Four bridges cross the Big Piney River at a spot so rugged it was damn near the last section of Route 66 to be completed. We floated downriver into the shadow of each bridge, close together, from oldest to newest. … Read More
On the fence
about floating in the Ozarks tomorrow.
Erifnus turned 16 this year. Now she can drive all by herself. So I can take a nap tomorrow as we motor to an early morning casting call on the Little Niangua River.
Interview with a Vulture
“Stay away,” she warned. Surprised she didn’t fly away from me, I asked what was wrong. “Ate too much,” she said. “Too heavy to fly.” I’d never been so close to a vulture. But it’s true: when they gorge themselves, … Read More
My bracket was busted. I had little interest in Duke and Kentucky. Besides, a more compelling shade of blue was luring a platoon of paddlers to the Prongs. And our submarine. So we headed to the Prongs. 33rd year. 33 … Read More
First day of fall on the Little Niangua River.