Bam.  Drove to Raystown.  Six hours in the car, but there’s a certain cachet to driving a 6-speed Civic Si with a 13 foot kayak and an Kona Primo Dawg on top.  People lean out their cars and cheer.  Strangers will stop and watch you unlock your car.  Happy tattooed men will put up their thumbs and shout ‘boo-ya.’  I took it in stride, but it is balm to the soul.

Tuesday.  Arrive late.  Pitch tent.  It is no-where flat.  Not even adjacent sites are flat.  In a fit of genius, I’d pitched a camp cot in the car.  It nestled there alongside a cotton blanket, sleeping bag, and ground pads.  Bam!  I put the cot in the tent (tight fit) and used the ground pads to make it roughly level. Genius!

Campsite 51.  Susquehannock.  Seven Points Campground. 

Kayak in the water for an hour and I watched the sun set.  Peace.  I read in the dark for an hour waiting for the mosquitoes to arrive, but it never happened.  I moved to the tent to test out the ‘leveling.’  Still not level, but the sides of the cot kept me in.  I lasted about three minutes before the book hit the ground.

Tomorrow:  more kayak.  bike.  more peace.