Jack and Carol's Epic Journey: Buffalo Bill and Lock Adventure

Had another good night’s sleep Wednesday night at the Fisherman’s Corner campground. We got up, did some billpaying and book writing, and then headed off for a little sightseeing. Our first destination was the boyhood home of Buffalo Bill Cody, across the Mississippi in Iowa. After crossing the bridge, we took the scenic drive along the river and went through the little village of LeClaire, which is getting ready to celebrate a 3-day festival called “Tug Fest.” It’s a quaint little town and fortunately we were early enough in the day to avoid the Tug Fest crowds, although their riverfront road is blocked off for booths and some carnival rides. We didn’t have a clue about Tug Fest but were later informed that it’s a 3-day festival celebrating a tug-of-war ACROSS THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER! Yes, tug of war teams from LeClaire, IA and their rivals across the river in Port Byron, IL compete by pulling on a 2700-foot, 680-pound rope stretched all the way across the Mississippi! Sounds like something to see, but since they’re calling for 30,000 to 40,000 people to descend on this place to see it, we think it’s a good thing we’re leaving tomorrow morning. We’re still allergic to crowds.

We got caught in a thunderstorm with spectacular lightning displays on the way to Buffalo Bill’s house, but it didn’t last long. The house was a neat restoration/preservation of an 1840s stone farmhouse with a Victorian frame addition. Buffalo Bill only lived here for a few years, from about age 1 to 6. The rooms are decorated with antiques from two periods—the “pioneer” times around 1840 and early Victorian times—sort of like Olde Surber Station, where we live. We were the only ones visiting, and we wandered around ogling all the old stuff. There were also two bison in a field next to the house. And they had the best, cleanest pit toilet we’ve ever had the privilege of using!

Where Buffalo Bill Cody grew up. Can you see the rain?

Some details about the home.

After that, we found some good “homemade” donuts at Casey General Store and headed on down the road toward Lock and Dam #14. This is the same lock and dam we visited the day before from our campground, but we wanted to see it from the Iowa side, which has the actual locks. We were hoping to see some barges get locked through, and we were in luck. A towboat pushing 15 barges was just entering the lock and we got to see and photograph the whole thing. It seems weird that these vessels are called “towboats” and the massive raft of barges is called a “tow” since they’re being pushed, not towed. According to Wikipedia, this stems from steamboat days when the old steamboats would tow wooden barges alongside to earn extra revenue, and the name stuck.

Towboat and barges in the lock

We learned that Lock and Dam #14 was constructed in the 1930s and is on the National Register of Historic Places. It can only handle a 600-foot tow but today’s towboats can push up to 15 barges lashed together with steel cables, which is about twice as long as the lock can handle. So they have to break the raft of barges apart and do half at a time through the lock—quite the time-consuming ordeal. It took about 2 hours for the whole procedure. “Our” tow belonged to the Bunge company, a huge international ag/food corporation with its own barge fleet. These barges all held corn (we were told by a lock employee), going down river to St. Louis.

The Thomas K Towboat out of St. Louis.

We met a young towboater named Josh who is working on this tow, and we discussed how most people in this country have no idea what his job is like, or that jobs like his even exist. Yet these boatmen perform a crucial service by transporting grains and lots of other commodities from America’s heartland to markets both domestic and global. Josh works 30 days straight, living on the towboat, and then gets 15 days off. Watching Josh and the other towboaters work this tow through the lock was impressive—it’s physically demanding and dangerous work. Hats off to them, and to the skillful pilot of the towboat, who had to do some serious maneuvering to get both of the barge rafts safely through the lock and then execute an immediate left turn to keep the whole massive thing in the channel. Wow! Talking to a couple of the lock employees, they are obviously proud of the service they perform. One told me that this 15-barge tow carries as much as about 1,000 semi-trucks or 200 railway cars and it’s MUCH more fuel-efficient and cheaper than either of those alternatives. [Jack comment--Finally, here's a way to get the hated 18-wheelers off the interstate highways.]

After watching the tow disappear around the bend, we headed back to our campsite. We had purchased some firewood and tonight was our designated campfire night. Jack finally got the fire going after we sacrificed a roll of paper towels for kindling and we cooked our hot dogs over the fire. Yum. Just the way Jack likes them! (Except Carol only brought Gulden mustard instead of the plain yellow kind he prefers.)