I wasn't able to get much shut eye through the night due to a litany of events caused by rising water levels. By the time morning rolled around I had a few hours of on and off again dozing under my belt.

By morning I laid in the tent and tried my best to catch up on some writing. Halfway through finishing a journal entry I heard the sound of small rolling waves uncomfortably close to tent. I opened up the vestibule to see that once again, the water had nearly surrounded my shelter. At a moments notice I sprung into action, packing up the tent and all my gear, racing against the clock before the water completely engulfed the sand bar I was camping on. Less than 12 hours prior the sand bar occupied the space of about half a football field.

I got the boat loaded and pushed off, paddling over the area that only last night I had pitched my tent on. As the water forced my hand, I left camp earlier than normal, and without time to make breakfast.

Another day of thick cloud cover and mist did its best to keep my spirits down. Still damp from the night I forcefully tried to enjoy the morning.

By early afternoon a fair headwind had picked up causing small breaking waves to roll on and underneath the boat. The section of river I was on didn't hold much in the way of islands or wind breaks, so the only option was to continue through the wind.

In the late afternoon the wind died down and I was able to enjoy the day. A strong current helped carry me quicker than anticipated.

Not wanting to repeat the same mistake as last night, I set up camp atop a steep sand bank roughly 15 feet high, carrying all my gear and even my canoe to the top.

After setting up camp and settling into the tent I checked my phone and saw that I had received a message. Turns out, Tim P. had messaged me, offering to put me up for the evening when I got to mile marker 417. Between the rain, wind and clouds I would have loved nothing more, but as my luck would have it, I had unknowingly camped just upriver from their house, at mile marker 420. A swing and a miss.

I went to bed hoping for sun in the morning. Long day punctuated by missing out on a warm bed. What's worse is that with strong binoculars I'm sure I could see that warm bed across the river.

Something's aren't meant to be. No big deal, move on. Hoping and planning for a great day tomorrow.