descriptions of Alaska invariably end in superlatives. Alaska is, for example, the largest of the United States. If it were split in half, Texas would still only be the third largest state. Alaska is the westernmost, easternmost, and northernmost state. 10,000 lakes? How does three million sound? And yet, for all its size, only North Dakota, Vermont, and Wyoming have fewer human residents than Alaska's 670,000. This, then, is Alaska: a juxtaposition of extremes, in which nature with its crass geology, large animals, and sheer size dwarfs the tiny human development that has taken hold here over the millenia.

But I get ahead of myself. We left Minneapolis on the very last Sun Country flight of the brief 2007 season. Sun Country usually means a relatively relaxing Humphrey Terminal at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, direct flights, snacks on board, and friendly staff. And so it was today, the check-in line was non-existent, and neither was the security line. The Monday after Labor Day must not be the most popular travel day of the year, fancy that. The airplane was half empty, and the almost six hour long flight turned out to be quite enjoyable.

Leaving Minneapolis

Not only was the flight enjoyable because it was not very crowded, but it was a beautiful day across North America, and we were treated to some beautiful views of, at first, our friendly neighbors to the North, and then what we had come to see: Alaska.

Oh, Canada

Into the Great Wide Open

Little Italy?

The Harding Icefield

The weather was so good that we could even see Mount Denali on the horizon as we descended into Anchorage. Anchorage itself is not much to write home about, in my opinion. To me, it mostly stands out as the great FedEx transportation hub through which all the tasty Apple products pass on their way from China to Minneapolis when ordered online.

Millions and millions of iPods served daily

At the airport, we quickly picked up our rental car for the week, a Dodge Caliber. If you ever wonder what is wrong with the American car industry, go ahead and rent a 2007 Dodge Caliber, and all your questions will be answered. It is a true lesson in complacency. Remember when we used to laugh at the Japanese cars? Nobody is laughing anymore. Except the Japanese, of course. The Koreans are next, and then the Chinese. How you can seriously expect to stay in business if you make cars like the Dodge Caliber is beyond my comprehension. That's really all I have to say about that anymore.

We checked into the Voyager Hotel, which I cannot quite recommend because the non-smoking rooms smelled pretty smokey, but it was okay. A stroll through Anchorage's downtown mostly revealed how small the town is and how insignificant its history, in the grand scheme of things. Alaska, it seems, is all about the outdoors, nature. People are an afterthought at best, unless they carry and spill over a million barrels of oil, as did the Exxon Valdez on that fateful spring day in 1989.

Well, we are here. Tomorrow we head North, towards Talkeetna, and ultimately Healy, outside Denali National Park. Then we will see the Alaska for which we came here, the one that was promised us by the views from the airplane.

New Orleans to Minneapolis

Click the map for route details

To get back to Minneapolis from New Orleans, I decided to take an Amtrak train, whose pace seemed more appropriate to ending a long bike trip than a plane's would have been. After over thirty hours in the Amtrak system, I can really only sum it up with one word: pathetic.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me explain.

Convenience is Amtrak's biggest selling point. You can ride trains without having to bother with the hassles of airline travel: getting to faraway airports, excessive security measures, long waiting times before boarding, slow check-in, etc. Trains dispense with all of these concerns. Or so they should. Let's see how Amtrak stacks up against airlines.

Location
The train station was only a few blocks from my hotel, right inside downtown New Orleans, which is very convenient.

Amtrak vs. Airlines: 1:0

New Orleans Amtrak station

Luggage
If you have ever taken a bike on a plane, you know that you have to box it up and fit it into a pretty small box, and that can take a little while. On a train, one would think, no boxing should be necessary, you can just roll your bike right into the luggage car, which is how it is in Germany, for example. Not here, though. You still have to box up your bike, and even though the box is bigger than on an airplane, you still have to take off the pedals, turn your handlebars, and remove all your luggage. Minus one for Amtrak for eliminating an advantage.

Amtrak vs. Airlines: 0:0

I put my bike in a box for you

Network
Amtrak's network is ridiculous, that's all there is to it. Take a look at their entire network of passenger routes. This for a country of 300 million people. As a result, trains are few and far between.

Amtrak vs. Airlines: 0:1

How many trains for a million people?

Speed
Another great advantage of trains is that while they travel more slowly than airplanes, the travel from city center to city center and dispense with length check-in procedures, so that they often end up being faster overall than airplanes. Not so for Amtrak on any possible routes along the way from New Orleans to Chicago.

First of all, the trains are incredibly slow, and the track congested. To get into the Chicago station, for example, the train went past the station, then turned around to back into the station. This maneuver alone took over half an hour, for a distance anyone could have walked in less than five minutes.

Chicago, only half an hour to go

And even when the tracks are clear, trains cannot exceed a speed of 80 mph because the tracks are so bad. Any train you could possible build would not be able to go faster than 80 mph because it would simply jump of these poorly built tracks. The following picture shows you the main track that leads from Chicago to the Pacific Northwest.

Amtrak vs. Airlines: 0:2

Gateway to the West: Empire Builder tracks

Convenience
This category is really part of speed, but trains have always been convenient and fun because you can just walk up to them, get in and go. Well, not with Amtrak, not anymore. Check-in lines are pretty much identical to those seen at airport terminals. Why? I have no idea, and I am not sure that anybody does. It's just ridiculous.

Amtrak successfully eliminating its last remaining competitive advantage

Well, at least you can take your luggage on and just get off after you arrive, right? Wrong. Anything that is not "carry-on" needs to be checked. As a result, you wait at a baggage claim when you arrive, just like you do at an airport. Fun. Minus one for Amtrak on both counts.

Amtrak vs. Airlines: -2:2

Why would Amtrak want to emulate air travel?

You see that this comparison is quickly becoming meaningless. I am not sure what Amtrak stands for, but it must have something to do with Amateur. They have successfully eliminated any competitive advantage over airlines they could have, and they have left every possible downside in place. The only possiblity I see to salvage railroad travel in the United States is to build an entirely new system from the ground up, as has been started with the Acela system on the East Coast. The Chicago-Milwaukee-Madison-Minneapolis corridor might be a good place to start.

And so Amtrak is only left with a few upsides that are inherent to train travel, and which are why people still use trains on occasion.

Nostalgia
Train travel still has an air of adventure about it, despite Amtrak's best efforts to eliminate it. Just seeing a train that has not been substantially redesigned for decades triggers something in people that just makes them want to travel. Fernweh.

The City of New Orleans

A hint of busier times

Comfort
In general, trains are more comfortable than airplanes, no doubt. Coach class is not great, but it offers more leg room than business class on airplanes, and overnight trains also offer cabins and "roomettes," along with a dining car, observation deck, and even showers.

Roomy roomette, facing forward

Roomy roomette, facing backward

Sleeping on a train is not easy because the cars are so tall and the tracks so bad that it is a little bit like sleeping on the back of a bull, sometimes it throws you off, but all this is certainly much more comfort than airplanes could ever hope to offer.

Scenery
From a train, you can also watch the countryside crawl by, whereas the view from an airplane is often limited by small windows and clouds. I recognized many areas along the way, we crossed my cycling routes several times, and after crossing the Mississippi River in La Crosse, the train followed the tracks along the Great River, bringing back what are already mere memories.

Highway and rails straddle Lake Pontchartrain

Jackson, capital of Mississippi

Sunrise over Illinois

Beautiful Winona

Conclusion
Train travel in the United States is not meant as a serious means of transportation and cannot become one unless the infrastructure is substantially changed and re-built from the ground up.

Interestingly, railway situations in the United States and Germany are somewhat reversed. In the U.S. it is all about freight trains of enormous length that haul incredible loads over very long distances, but they are slow. This works because so much is hauled that the speed is less important, much as in shipping on the oceans. This does not work well for passengers, though. In Germany, the network is optimized for passenger travel, trains are much shorter, faster, and smoother than here. This means that cargo trains are also smaller and transport is more expensive.

What Amtrak sells, then, is not transportation, but adventure. It is an extremely amateurishly operated organization that somehow manages to maintain some of the flair of exploration. Perhaps the sense of adventure is precisely a result of the lack of routine professionalism. Everything is exciting, nothing makes much sense. Take, for example, the emergency windows.

Is pulling the emergency window towards you a good idea?

So I will only take Amtrak again if I have a lot of time on my hands and happen to be going between two places that are served by Amtrak, which is highly unlikely, considering how limited the network is. Most developing countries have better train systems than the United States, which is sad but true. Maybe I'll go ride the trains there.

And yet, I had a good time.

Mississippi River Crossings
I was hoping to make it to thirty crossings on my trip, and, with the help of the Empire Builder, I did. Here is the last daylight crossing of the trip, the Mississippi by La Crosse, Wisconsin.

Mississippi River Crossing 30

Donaldsonville to New Orleans

Click the map for route details

Today the last leg, fittingly almost entirely along the Great River. I arrived in New Orleans, tired from the long journey and became distracted by the city, fatigue, then the bridge collapse in Minneapolis. As a result, I never wrote about today until just now, when I am already safely back in Minneapolis. I apologize for the delay.

Bridges
The land here is now completely flat, and the few bridges that span the Mississippi rise majestically above the river and present the highest elevations for miles around. The Mississippi River Trail follows the west bank of the river until Edgard, where a ferry crosses into Reserve. Somehow I managed to miss the ferry; it was either poor signage or I was not paying attention. My guess is the former. As a result, I crossed the river not on a ferry, but on the third of the bridges below. It was a major highway, but with a very wide shoulder.

First Mississippi River bridge

Second Mississippi River bridge

Third Mississippi River bridge

Industry
An open shipping channel for even the largest ocean-going ships, plenty of cooling water, cheap land: great for heavy industry. Indeed, the Great River here is dominated by heavy industry, oil, energy, chemicals, and shipping. The day began with a ride past a chemical plant that created a long road of clouds that went on for miles. All I had to do was follow it to reach the next plant.

Something in the air this morning

Here, where once the white gold cotton dominated an entire society, oil now reigns supreme. Some cotton fields still remain, but even they are likely to be replaced by corn soon. What are you wearing?

Black gold replacing the white

The scale of the oil storage tanks here is mind-boggling and almost impossible to capture from the ground with my little camera. Each tank is about the size of a football field, and they are clustered in dozens. Huge pipelines continually cross the River Road, over and under, and serve to unload oil tankers into the tanks. The smell of petrochemicals is always in the air, often accented by sulfur, and the distinct smell of epoxies spices things up from time to time. Nothing like a ride through the fresh air of the open country.

It is not all oil, though. I also rode past a nuclear power plant (which was shut down completely during Hurricane Katrina), and various chemical plants. And the entire ground seems to be completely filled with gas pipelines, which pop up from time to time. Impressive, these bowels of our great civilization—they are what keeps us going.

Nuclear power plants require lots of cooling water

The human element at Dow Chemical Company

The other side of the river was then more dominated by edibles, a separation that I definitely appreciate, even if it may only be symbolic. Here on the east bank, enormous Bunge grain silos line the river. Trains and barges come in from the North, dumping the grains of the greater Midwest into these silos, from where they are in turn dumped into large ships that will carry them all over the world, to the dismay of all the non-subsidized farmers out there.

Bunge: where all grain roads converge

It is quite the reverse of what happens at the oil terminals, where the ships are unloaded. I would imagine that the owners of these ships do not want to sail their ships empty, but what do they do? Perhaps they unload their oil near New Orleans, then move up-river to take on grains to bring back home. I am sure that is completely safe if you just hose down the inside of the ships' tanks a bit.

America's grain for the World

The World's oil for America

Queuing on the Great River to deliver oil or take on grain

Communities
Among all this super-sized industry, the old communities along the way almost get lost. They are, as farther north, typically not much to write home about, although from time to time something catches the eye.

St. John the Baptist catholic church, 1770

This area is also noticeably within the sphere of influence of the Big Easy. Huge and tasteless new mansions are being built, most likely on oil wealth, and always in clusters with high-flying names. You can find them anywhere around America's cities, no need to put up a picture. Another, more subtle change occurs in the people I see. Whereas before today even the young were mostly friendly, they have now turned gangsta, too cool and dangerous for most things, and certainly lycra-clad bikers. And, as in any self-respecting city, even here there are drivers who will take the time to angrily yell at you to "Ride on the f'ing sidewalk!" That gets me every time. Would you ride on this sidewalk, which is exactly where the fat lady suggested I ride?

Why not ride on the sidewalk?

Finally, there is still some of the antebellum flair left. The Oak Alley Plantation, for example, was built from 1837-39 by Jacques T. Roman in a Greek revival architectural style and the 28 oak trees in front of it are supposed to be at least 100 years older than the house.

Oak Alley Plantation

The Mississippi River by the Oak Alley Plantation

New Orleans
And then—finally—the Big Easy. All the way into New Orleans, the river trail runs atop the levee that protects the city from the Mississippi River. For all the hype about the awesome levees, I have to say that I am not impressed. These are no bigger than any of the dikes you might find along the Weser or Elber rivers in northern Germany. I suppose they get the job done, the threat from the river is apparently not the worst anyway. During Hurricane Katrina, these dikes held up just fine, it was those around Lake Pontchartrain that failed.

Ho-hum

The first thing I did upon entering New Orleans was to get lost. Actually, I did this before entering New Orleans because I did not have complete maps and thought myself one riverbend farther down the river than I was. Not to worry, though, a nice tour through the gut-wrenching outskirts that every major American city seems to have. Nothing like mortal fear or being killed dead to revitalize body and mind to finish up a long ride.

Once I found my way back to the levee, I continued on to Audubon Park, a very nice park in the southwest of the city, adjacent to Tulane and Loyola.

Audubon Park, New Orleans

Then, on my way through the beautiful neighborhood east of the universities and on through much, much poorer quarters towards the eastern parts of the city, it finally happened. The roads of New Orleans had that one pothole too many, and 2276 miles into the trip I broke a spoke in my rear wheel and the tire went flat. Rather than fixing it then and there, I walked the last two miles of my journey. On foot. I am not too proud to admit that while I had biked over a thousand times as far, two miles of walking was all it took to give me a blister. What a finish, just like the legendary (and fictional) race between the two steamers that would determine who would dominate river commerce for years to come. The Illinois, of the established company, won the race, but because their refueling station had been sabotaged, they had to burn the ship's wood to power it, which led to many leaks, and just as the steamer tied up at the dock, wining the race, it sank. But as for me: no matter, the race was finished successfully.

Final destination: Hotel Le Cirque

I can definitely recommend the Hotel Le Cirque, which is very centrally located between Garden District and French Quarter, nice, and not at all expensive. Best of all, it provided the most appropriate of all possible final destinations for my trip by offering me a room with a view eye to eye with a larger-than-life General Robert E. Lee.

Eye to eye with General Robert E. Lee, almost

From the hotel, I ventured into the French Quarter of New Orleans, but did not have the time, energy, or sole to explore even this part of the city in depth. That shall require a dedicated trip. I did manage to eat some gumbo. After the gumbo, I had some jambalaya. After the jambalaya, I had some red beans and rice. Unfortunately, I was then too full to try any seafood, you cannot have it all.

While I did not spend much time in the French Quarter, New Orleans's main tourist attraction, I think I got a good impression of it. It is one of those rarities in America: a naturally grown, urban neighborhood that is over a hundred years old. Many of the old buildings are beautiful, but as in most places in this country, cars have invaded and completely taken over even this truly historic district. They do not just pollute aesthetically, they are loud, stinky, and impede pedestrians, who in their presence are confined to narrow sidewalks, mere afterthoughts to the infrastructure. This can ruin just about any neighborhood, as it does in the French Quarter.

In addition, as the main tourist attraction, the French Quarter is a money-maker, and money is best made off belligerent drunkards, as the people of New Orleans well know. Bars and nightclubs, interspersed with gift shops that sell cheap Chinese garbage, are the dominant businesses, and annoying frat boys the patrons. And thus the French Quarter's glory is easily lost among those who do not care, even to those who do.

The French Quarter of New Orleans in a nutshell

Mississippi River Crossings
One final river crossing today, dizzyingly high above the Mississippi over an otherwise flat land. To the left, the barges and silos that feed the world.

Mississippi River Crossing 29

Road Kill Tally
The final results are in. The racoons have shown everyone how to do it, although their complete dominance naturally leads many to suspect foul play. I do not know anything about that, I just count 'em. Congratulations to the racoons.

Who's your daddy?

1. Raccoon: 90
2. Opossum: 65
3. Snake: 36
4. Frog: 31
5. Armadillo: 27
6. Skunk: 26
7. Squirrel: 21
8. Deer: 19
9. Cat: 17
10. Turtle: 15
11. Groundhog: 13
12. Bunnywabbit: 10
13. Mouse: 7
14. Fox: 3
15. Lizard: 3
16. Dog: 3
17. Mole: 2
18. Porcupine: 1
19. Chipmunk: 1
20. Boar: 1

• Bird: 126

Done
So there it is. The Mississippi from top to bottom, 2278 miles in 23 days. Compare that to the 2204 miles the Tour de France did in 21 days. I did not see them haul around all their stuff, ride in the wind all day, or sleep in tents, let alone ride on nothing but Little Debbies, double cheeseburgers, and chocolate milk.

I thank all of you who have been following along these past three weeks. You have been, in a way, my constant companions on this trip. Solitude is fun for a while, but shared solitude even better. I will also report on the Amtrak ride back to Minneapolis, but this concludes the main trip. There is much I meant to mention that escaped my tired mind at the end of many a long day, and I may post more in the future, but if you have had only one percent of the fun reading this that I have had riding it, the mission has been accomplished.