Day 11 Blog post: Brian Henion

Today we woke up to swarms of mosquitos so fat with our blood they could hardly take off. It's roughly 6 am and the sun has just begun to creep over the trees. We awake to hot oatmeal, leftover burgers, chips, and Max's present of 4 snickers and a handful of jolly ranchers that is to last us the rest of the trip. No one seems too quick this morning  and it  feels as though everyone would easily and gladly sleep more if just given a decent excuse. After a lengthly pack up we meander down to the boats and begin to climb into the chilly morning water babbling by us. The packing process, as with every time packing boats in the water, is very time consuming. Today though this is made more so by our treat of watching the complete metamorphosis of what I believe is called a water nymph into a dragonfly and its first flight out into the world as something born anew. This seems ironic and almost prophetic  as we are about to set off anew. Our next few days we will be utterly alone, cut off from news, our lifeline and supply (Max), and established known camping areas. We are essentially heading into the unknown, harding guesses, and hoping for the best. The morning paddle drags on long and slow. Everyone is silent - even the ones who haven't stopped talking since day one. The exhaustion and solitude are palpable. Everyone seems to have that feeling when you know you have "miles to go before I sleep." After a few water breaks and roughly 12 miles, we pull up to a nice secluded beach on the inside of a long curve in the river. We are blessed with a reprieve from the beating sun and radiant heat. We have a short peaceful lunch. After we restart in the river, we all seem to be refreshed - some as though we have a second wind. The common banter cranks up and you hear the girls singing Disney songs, Tucker singing everything in his head and laughing occasionally in his maniacal way. We continue another 12 miles along a portion of the river that feels the most isolated and undisturbed. The common conversations pop up - from video games to crazy sandwiches, and places people have been or wish to go. In my humble opinion, Tucker's contribution: Monte Cristo takes the cake. We end the paddle shortly after the Highway 15 bridge over the Pee Dee. Everyone is sweating buckets, so we take a quick dip - a pleasure we have foregone until now. Then yet another oddity... we are ahead of schedule. So we are given a quick briefing on the remainder of the day. If all holds to be true, we may be in bed early. A godsend in my opinion. We will end the day as we began: muscles shredded, backs aching, and so stinks, smelly, and filthy it almost pointless to make our little attempts to freshmen ourselves.