After waking up in Pikes Peak campground, Peter and I packed up his blue Chevy Colorado and drove around the corner to a lookout area from atop the Iowa Bluffs. As we peered out from the stone outcropping, the Mississippi River Valley stretched the horizon. A blue sky and gorgeous sun greeted us. Across the water on the opposite shore Wisconsin's namesake river meandered into the Miss, draining much of the States watershed into the valley. Upriver we could see Praire Du Chien, WI. Down river the trees and winding path of the Miss looked inviting. 
After talking and snapping a few photos we walked back to the truck and descended down the bluffs back to the valley floor.

We made a stop at Huckleberry's family restaurant for breakfast. A fitting name for a restaurant on the banks of the Mississippi. After grub and a few more stops along the river the two of us drove back upstream toward where Peter had originally picked me up. We unloaded all the gear from the truck, and with Petes help repacked the boat. With that Peter headed out with plans of driving south to Illinois for the weekend.

As Peter left a duck hunter pulled into the public boat ramp. His flat bottom John boat was rigged up as a floating blind, with fake weeds and cattails covering the entirety and a chocolate lab perched on the bow. As he got off his boat we began talking as he asked about my trip. Almost immediately, the gentlemen asked if I had had lunch yet. I told him of the late breakfast Peter and I had had, but he won me over with the words "pot roast".

As he motored away from the ramp he yelled "If you're hungry, come on by my place. It's just a few houses down. You'll see my boat"

After taking a few more minutes to configure my gear, I pushed off of the shore and into the back channel, not sure if I should stop for grub or roll on and make miles. About 5 minutes later, the same fella walked onto his porch as I floated by.

"Pot roast here if you want it!"

That was all I needed to hear. I paddled over and tied up my boat to a tree on his property. The houses that lined this portion of the river were all unique in a way that I had never seen before. Each house was built on massive stilts ranging anywhere from 15-30 feet to help mitigate flood damage.

I walked up the wooden stairs to the porch built out over the stilts. The fellow introduced himself as Jeff, and was happy to put some delicious leftover pot roast on my plate. In his own words, Jeff was a river rat who'd been coming to the Mississippi his entire life. His place was filled with an impressive array of fish, deer and birds all taken from the river and surrounding area. He had recently built the place after tearing down his last cabin following a flood that left 15 inches of standing water throughout the house (he raised the stilts a bit this time too).

After talking hunting, fishing and travel I refilled on water and got back to the river.

The clear, sunny day made for beautiful paddling weather. I worked my way past the confluence of the Wisconsin and set up camp on a flat, grassy point of an island. With the Illinois duck opener set for tomorrow morning I figured waking up to gunshots would be a good possibility, especially considering the fact that I was in prime waterfowl habitat.

Another solid day on the Miss filled with the generosity of strangers and old friends. Life is good on the water.