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)
I hate mornings. This is staring up at the top of my tent, my shirt draped over it to (hopefully) dry during the night, I'm pondering ways to avoid getting up for a little longer. (Nikon D810)