Once again, another great day on the river. Once again, people are good.
I woke up this morning to some commotion at the small pubic boat ramp I was camped at. The sound of metal scraping against concrete alerted me that it was time to get moving. After packing up my sleeping bag, pad and clothes in the tent, I got up and out to meet two older gentlemen smoking and chewing on long cigars at 7am.
While talking with the fellas I learned that they were out this morning to harvest wild rice. The banks of the river had been filled with the wetland plant since I put in at Lake Itasca. I didn't realize until now that it was indeed wild rice I had been fighting for much of the trip so far. I asked the guys about the process of harvesting and curing the rice, and I'll be damned, it's quite the undertaking.
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