There were a couple of state-funded, semi-developed camps along the stretch of river we ran. Each had bathrooms and a handful of screened-in shelters that could be reserved. They looked clean and well-cared for with friendly volunteer hosts. Not really our thing, though. We poked around, then hopped back on the river to search out a lonely beach somewhere in the settling afternoon light. (Sony Point and Shoot)
Steve throws in a fishing line for a couple of minutes before we settle back in to paddling. Alas, the $17 fishing license would come to naught. He got not so much as a nibble in three days.
We set up camp the first night on a sandbar a mile or so downstream from Woods Ferry. While the moon was just past new, the stars were out in brilliant form. And with the stars came the katydids and the frogs. The sound rivaled any orchestra. It was enormous and soothing. Best night's sleep I've had in ages. Alas, the other thing that our first night's campsite had was sand fleas. There's a picture of my feet at the end of the gallery. I fully expect to be itching and scratching for the next couple of weeks. I must've gotten 60 or 80 bites. (Nikon D810)