A day of rest ends with a night of disco

Let me get this out of the way right up front – the phrase “a night of disco” is a mild exaggeration meant to grab your attention or what some might call clickbait but it is true because the night, indeed, included disco. After driving over 3,000 miles in five days, I set aside a day in Saint Paul as a day of rest and recuperation and an opportunity to catch up on some writing. Everything you’ve read to date and likely will read subsequently should be considered retrospective rather than contemporaneous.

As I noted at the end of my previous post, I pulled into Saint Paul about 20:00. Liz, the innkeeper, was out at her book club but we had been in touch earlier in the day when I realized I wouldn’t be able to check in during her normal 15:00 to 18:00 window. She told me where I’d find my keys and a welcoming note. The Covington Inn may be one of the more unique places I stay on this journey. It is literally on the river.

Wednesday night I met Hugh D and his wife Doreen. (Hugh gave me a business card making remembering his name easy.) They were traveling with Hugh’s brother and sister-in-law Bill and Nadine (whose names I surreptitiously wrote on Hugh’s card). I talked with Hugh more than anyone else in the group though Nadine did find a book on the boat that had essays about life along the Mississippi that she shared with me.

Hugh and Nadine have taken in three wild cats so we shared some cat stories. Of course, my cat Zicomo, is such a special, wonderfully behaved cat that I didn’t really have any great adventures to share in that arena. Hugh, who is a retired Presbyterian minister, also blogs about cats, religion, and politics. A brief peek at his blog leaves the impression that Hugh is a bit of a liberal or at least a conservative in the true sense of the word – that is, one who believes in conservation. All of the “political” entries I saw had to do with climate change and the need to act to try to slow humanity’s contribution to it.

I spent Thursday on the boat sorting pictures and writing. Later in the afternoon two new couples arrived (the two couples had left early in the morning). We introduced ourselves and I promptly forgot everyone’s name though I’d pick most of them up after dinner when we’d sit on the deck and chat into the evening. (One couple was Steve and Cathy from near Chicago The other was Jeff B and his wife who are transplanted upstate New Yorkers living in Salt Lake City. I remember Steve and Cathy because their names were repeated often through the night. Jeff I spoke with at length and I apologize to Missus B whose name I have forgotten.)

Back to them in a moment. Liz had made such a huge and delicious breakfast that I never felt the need to break for lunch. So after my day on the boat, I went to the Great Waters Brewing Company for dinner and had my first taste of walleye which is Minnesota’s state fish. It’s a mild white fish and it was fine. To accompany it, I had their Golden Prairie Blonde Ale. Once again, it was more bitter than fruity and, being the beer wimp that I am, I wasn’t thrilled by my choice but it wasn’t an one awful, either.

As I was leaving for dinner, Liz, and some of her friends and family who had dropped by to celebrate her brother’s birthday, suggested I walk to nearby Rice Park where they have free concerts and dancing on Thursday nights throughout the summer. This particular night was disco night. The cover band performing all the hits of the era was called Boogie Wonderland. After listening to three or four songs and picking up my jaw from my gape mouthed staring at the Tony Manero wannabe dressed in all white but who had precisely one dance move, I returned to the boat knowing it was the only way for me to retain whatever shreds of sanity and dignity remained.

I went out on the deck and spent the evening chatting – mostly with Jeff. For the second time in as many days at the Covington Inn, I was surprised to encounter someone with relatively progressive politics. I found it particularly surprising given his state of residence. Perhaps he’s more centrist than progressive. He seemed fiscally conservative but definitely socially moderate to liberal. He descried Utah’s very conservative congressional delegation.

That’s a lot of words about very little substance. Tomorrow should be better as I continue the journey south. My day’s planned end point – La Crosse, Wisconsin, is only about 150 miles south – though probably a longer drive as I follow the river.