Editor's note: Mariah Davis is in the midst of a monthlong, 571-mile float of the Yellowstone River, from Gardiner to its confluence with the Missouri, to raise awareness of the nation's longest free-flowing river.

Jasmine, my 4-year-old daughter, and I have been traveling the river for one week now. With 158 river miles behind us and 413 more to go, our spirits are still high.

We anxiously await the adventure each new day brings and the mystery of what lies just beyond the next river bend.

On Aug. 16, our journey to North Dakota began at the put-in near Gardiner during the heat of the day. I stared down the long and winding path that led half-a-mile down to the river. I sighed in agony realizing we must carry everything.

After 20 or more heavy trips in the hot sun, I was longing for a team of pack mules. After hours of gear lugging, the raft was finally rigged and ready to go. At the first stroke of the oars, I realized our month of provisions had created a barge.

Within moments we were crashing through white water. Jasmine's shrieks of laughter rose out above the waves. "Hit the biggest ones, mama!" she yelled.

That night we were rewarded by the perfect camp spot with a sandy beach. We watched the full moon rise and fell asleep to the soft roar of the rapids.

The following day we navigated the next stretch of white water, Yankee Jim Canyon. I began to get used to rowing such a heavy boat. Our lines were clean and the rapids were exciting. A fly fisherman pondering our oversized load asked jokingly, "Where ya headed, North Dakota?" I replied, "Yes we are!"

We hiked up and explored Tom Miners Creek, where we found petrified wood. When the sun set behind the jagged skyline we found a large island and set up camp. Hooting owls sung us to sleep as the moon rose behind the cottonwoods.

That night, the animals on the island partook in a wild rumpus. Mysterious noises from all around interrupted the sound of silence. Large creatures crashed through the forest behind us while animals splashed in the river throughout the night.

With my heart pounding, I must have grabbed the bear spray 10 times. I tried growling and barking at a large presence coming close to our tent. Jasmine awoke and asked, "Mama what's that noise?"

I whispered, "Go back to sleep Jas, it's just me barking."

I could not wait for the morning sun to rise.

When the island finally lit up with golden sunlight, things did not appear so scary. The animals must have all been resting, worn out after a wild night of running amuck beneath a bright moon.

Paradise valley was spectacular. The Absaroka Range, snow capped and rugged, towered in the west and the Gallatin Range loomed in the east. Eagles and osprey soared in the blue sky. The current remained swift. The log jams and mild rapids required constant maneuvering.

Jennifer Harris, owner of Outdoor Kidfitter Co, joined us for three days along with two of her children, Grace, 3, and Jace, 7. They brought with them two Jackson kayaks, one child size and one adult.

While Grace enjoyed running the rapids in the kayak with her mom, Jace was thrilled to navigate the small white water on his own. Just outside of Livingston, a large crashing wave filled his open deck kayak with water and it sank.

We chased down the loose items, drained the water from his boat, and away he paddled excited about his first small river carnage, and the wonderful story he now had to tell.

After long days on the water, camp was always a welcomed adventure. The children would explore, catch minnows and bugs, go fishing and dig in the sand. It is amazing how eager kids are to learn in a wilderness setting. I feel that nature itself is a fabulous teacher.

On day six the rain began and continued until nightfall. Jasmine and I traveled 31 miles through high winds and strong downpours. The rivers channels became frequently braided, flowing between rocky islands, sandbars and raised cottonwood groves.

After a week of river travel, the Rocky Mountains grew further and smaller in the distance behind us. What once was a cold, clear and swift flowing mountain stream, was slowly transforming into a slow moving, high-prairie river rich in sediment. With many a miles to go, we hope the elements are kind and the wind is at our back.

Mariah Davis is a river guide with 13 years of experience.