Mugsy

St. Johnsville, NY

36 miles

Today’s theme: heat!  The day started hot and humid and stayed that way, and there is no shade on a guide boat. Covering up helped, but a paucity of wind made today just one long, hot grind. DeWitt Clinton knew that canals are expensive to build, so I guess to control costs and to enable ole Sal to walk a straight line, one can row for miles and miles with nary a turn. The long straightaways make for efficient rowing … but they are, alas, tedious.

But even in the grind there’s excitement if you look for it. I found a world-class malt maker in Ilion, NY; the odometer had just clicked to 17 miles and there, to my left, a malt shop! Sublime.

   

But while I sipped in the shade, trouble was brewing. I returned to the boat with some ice, looking to distribute it between my cooler and ‘Mugsy,’ which I’ve named my big gulp thermos. ‘Mugsy’ was … gone! Had I taken him to the malt shop? The ice vendor? The men’s room? Arrrrgh! Mugsy had been everywhere with me … he’s a fixture on my rows. Why, just the other day, when I drank my fill from him and unscrewed his lid, to see how much fluid was left, I found mold! Lil’ Mugsy was fabricating penicillin to keep me healthy and inoculated! I damn near cried! But now … he was gone!!

I’d lost two shirts and a pair of shorts in my dust-up with Officer Itsillegal back at Mexico Bay … and my favorite Goretex hat to two ladies in Oswego … but now, to lose Mugsy?

My search was fruitless. I was mortified. Who takes a man’s thermos, really?

Resigned to my loss, I climbed into the boat and headed east in the heat. About a mile downstream I spied … Mugsy! Floating face down close to the southern shore, he made no sign of recognition when I called him; I looped around, captured him by his robust handle, and hauled him in the boat – muddy, skanky, but ready to soldier on. He must have fallen in back at the malt shop dock … I never heard a splash or a scream. But he’s safe now, freshly sanitized and ready for another week.    

It’s a stupid story, but today was a pretty uneventful and tedious day. I cracked 500 miles today, and I’m feeling it. When Brian and I did our 502 miles a few years ago, Buzz Lamb, writing for the Lake George Mirror, asked us if we could have kept going. As I recall, Brian and I looked at one another and just laughed; we probably could have, but we were spent.

Tomorrow, I’ll find out what’s left in the tank. As I peruse the chart, it looks like 2 more full days on the Erie, 2 days on the Champlain Canal, and a day or two to Ticonderoga, portage the boat, and float home on our own halcyon waters. So next Saturday if I push, Sunday would be a better bet, or even Monday if a boat or body part crashed. I just gotta keep plugging, heat and tedium aside … I miss all of you guys! I’m not bad company for myself, but I’m getting into terrible arguments now and then and my stubbornness on some topics is appalling.

                 xxoo,

                   Peace, love, and happiness