Quincy, IL - end

There is often the smell of burnt rice…..a signature of the busy factories around the corner. We often pass through sections of the river where there is brown foam floating around like mini-islands……it does little to prompt us to take a cooling swim. It seems to get worse as we get downstream.

So far no tension amongst us. When we make coffee, change fuel or pack up the upper deck…we all move about in sync, with precision…’tis a beautiful sight:)