Goldfield Creek, AL between Florence and Huntsville.

The landscape is evolving. We are in hardwood forest. The alligators and dolphins have been traded for bass & water moccasins. There is a mist that
lies heavy over the water every morning. Very nice riverfront houses are the norm rather then the exception. This anchorage we slept to the song of
frogs with a deeper heavier voice and the turkeys this morning are disputing ones territorial imperative.

I miss not owning Paradise Flatts. I do not miss being there yet. I will one day.

The fear of traveling by boat and the awesome weight of the attendant responsibility is starting to wan.

We zipped through the largest American lock this side of the Columbia River yesterday at Wilson dam, about 94'. The event, while not commonplace yet,
registered more as a slow down then thrilling since we waited for four hours to get through. The thrill was our recognition that we are getting competent at doing the locks.

The tows are bigger on the Tennessee. It is not uncommon to see tows three wide and five long. Often they have to be broken and locked through in two
parts.

Yesterday a cold front passed through and cooled everything down to just right after the hottest day we have had on the boat.

We hope to catch up with my colleague, Will Stoner in Huntsville tonight. We shared way to many flooring inspection classes together. Will and his
wife are special people. It will be nice to introduce them to Skinwalker.

Guess I better go to the bow and fend off this 12' by 18" log that is gently making its way down the creek at my anchor chain.

Musings from the pilothouse,

Capt'n Lynnie and Skinwalker