I passed through two locks , Davenport and the others of the Quad Cities. The Davenport water front looked nice but I’m trying to make miles and a storm is coming.
In midafternoon the clouds were turning black in the northwest and wind picked up. I was forced to the Illinois shore by barge traffic moving back and forth across the river and had no real place to land. The wind increased and the storm came fast. I decide to make a dash to a narrow island and take cover on the leeward side. (Side sheltered from wind.) The sky was black and the wind roared as I sat in the boat nuzzled against the bank. The trees bent towards me and I think what if one of those big trees decide to fall over now. I’d be squished like a bug and know one would find me for days.
The drama lasts fifteen minutes and by days end I’m on a high beach with a warm sunset.