Twice I was jolted out of a sound sleep, once by rain, and again by perhaps something furry. Tip-toeing out to see what it was, flashlight in one hand, and a shotgun in the other, I was

disappointed in not finding a bear (I was hoping). Instead, the beavers were having a party down by the river. For a moment I considered firing off a round to see just how high John would jump, but thought better of it. (Paybacks are something else )

Next morning the sun was peeking through the clouds to give us the false impression of a nice day and we fell for it. No sooner had we started up river again than we were hit with a blinding snow storm. It must have lasted all of ten minutes because we no sooner got our rain gear on, it cleared off. All morning the weather kept playing games with us. From sleet to rain, sun to snow, and all over again. While at one of our many rest stops, four men who had stayed at High Falls came zipping down the river right past us and up a dead end stream. Assuming that they knew what they were doing we never gave it a second thought until they came back and ask us where the river was. John pointed the way and we both had a good chuckle, that is until we got back into that vicious current. The usual rapids were so far under water that we didn't have much trouble getting through. We did make two more important stops, one to fill John' s new water jug, complete with spigot and a leak, and once to get some Wintergreen to chew on.

Around noon we reached camp, and of course the sun came out, which was good, because I had to dry out my sleeping bag - again. We no sooner got our gear stowed than two hikers showed up. I thought to myself, who would be crazy enough to camp out here in this weather

but again we were here. Not wanting to see them sleep on the cold wet ground, we offered to take them across the river to the other lean-to, promising to come get them in the morning when they were ready to go. I've often wondered what they would have thought if we had snuck off during the night. The sky finally cleared off and it got quite cold that night. Cold enough to freeze water and toes.

Tuesday was exciting. I started a new business called "High Falls Ferry and Souvenir Service". After bringing our two hikers back across, we promptly went out of business due to lack of customers. After breakfast, there were these two "jerks" that fought their way up the river for about an hour and a half to the Robinson River, then hiked for miles through swamps, over rock, logs, mountains, and through brush were a bee couldn't buzz. After missing Sliding Falls by about two miles, they had to come all the way back through the same stuff (terrain, that is). Once they heard some strange yipping like a pack of wolves, they got out their shotgun and loaded it. Good thing too, because there was a pack of menacing frogs in a near by pond. Did they feel dumb or what? I also found, uh, I mean they found a nice eight point antler which made the whole trip worth while. The canoe couldn't have been a more welcome sight, and it took them only half an hour to get back to camp.

Sitting around the camp fire, enjoying a big plate of beans, John was telling me about

some cowboy. I looked up and for some reason beyond my grasp, John reminded me of Gabby Hayes. I'm not sure what triggered it but I spent the next half hour rolling around on the ground in a raging fit of mirth, bean juice running down my chin and all over my shirt. If we had a phone, I'm sure John would have called the boys in the white coats. It's probably a good thing they weren't around because for our evening entertainment we put hot coals on the end of a log and took turns blowing on it 'til we got dizzy. If any thing, it helped us sleep better., To keep myself warin that night I wrapped my sleeping bag in a space blanket. Big mistake. It holds in the heat airight, but it also holds in the moisture. In the morning the top of the bag was soaking wet and I had to dry it out for the third time.

Wednesday was beautiful. Seventy in the shade. We went for a short stroll to nowhere and back, then basically kicked back and attempted to recover from the past three days. That afternoon John noticed that we were smelling a bit ripe and thought he might wash up. Of course being the creative campers that we are, the wheels started turning in my head. Down by the river above the falls there is a depression in the rock that holds some water. We boiled a couple pots of water and added them to the water already in the depression - tada! - instant bath. Boy did that feel good. Laying out on the warm rocks to dry was an option, but the only problem that might have detoured us from enjoying our bath was surprise company that could have been just a little embarrassing.

Bright and early the next morning, right after sleeping in awhile, I finished one of my projects. Remember our evening of blowing on a hot coal? Well, we scraped the carbon out of the end of the log and coated it with wax; filled it with water, and what a nice little wash basin. After breakfast we took a nice leisurely stroll down to the bridge on the Five Ponds trail to see how much the water had gone down. This hike, unlike the one that made a marine obstacle course look like a Sunday picnic, was much more enjoyable. Many times I remember telling the

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