Postcards from Snagglepuss
Just getting stocked up for some houseboating isn't quite a picnic--or can it be?
DUBUQUE, IA: It certainly took a couple days to reach the Mississippi River from Breezewood, Pennsylvania via US 20 for the most part ... and to cross the Mississippi via the Julien Dubuque Bridge was something of a sign of anticipation for some interesting little escapades ahead.
And with such interesting company of Your Correspondent as Huckleberry Hound and Touché Turtle, Bristlehound and Dum-Dum were bound, in their role as guides, to make sure things were running smoothly. Hence, their directing us via text message to meet them at the Hy-Vee supermarket coming off the bridge into Dubuque. Yes, as in a certain "little old lady from" made infamous, in a way, by Harold Ross in launching that somewhat sophisto and urbane journal known as The New Yorker back in 1925. Insisting that he was not intending The New Yorker to be for the Little Old Lady from Dubuque, implying that she would likely be satisfied with The Saturday Evening Post, Collier's, Grit and Comfort rather than a high-class literary-leaning review.
But back to the Hy-Vee: Both Dum-Dum and Bristlehound would meet us at the entrance for the preparatory shopping trip for supplies heading into the little houseboat excursion. More than likely a "mystery trip," by all assumptions, yet mind you, leave any pretension of emulating Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn at the dock.
Following a modest little cafeteria-manner lunch in Hy-Vee's dining area, something of a staple in their larger locations across eight Midwestern states, Bristlehound and Dum-Dum led the way into getting the necessary supplies: Meal-replacement drinks (mainly for breakfast) ... wholemeal crackers ... cheese spread ... summer sausage ... smoked sausage ... buns ... charcoal ... bottled water, spring and seltzer ... flavouring concentrate ... batteries for the transistor radio ... all in all, just trying to be low-impact more than anything.
As Dum-Dum admitted, "it's more than likely we'll want to spend our nights sleeping on the roof of our houseboat just for the experience."
Bristlehound added, "Especially when passing barge tows in the night leave such wake as can make things interesting in the sleep department." Thankfully, CPAP was not the sort of thing we were on, nor even think about being on.
Once out of the way, a drive to the docks where Bristlehound and Dum-Dum tied up their modest little houseboat--hardly a fancy sort, yet stylishly simplistic for the purpose. Even if it took a few minutes for a freight train to clear the tracks so we could get to the boat, by which time early evening's effects were starting to be obvious. And once loaded, reviewing the inevitable safety procedures for boating in the Mississippi's waters, the call of "Touché awayyyy!" by none other than was the call to cast off and get underway.
Huckleberry Hound couldn't have said it better in observing that "what could feel more interesting than to just spend a couple days on the river living the houseboat life ... even if it means the likes of Boost for breakfast?"
"At any rate, folks," Dum-Dum was quick to note, "Bristlehound and I decided on meal-replacement shakes for breakfast more than anything. Especially when the desire is to get out on the river with as little mess as possible after breakfast."
"Even allowing for recycling," Bristlehound added.
Still, even if the supper was mainly a bag of wholemeal tortilla chips with some salsa in the bargain as we made bivouac for the night on some sandbar on the Wisconsin side of the river. Just be thankful for the deck chairs to provide some sleep, and just hope the trains don't keep you all too awake.
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