Posted by: bourbonmama | 14/09/2009

And it was good

 

wildflowers are the best kind
wildflowers are the best kind
We left Friday night, pulled into a campground and set up our tent on gravel in the last few minutes of twilight.  This is only for tonight, it’ll be fine.  Philip and Alan had to have a fire and so they built one.  I tried to sleep, but couldn’t for the excitement and the whole sleeping on gravel thing. 

We rose the next morning to coffee.  Thank gawd for Robyn!  We packed up everything into drybags and 5-gallon buckets.  And we all headed down to the put in spot, then unloaded everything, and then we got to wait.  For an hour.  The boys went to drop off a vehicle at the pull out spot.  Good thing there was an historic mining camp for us to tour, and one boy to sit with the canoes and drybags and buckets.  Thank gawd for Alan!  And, so Robyn and I took in a little mountain culture and made some new friends.

 

imaginary friends are the best kind
imaginary friends are the best kind

After pissing off for a while, we went back down to the water and found that Alan had had to move all three canoes and enough gear for six people all by himself so other people could put in.  Sorry Alan!  Who, by the way, should totally NOT be reading this, even though we talked about the blog but I never gave you the address.  Not that I could really stop you from reading it, but seriously, you should stop.  Now.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yeah, I’m good at pissing off.  Finally the boys come back and we get in the water.  Hoo-rah!

The good life...
The good life…

This picture was taken right before Philip said, “Damnit, Caroline!  You’re supposed to be helping me paddle!”  I just wanted to capture what my soul was feeling.  And it was good.  Then, we stopped and snacked, and swam.  Or Philip swam, right over to this huge rock with his friends egging him on.  “Jump off that rock, Philip!”  Robyn and I, the sensible ones, realized how shallow the water was, and how tall the rock really was.  Philip climbed up there, all full of adrenaline and feeling young again.  Ready to show us all.

He is man, hear him rawr.

He is man, hear him rawr.

 

 

Don’t worry, he didn’t jump.  He said he would have five years ago.  And he would’ve broken his neck, too. 

 Then, we went on down the river, we went too fast, apparently, we made it all the way to the pull out spot.  Yeah.  Six miles in a couple of hours.  So, we had two choices: 1) wait around while the boys shuffle the trucks around, then go travel downstream a little and make another trip tomorrow, or b) go upstream, yes paddle upstream, through a rapid, back to a beach we’d passed and camp there, then make the 30 minute trip back to where we were.  The boys decided on option B.  I just kept my mouth shut and pushed on through.  We finally made it to camp.  And, what d’ya know?  It was worth it.

So very worth it.

So very worth it.

and then we had an early dinner and I found out what happens when you cover your thighs for two years and then spend all day outside in shorts without the aide of sun-screen.

 

Ouch!
Ouch!
Then, after a full belly and a bourbon & diet (yes, it travels with me), I sat back and enjoyed the view.  My feet covered in sand, my hair wet with river water, my skin still warm from the late summer sun.  I breathed in the cool mountain air, and let the gentle breeze kiss my face.  I closed my eyes for a moment.  When I opened them, I saw this:
This fire was huge

This fire was huge

Yep, I’d fallen asleep.  For hours, I’m told.  Apparently, Philip was also having conversations with me.  Oh, yeah, I’m a sleep talker.  Luckily, this time I only mumbled.  That nap was the best I’ve had in years.  Damn, now I know I’m old.  I woke up the next morning, to the sound of rain hitting the tent.  Awesome.  We figured it would go away soon.  It always rains in the mornings in the mountains.  Then, Philip, that wonderful man, braved the rain to get the fire going again, so we could have coffee. 

Back off, he's mine

Back off, he's mine

Then, Robyn came out to help, while I hid in the dry tent with my camera.  The rain died down, and then started again all day.  No amount of positive thinking would chase it away. 
rain, rain, go away...

rain, rain, go away...

So, we packed everything up, loaded up our canoes, and headed back to the pull out spot.  Sore arms, and rain on my face.  Dreaming of the clean socks and dry clothes buried deep in our dry-bag, I paddled and paddled.  And, it was good.

 

See ya next year!

See ya next year!

 

 

 

 

 

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Responses

  1. Looks like a good time! Good for you:)

  2. Okay, I’m no nature person, and my idea of roughing it involves staying at a hotel with no room service, but that looks pretty fun. Can I come next time?

  3. We love to camp! Get yourself an air mattress girl! For the gravel sleeping. I’ve always wanted to camp right next to the river, but just never had the opportunity or the energy to hike the trail carrying all that gear to get there. This looks so fun!

    • That’s what was so great about this trip–NO HIKING! There was a lot of paddling and sore shoulders, though.


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