We have once again shown no restraint regarding what we are ready to take along in a big-ass boat. I stick my feet in the water and ignore Tory, who's still in a bad mood. I apologize, then think, hell with him. I know the mood will last a while. Yellow-headed blackbirds flit by.
Swallows swoop for insects over our heads.
One beautiful potential campsite after another drift by. One with a gravel bar and a meadowy area under huge trees seems perfect so we pull the boat up. Tory ambles off to take a bath in the river which puts him in a better mood. I put up my tent. I'm dry in twenty minutes in the dry Montana air.