After two hours at the wheel, the driver is frazzled. The Mississippi River might be known as 'Old Man River,' but this senior citizen has been kicking butt and taking names. All day long the Hurricane SunDeck 260, powered by twin Honda BF150 outboards, has been slaloming back and forth across the paper-bag-brown water dodging huge barges and what the crew calls 'Mississippi toothpicks,' which are telephone pole-like logs that float inconspicuously amidst the other debris.

The good news is that the SunDeck 260 aces the agility test, and the Hondas pass the lower-unit durability test. The bad news is that the expedition will turn into an unplanned night on the river with the rain coming down and the temperature dropping.

When the crew of four adventurers, Phil Foss, Peter Kozak, Mike McRae and the author, shoves off in Alton, Illinois, to begin their 1,000-mile deckboat trek to Sunrise Marine in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, it's a balmy 70 degrees; a pleasant aberration for late March. Another surprise is that the 260's console, along with the under-seat storage, is large enough to accommodate the mountain of luggage and supplies taken on the trip.

As is usually the case, last-minute details cause the departure to be a bit delayed, but with 300 hp on the transom giving the SunDeck a top speed of nearly 45 mph, the plan is to make up some time by running hard to get off the Mississippi and into the Ohio River before dark. No dice. Not only does the debris limit the speed, but the weather is crazy. One minute the sun is shining and the wind is calm, and the next the sky's overcast and the wind is howling ' creating confused and violent wave patterns. The one and only thing that's constant is the dropping temperature, which is now in the 50s.

With darkness starting to approach, the underachieving town of Cape Girardeau (which the crew pronounces with a mocking French accent) comes into view on the starboard side that has NO place to dock on the Mississippi River. So instead of a hotel bed and hot meal, it will be four guys 'sleeping' on a deckboat cockpit on a very swollen Mississippi with nocturnal barge traffic lumbering by. Luckily, the Hurricane has a full camper enclosure for the stern half of the boat, but it would have probably been best to put it up before the rain started to come down, because everything and everyone are already soaking wet.

Fortunately, a small tributary is spotted on the port side, which gives the Hurricane a place to moor out of the shipping channel. The water in the 50-yard-wide creek is flowing swiftly, but there's a small cove out of the current that should make a good anchorage. Heading to the anchor locker, Foss drops the hook, and after several tries in the swirling eddies, gets it to stick and ties off the line on the pop-up bow cleat. A huge splash gets everyone's attention and in the failing light, a huge, irate beaver swims by, swatting its tail on the surface. Despite the prospect of peanut butter sandwiches for dinner, lack of beer on board (thanks to Alton's blue laws), and the present climatic conditions, the mood is actually festive. Foss pulls out his guitar, and they take turns serenading the angry beaver, which they speculate is probably gnawing right through their anchor line
at this very moment.

One lucky passenger is chosen to bunk in the Hurricane 260's one-person berth located in the console. The presence of the luggage and supplies makes it a cozy fit, but at least it's dry. The seemingly ordinary console compartment is actually a well-equipped mini-cabin with a sink complete with running water, vanity, and can be outfitted with a vacuum flush head. The cold, damp air makes sleeping impossible, and after tossing and turning all night, you hear someone ask what time it is ' certain that it's almost morning ' and when the answer comes, 'It's one-thirty,' a collective groan registers the disbelief. Faintly you hear a noise ... and it happens to sound just like a beaver laughing.

At first light, spirits soar as the SunDeck 260 gets underway. It's still chilly, so they decide to leave the camper enclosure deployed, yet it's not certain how fast they can go. As it turns out, the stout frame permits running at virtually any speed and greatly increases the comfort level. In short order, the Hurricane makes a left turn into the Ohio River and immediately conditions improve. Although traveling upriver now, the current is weaker, debris is vastly reduced, and although the barge traffic is heavier, it poses no problem due to the 26-foot SunDeck's maneuverability. Of greater concern is the amount of gas left in the 135-gallon tank. The digital gas gauge is hovering around the last indicator bar, which is way less fuel than anticipated. But coming up on the city of Paducah, Kentucky, renders it a moot point, thanks to the presence of the Big E Marina shown on the cruising Bible for this segment of the trip: Quimby's Cruising Guide. It should be right here ... somewhere ... where the heck is it? Backtracking, they still can't find it, so they ask a boater launching at the public ramp. 'Big E Marina? It got wiped out,' he answers without elaboration. The next fuel stop is 25 miles away, and while nervously eyeing the gas gauge, they begin to enter the Tennessee River and flog on.

As Kentucky Dam comes into view, a collective sigh of relief comes; knowing that in just a few minutes the tank will be full and everyone will be holding a cup of steaming-hot coffee. Foss calls the lockmaster and requests lockage into Kentucky Lake, which is basically a wide spot on the Tennessee River. After a pause, he answers, 'Captain, it's going to be about 12 hours before I can get you through, we have a commercial tow.' Although everyone keeps a poker face and remarkably no one says a very bad word, you can actually hear the sound of crests falling. While waiting, they crank up the four-speaker Clarion Marine CD stereo and listen to some blues (how appropriate). After an hour, the lockmaster's voice comes over the radio and says, 'I might be able to 'squeeze' you in.' At that point, they enter the 90-percent empty lock that only has one small barge in it ' an obvious example of lockmaster humor.

On the other side of the lock is Kentucky Dam Marina, where the crew is greeted by Dockmaster Glendal Bray. After pumping the fuel, it's discovered that there were 50 gallons of fuel left in the tank, which comes very close to pre-trip estimates. Despite being loaded to the gills and pushing hard, the Honda-powered Hurricane 260 delivers better than two miles per gallon (mpg) on the first leg. Later tests by Honda reveal that without the mountain of gear and passenger load, the SunDeck gets better than three mpg ' even at 4500 rpm. In need of a hot meal and vital supplies (beer), Bray generously allows the crew to borrow a courtesy van to drive into Paducah.

Continuing up the 184-mile-long Kentucky Lake, which is the largest manmade lake in the eastern United States, the benign conditions and beautiful scenery is deeply relaxing. Halfway through the lake, the Hurricane takes a left turn into Pebble Isle Marina, and the owner, once again, loans out their courtesy van ' this time to keep overnight to find accommodations in New Johnsonville, Tennessee. The crew really can't get over the hospitality (and lack of paperwork) when it comes to accommodating cruisers with wheels.

The next morning it's an early start, and after four hours of easy cruising, the SunDeck passes the historic Civil War battlefield site at Shiloh before reaching Pickwick Lock and Dam. There's a commercial tow finishing up, so it's a good time to make lunch. A clever feature of the 260 is the flip-up table in the bow with cupholders that's handy for sandwich construction. It's also a perfect place for a small TV, thanks to the adjacent 12-volt plug. For the cockpit passengers, the refreshment center is ideal for beverage assembly, due to the recessed 25-quart cooler, along with the wet bar, two-liter bottle holder as well as a removable ice bucket. After lunch there's even time to take a short nap in the ultra-comfortable starboard bow lounge seat. In short order, the green light comes on, and the Hurricane enters the lock.

From here the next phase of the trip occurs when the 260 reaches the Tenn-Tom Waterway, a manmade channel built in 1982 that connects the Tennessee River to the Tombigbee River and gives recreational boaters a viable alternative to the treacherous Lower Mississippi. Over the next two days, 12 more identical locks will be transited, dropping the Hurricane more than 400 feet as the path leads to the Gulf of Mexico, according to Fred Myers' excellent reference book, 'The Tenn Tom Nitty-Gritty Cruise Guide.' After overnighting in New Site, Mississippi, which is 412 miles to the Gulf, the SunDeck 260 continues to be absorbed into the Deep South, stopping after a long-day's run in Demopolis, Alabama.

The final day is the most ambitious yet as they'll be attempting to cover more than 300 miles. To make a marathon run like this you had better have reliable engines that don't mind being run nearly full-throttle. The Hondas ' with their VTEC system that thrives at high RPM ' never complain and don't even need additional oil on the whole trip. You had also better have a comfortable boat, and the SunDeck 260 achieves that goal by providing excellent seating made of firm foam where you need support and softer foam for comfort. The helm design is ergonomically designed to allow long stints at the wheel with features like an adjustable helm seat and tilt steering to provide everyone with a comfortable position, along with a highly effective wrap-around windshield. The twin helm buckets have flip-up bolsters and are ideal for long trips like this that require both a navigator and driver.

The hull gets a thorough workout when the SunDeck 260 arrives at Mobile Bay at sunset and is greeted by steep, three-foot head seas. With the canvas still up, the crew stays dry as the Hurricane slashes its way across the open bay leading to the Gulf of Mexico. Running the last 100 miles at night is certainly no picnic, but at the end of the road awaits a steak dinner, a warm bed and the memories of a real adventure.