I paddled from Palisade to Aitkin, 30 miles. The day was windy and I had to pull over and wait out the wind a few times when it was so strong that it was pushing me backward against the current. I somehow missed the campsite between the two towns, and then missed the boat landing a little farther on, too. I kept my eyes peeled for an appropriate location to stealth-camp, to no avail. Mud banks on one side, 10 dirt cliffs on the other. The only places where I might be able to pull my boat ashore were spots where cows made their way to the river, trampling everything growing, leaving a muddy mess in their path. But those locations didn’t have anywhere to pitch my tent anyway. I paddled the last hour in the dark, and with no moon to guide me, I tried to use my headlamp to illuminate and avoid logs in the water. The headlamp, which is very strong on land, doesn’t seem to have the same luminescence on the water. It’s like the water just swallows the light. So, paddling at night, which I had never planned to do, was even less easy than I thought it’d be. It coincided, however, with the portion of my podcast in which the children are in the Forbidden Forest (spooky), and a centaur talks about reading the stars (which were bright overhead)…so that was kinda cool. I arrived at my destination around 11pm. Pulled my boat up the ramp, set up camp, and collapsed. Thirty miles is a freaking long way for me.
The next day, my body needed a rest, so I hitched a ride into town with a fisherman, who dropped me off at a Laundromat with wifi (two birds with one stone!). I spent the day working on blog posts (14 uploaded that day!), applying for jobs (three applications in), and cleaning clothes. I walked back to my tent that evening and had a nice talk with my Dad. He inquired whether I was getting enough protein (trying to! I eat 1-2 blocks of tofu each week, canned beans, and peanut butter every day. I haven’t had eggs since Mama Raccoon ate my boiled eggs, but I can’t cook any without a stove anyway, so I’m doing the best I can), and whether I’m losing weight. Yes, I think I probably am. I could afford to lose some weight, so that’s fine, but I don’t want to lose too much weight to quickly, so I promised him I’d eat more. I just don’t feel hungry a lot of the time. Compared to being at home where eating is something I can always do (and often do out of boredom or habit), eating on the river is something that I have to remind myself to do. Skipping meals somehow happens occasionally (something I normally could not imagine), usually when I’m just too tired to do much more than set up my tent and collapse for the evening.
I’ve been texting with Jim Lewis, the man who brought me my contact lenses, about the water that accumulates in my boat by the end of the day. Trying to figure out its entry point. So that’s another worry.
The next day, my body needed a rest, so I hitched a ride into town with a fisherman, who dropped me off at a Laundromat with wifi (two birds with one stone!). I spent the day working on blog posts (14 uploaded that day!), applying for jobs (three applications in), and cleaning clothes. I walked back to my tent that evening and had a nice talk with my Dad. He inquired whether I was getting enough protein (trying to! I eat 1-2 blocks of tofu each week, canned beans, and peanut butter every day. I haven’t had eggs since Mama Raccoon ate my boiled eggs, but I can’t cook any without a stove anyway, so I’m doing the best I can), and whether I’m losing weight. Yes, I think I probably am. I could afford to lose some weight, so that’s fine, but I don’t want to lose too much weight to quickly, so I promised him I’d eat more. I just don’t feel hungry a lot of the time. Compared to being at home where eating is something I can always do (and often do out of boredom or habit), eating on the river is something that I have to remind myself to do. Skipping meals somehow happens occasionally (something I normally could not imagine), usually when I’m just too tired to do much more than set up my tent and collapse for the evening.
I’ve been texting with Jim Lewis, the man who brought me my contact lenses, about the water that accumulates in my boat by the end of the day. Trying to figure out its entry point. So that’s another worry.
Still awed by the long vistas that I have now.
I love the hair-fine texture of this blowing grass
The color and texture of wind in the leaves... I love it.
 No less than 5 junked cars have I seen in the river the past couple days |  Passing by farmland |
Getting silly on the boat for so many hours
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