We walked the portage to Swallow once again, ninety seconds in the canoe, & then the portage into Pillsbery. Just across from the portage was a massive eagle's nest, one of its inhabitants lazing in circles acros the sky. We rode a gentle easterly & moved on to Henson, where the wind started to blow in earnest. We were passed by a pair of guys actually paddling & traded pleasantries that would become well worth the words of greeting.

Once we hit the portage into Omega the wind was howling at our backs. A few raindrops splattered. Time to camp; & all that drifting with the wind, should have been making time! The southernmost campsite was full, so we paddled into a bay, figuring it empty - it wasn't. We turned & waded back into a wind gusting easily past 25MPH & finally rounded a point & drifted east, resting. Two canoes & a kayak passed us, & we figured the last campsite would be taken - 'cause one of them said it was. We resigned ourselves to pushing on to Kiskadinna.

However, turned out the campsite was occupied by the two fellers we'd passed earlier, who'd mentioned they were camped on Gaskin. We asked if they'd be there long, they owned they wouldn't, & we hung out for fifteen until they pushed on. Tents went up in a hurry & beat the rain by about five minutes.

It paused for a bit in the evening, long enough for us to catch a few decent pike, then the rain started in earnest. The result is a sundown bedtime.