It's 7.15am and i'm sat under Coopers Campground patio. The rain hasn't abated since yesterday and is in no rush to stop. My 6ft ark of a tent coped pretty well, the reason for my current wetness is the animal that dared to take shelter in it-me. After more crazy sleeping i awoke at 3am to find i had slid to the bottom of the tent, pushing against the canvas and allowing my sleeping bag to happily drink up water and get soaked. I'm not complaining, this is luckily my first day of continual rain in 65 days, i'm stuck here for now which is not a bad thing. Coopers Landing is a small hidden community in the middle of nowhere. People come here as far away as Columbia to sit by the campfire, eat, sing, go for boat trips and forget about the monotony of normal life. Charlie who works here has cycled most of the US and is a fountain of knowledge and stories. It's a hidden gem. So i'm sat here, coffee in hand, waiting for dry weather. It's not looking good.