For all intents and purposes, I was hungover on the morning of day three, completely exhausted from the dehydrated, adrenaline filled, all out fishing of day two. I sat in the raft for some time listening to the morning chorus, missing out on what I soon realized was a nice streamer window. My body and mind slowly adjusted to the amount of water I consumed and I summoned the energy to start moving.
This was the day I started to mellow out a bit. I no longer felt like I had to cover every inch of water and instead, became part of the ebb and flow of the river. I settled into a daily routine that involved copious shade filled breaks, swinging sessions, and a lot of water to prevent dehydration in the sun.
A few days prior, I planned a rendezvous with my sister for my first resupply. Would she be there at our scheduled time? Would I make it there? Did my Dad tell her that I needed shoes? Would work mark the end of the excursion? These were the thoughts on my mind as I pulled up the anchor and began drifting further downriver...