The sun has gone down, and the world is black in front of me. If I could see my hands, they’d be shaking.

There is no moonlight, no encouraging twinkle of stars – just the canopy of trees that I know must be somewhere above, and the canoe rocking gently beneath me.

We are so close to catching up to our group, who started out a day before we did – but in spite of our best efforts, we can’t outpace the sunset. Now, in the dead of night, we shine our lights along the river’s edge. Through the faint outlines of trees, we find a spot to set up camp. We wade carefully over slippery rocks with a limited field of vision, one uncertain step at a time.