Today's trip down stream past my childhood farm is best told in pictures. We put our kayaks in at Jerry and Debbie Thompson's beautiful home ("next-door" neighbors to the home place where I grew up). Here the river is most beautiful---though I may be a bit biased. It's the span of water I knew so well a half century ago. Trees across the river called for some quick maneuvering and lying flat in the kayak at one point, but it made the trek even more interesting. We stopped along the way to visit cousin Marie Stellrecht Bassett. (My maiden name is Stellrecht, a name more common than Smith in these parts.) The river pours into Rice Lake, and after being pushed by the wind half way across the lake we were back on the river again, and in less than three hours were at Kenowski Bridge where we had left our car this morning.
