3 September 2007 Day Fifteen
Three-Mile
There is no breath of wind and this morning the lake is glass. I’ll paddle the outer islands to Rock. Today is the day that I touch what passes for civilization on this wilderness island: a place where money can be spent and letters mailed. I am wickedly eager for the laundry machine and at the same time hesitant to leave this favorite spot.
Body note: I paddled hard yesterday against the headwind. The pain in my sternum is definitely about paddling and the hips are more sore than usual.
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