The Outdoorsman

18 Mile Island. Mile 582
The Island

The miles are counted upstream from Louisville. To say Louisville properly you’d train with a marble rolling in your mouth. 

Like Cincinnati, Louisville felt unapproachable by boat. I kept moving. Louisville has some particular and easy to understand history. Before dams and locks, the most challenging part of the river was Louisville’s distinction. Boats had to go down the rapids, a downhill run of shoals and rocks. The locks were a much better choice. I had to wait for a tow, so made breakfast floating above the lock. 

Another 30 miles down, I thought I found a gas source, up a stream by Westpoint KY. There I met Andrew bowfishing carp. He explained there is no season. The Star wants their numbers reduced. I explained to him I was getting gas. He said tying to a tree near the first bridge was closest. Then he offered to help. This was huge for me. The mid bank was steep and slippery. I would make three trips. With his help and a short ride in his truck, we got the job done. I learned Andrew is 17, home-schooled and just starting an apprenticeship with the carpenter’s union. The truck was his own, bought new with a co-sign and modest assistance from his father. He’s a hard worker, and has much of it paid off. He’s a remarkable young man. He loves being outdoors, and hunts and fishes year round. I was hoping for a carp to photo, but fishing while watched didn’t work. I was extremely appreciative of his help. 

I’m not at Brandenburg, at The Daily Grind, another station of the coffee revolution. Quality coffee lives on the Ohio.