On December 2, 1875, Nathaniel Holmes Bishop launched his sneakbox, CENTENNIAL REPUBLIC, on the Monongahela River and rowed along the south shore of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, into the headwaters of the Ohio River. On November 9, 1985, I launched my sneakbox, LUNA, on the Allegheny River and rowed along Pittsburgh’s north shore to the confluence with the Monongahela, that same Mile 0 of the Ohio. Bishop spent the next four months traveling 2,600 miles to reach Cedar Key on Florida’s Gulf Coast. I’d follow the route he detailed in his book, Four Months in a Sneak Box. This illustration from Four Months in a Sneak Box convinced me to get on the Ohio River a month earlier in the year than Nathaniel Bishop had so I could avoid getting blocked by ice.
from "Four Months in a Sneak Box" by Nathaniel Holmes Bishop, 1879
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Chris – this is the second time I’ve read of your adventure recreating Bishop’s historic journey. I’d forgotten just how miserable the conditions were on the Ohio, and yet you had the will to take the time and make the effort to stage these terrific photos of your circumstances. The closest I’ve come to this kind of solo endurance venture is a cross-country bike ride, but I chose an easy route from east to west with the sun and wind at my back during early autumn, and a cheap motel with a hot shower at the end of each day’s run. How on earth did you stay motivated to keep going?
I agree, very miserable. Instructive though on what to avoid.
Really a great story, Chris. I could smell the mud, feel the wet cold and also the exhaustion and loneliness of such a voyage. It reminds me of my trips at Allier and Loire in my youth (1990).
Your story is very reminiscent of Brinker Buck’s “Life on the Mississippi.” He built (or had built) a flatboat of about 30′ length with a good-sized deck house and followed pretty much the same route you did, all the way to New Orleans. He always had a crew of two or three people, but personnel shifted in and out as he went on.
He travelled in summer, and of course had the capacious cabin to shelter in. He mounted a good-sized outboard engine for maneuvering as well as propulsion, and surprisingly enough, never seemed to have the engine conk out at critical moments. His main issue was dodging barges and tow boats. Though he had been warned that currents on the river would prove to be his undoing (i.e. “deadly”), he found them quite easy to deal with, thanks to the outboard. Like you, he came across many friendly and helpful people along the way, and was often invited to moor overnight at marinas and state parks.
What an experience, thanks for sharing. This line, emblematically bleak, has stayed with me: “I was again tired to the point where I would stand for long spells trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing.”
A stinkin’ fine tale, Chris. Grand foundation for a bit more comfort later in life.
Wow! what a great adventure, so perfectly captured in your photos and writing… I can’t wait to read more!
I take my hat off to you Chris. I would have given up so many times!
A fine tale, Chris, wonderfully told.
Great adventure, but I’m shivering as I read it. Nicely told!
What Richard Kuttler said:
“Wow! what a great adventure, so perfectly captured in your photos and writing… I can’t wait to read more!”
Great story, Chris; it’s the second time I read it. The mud sounded miserable, reminding me of several places we stopped along a trip down the Yukon, which I was happy to see didn’t have the trash floating in it like the Ohio. I was interested to read about the Hubbards. Shantyboat was one of the first “cruising” books I can remember reading–two or three times over the years– at my Grandparents’ house. They lived next door to Harlan’s brother, in New Rochelle, NY. whom I met a few times as a little kid. Small world. I can’t wait to read the next installments.
I grew up in Pittsburgh in the 40 and 50’s. I spent many hours on the Allegheny and Mon and the Ohio only as far as Wheeling. We used to joke it was impossible to drown in the Mon because you would dissolve first from the pickle acid pumped out of all the mills. The Allegheny wasn’t as industrial but it was full of brown pike and Allegheny white fish. For you non-river rats these weren’t actual fish but you’ll have to use your imagination
What an adventure. The story has motivated me to try to find a similiar one. I’m 79 years of age now so it will have to toned down a bit, but thats ok. Your adventrue is inspirational.
I plan on doing the Rideau canal system this coming spring. Not sure what kind of boat yet.