A Thoreau Accounting

October 1

The American River felt harshly judged and called me back into her bosom for a second chance.  I plunged toward her on the Cardiac Bypass Trail, which only kills the poor saps trying to pick their way out of the steep gorge.  Once gaining a parallel course I swerved with the river on the overhanging bluffs.
I stopped at a tributary creek to fill up on the life sustaining fluid less long-winded types refer to as water.  A feeling of tranquility overcame me.  These emotions appear to coincide with proximity to water.  Perhaps I am experiencing a primal instinct, a survival need met, a sense of safety bringing comfort and happiness.
My animal friends seemed to agree with this assessment. Deer, vultures, ducks, turtles, squirrels, and egrets were abundant.  I even had my first confirmed rattler sighting, a Northern Pacific slowly slithering across the Pony Express Trail and down toward the water.  The serpent paid me absolutely no mind even though I only stood a few feet away.  
By late afternoon the river ceased rolling and so did I.  We both had reached Folsom Lake, where a dam corrals the American, allowing her to be utilized by thousands of nearby residents and businesses.  I rested a few hundred yards from shore, mind and body at ease.  I see why Thoreau chose to live next to a pond.

17 miles/3910 total miles