Today was the day we were all waiting for! After months of packing and planning, days of flying, lancha-ing (boat riding) and, finally, hiking, we made our way to the Samiria River, hastily unloaded our gear into three dugout canoes, and set off.

For the next two weeks (after which we'll temporarily reunite with the Maranon River), the flooded Amazon will be our home: its plants, animals and people our friends (hopefully), and our fortunes intimately tied to the river's changing character.

We arrived in the town of Lagunas last night after almost 50 consecutive hours on the river barge. I'll think back fondly on the lancha ride, but my head is thanking me for alighting -- more like my bruised cranium is thanking me, after being smacked repeatedly on several metal pipes, door frames and even a parrot. I'm not complaining; it's all part of the fun for any person who travels in a country where he is routinely regarded as a giant.

We were immediately greeted by Warren, the sixth and final member of our team. Warren works out of Lagunas as a park guide and also volunteers some of his time doing work for the park. He is rumored to be a chef of great stature, especially skilled in the preparation of fried bananas and fish.

After purchasing some dugout canoes, paddles and a few last minute food items (more salt, onions, and cumin, mmm), the just-assembled full Project Peru team hiked east out of Lagunas for six miles, emerging at the village of Santa Rosa: our put-in point on the Samiria River.

Most of the Amazon River and its tributaries that we've seen so far have been completely saturated with silt -- so brown, in fact, that it has been impossible to see more than an inch or two below the river's surface. This is a normal part of the the flooding process: every year, the Amazon rises and overflows its banks, carrying away millions of tons of dirt, trees and anything else in its path.

When we finally encountered the Samiria River today, we didn't see the familiar coffee-with-creme brown water but a much clearer variety! Can you figure out why this is? It certainly is still flooded here, but the Samiria River is also much smaller than any of the other rivers we've seen so far on this learning adventure. Any ideas?

At any rate, after checking in with the local park ranger, and paying the men whose horse-drawn carts we hired to carry some of our stuff to Santa Rosa, we loaded our 22 bags of equipment into three dugout canoes and tentatively began wobbling and drifting our way down the river.

The headwaters of the Samiria River is very narrow and curvy. We were only able to canoe eight miles today, but the experience was unforgettable. The narrow river blends seamlessly with the flooded forest, forming a maze of channels and secluded passageways. Several times, we pointed our canoes straight into the jungle and gingerly pushed our way between tree trunks, vines and prickly shrubs.

We saw dozens, if not hundreds of birds and animals today--too many to list here. But, among others, we spotted several blue and yellow macaws, a three-toed sloth, spider monkeys and saddle-back tamarin monkeys.

It's been over a week since we left Chicago, and we've finally reached the flooded rainforest! We'll be sure to keep you posted as we continue to make our way down river. Together, we're sure to learn a lot about this amazing ecosystem.

- Adam