Missouri Hicks on the River

Despite my recent grievous injuries on our last float trip I signed up for more abuse. This time we hit Garrison Canoe Rental & Campground in Steelville, Missouri. There was a lot of rain in the forecast, and we got dumped on pretty good, so we opted to just float and not stay the night.

This time was the Meramec River. I've done this several times and... I'm going to be honest with you every single river looks the same to me.

I put on a disgusting amount of sunblock this time to show my disdain for heavenly fireballs.

For some reason Lydia was drawn to eating at Missouri Hick Bar-B-Q.

Vaccination Finally Pays Off

We took a bit of a detour from today's excursion to claim a prize which is rightfully ours: doughnuts!

People like doughnuts in Fenton a whole lot it turns out. We tabled this plan as we had other things to attend to.

I can't drive past Bourbon, Missouri without imagining their water tower full of booze.

I love small town classic ice cream joints. I don't know what it is about ice cream and burger joints that makes them immune to the ravages of time.

There was a man collecting driftwood pretty ardently on the shore.

The mill at Dillard Mill State Historic Site was built in 1908 and is one of Missouri's best-preserved examples of a water-powered gristmill.

The trail was flooded so we milled around a bit and went home.

We hit Krispy Kreme again on the way back to St. Louis and free sugary victory was ours!

Never felt healthier!

Floatin' Down Ugly River

A big pack of us drove out to Garrisons River Resort near Steelville, Missouri to do a little campin' and a little floatin'. I'm not going to lie, things got pretty trashy out there.

The night of our arrival they had a little karaoke session under a pavillion in the dark.

Some of the yokels were really good at singing. Suspiciously good.

Something you'll learn about me out in real America is that I really like to burn things.

Playing bags by the campfire has a certain romance to it.

The harsh light of day reminded us that we were in real America. It was time to hit the river, pound some beers, and let our buttcracks hang out.

I was a bit confused because in years past the river was so full of rafts that it was hard to navigate. This year there were like 7 total rafts on the whole river. I guess we went kind of late in the season or something.

Stuart brought a box of aviators that completed my nautical camo/state fair lottery hat ensemble.

Everyone was in high spirits. Like the opening scene of a horror movie.

The free beer flowed like milk.

Half of the fun of float trips is arguing when to stop the raft, someone being left behind, them yelling/crying, and criticizing each-other's rowing techniques. You just can't have this brand of fun on land.

Things got sexier and sexier. People were jumping into the river not because of the sun but because their minds had gotten overheated.

There was a rope swing. There's always a rope swing.

I did not jump from a tree branch into whatever pokey dangers were lurking in the muddy water. I instead jumped on the opportunity to take more pictures of myself.

This seems like a picture of us leaving several people to die. Fun fact: Wikipedia says that the Meramec River's name likely means 'the river of ugly fishes' or 'ugly water' in Algonquian. That feels right.

I seem to have been legally deceased for an hour or two.

You never know when you might wake up from your nap real thirsty. Best to keep a beer handy.

I guess at some point there were more people dead than alive. We were essentially shipwreck victims waiting for rescue by the time we got to the end.

A highlight of going on float trips in rural Missouri is the opportunity to ride on a school bus that dates back to prohibition.