While the wildlife remained mostly hidden, the sounds were as dramatic and varied as anything we had ever heard. Often we would rest at the oars and just drift along, spellbound by the shrieks, whistles, croaks, songs, whirs, clicks, and other unidentifiable noises emanating out of the forest canopy and the undergrowth below. A bird list for the refuge names an astounding 206 species that have been spotted here. Add reptiles, amphibians, insects, mammals to the bird population and the sound effects were absolutely marvelous.

We floated on, baking under clear skies. Doug is even more susceptible to skin damage from sunlight than I am, so we were both covered head to toe. We wore gloves on our hands and swathed our faces and necks in bandanas. Besides gazing around at the expansive views, there was little to do but make miles. We spelled each other regularly, keeping the oars going nearly constantly. To speed us on our way, we looked constantly for the thalweg, that magic spot in the river where the deepest and strongest current flows. Even a half or quarter mile per hour, over the course of a long day, makes a difference. Of course, in a wide, slow river with an enormous silt load, just staying off mid-stream sandbars can be a challenge. The river was so silty even the tops of the oar blades were only visible for about an inch below the surface.