13 Miles. Slept in hay field. Found one dollar. Then found four hundred more. Saw a dead owl, moved it unceremoniously after unsuccessfully trying to salvage a feather. Gonna be sore tomorrow. But feel good.

The inaugural sleeping spot chosen, while sheltered from sight, was directly under an oak tree shedding sizeable acorns. They smacked the tent with a loud "thwap", jangling the nerves. Only received two direct blows. Stove worked well.