brief snapshots in time. memories and thoughts. disorganized and random.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

beautiful rocks

The night was beautiful. Despite the clouds, the red rocks stood out against the gray. Sitting on my trunk, enjoying a beer, talking about life.

It had been far too long since A and I had just relaxed, without other people around. We hadn't gotten to really talk in a while.

The subject turned to my general blah feeling about things lately. To the dark cloud that seems to follow me around constantly. To whether or not I was looking for another guy. How I wasn't sure if I cared enough to try again to chase away the cloud.

She insisted that I would care, when I was ready. As we walked into the show, I wasn't sure that would ever be the case.

Hours later as we walked out of one of the better shows we'd seen recently, as I breathed in the fragrant air, I realized my attitude had changed. This time for good.

Time to ignore the dark clouds and focus on the many beautiful rocks in my life. My friends, my family. All of them.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007


she parked her car. the person who had just pulled out of the spot she took reversed. parked behind her. she became a little concerned.

then she saw his face. she smiled. he got out and walked up to her. they hugged hello, as they always did.

they talked for longer than they should have. each was late for the busy life. but they ignored their responsibilities.

he was teasing her about how they never hung out anymore. trying to talk her into going to a show later that month.

she wanted to, but couldn't. she explained to him that she had to go to a wedding with her boyfriend. he seemed a slight bit disappointed, but understood.

they compared future trips they were taking. shows they were seeing. promised to hang out soon, as they hugged farewell.

she wondered if it was wrong to prefer to hang out with her friend over attending her boyfriend's friends' wedding. where she would only know her boyfriend.

she knew she would never really bail on her boyfriend. but the fact that she considered it, made her wonder a little.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

notes in the garden

My mom and I met my friends at the gardens. Found space on the grass for everyone. And started our picnic.

Cheese and crackers. Fresh fruit. Wine. Milanos. And of course, great conversation.

The music began and we all settled in. Some swayed in their seats, some just tapped a foot or a finger.

Everyone enjoyed the beautiful jazz emanating from the trumpets, saxophones, and trombones. The ethereal sounds of African chants and drums. And the mix of the two.

The setting sun brought out the texture in the clouds. Adding dimension to the sky.

It was surreal. I love that place. All the more when enjoying amazing music.

Surrounded by friends, I momentarily forgot that I was supposed to be frightened. Forgot the empty, scary feeling of my house.

The feeling didn't return until I locked the door as my mom left. Alone again the darkness crept back in. The fear. I tried to push it out of my mind. Tried to make room for sleep. But to no avail.

Monday, June 25, 2007


I can't sleep, yet that's all I want to do. I feel robbed. Not only of my camera, but of my freedom. I haven't been missing The(ex)Boy too much recently. But now, now I do. I wouldn't mind having someone around who would notice if I disappeared.

But instead of someone to feel safe with, I am left to try and make my house more secure. Keep people out. Try to make myself less afraid. Alone.

The police officer suggested the camera thief might be someone I know. Or someone someone I know knows.

That disgusts me even more. Could someone I know have walked crawled into my house and taken the one item they knew would cut my last shred of happiness?

My mother suggested The(ex)Boy. My sister suggested NowEx. I can't believe either would ever even contemplate such a thing.

But then again, I'm still naive enough to not fully comprehend how someone could do this at all. Much less to someone they know.

I know I'm supposedly lucky. Lucky that nothing else happened. But it doesn't feel that way right now. Right now all I feel is scared. I'm "armed" as I never wanted to be. And even so, I'm too afraid to even fall asleep.

Sunday, June 24, 2007


I was awoken in the middle of the night by a noise. It sounded like TheDog getting into something in a ceramic dish on the counter.

I sprung out of bed with the intention of scolding her. By the time I got to the door of my bedroom, and the squeaky floorboard, I realized TheDog was sound asleep on the floor at the foot of my bed.

My heart leapt into my throat.

I returned to my bedside table to grab my cell phone. Again crossing the squeaky floorboard. That's when I heard the flip-flap of the doggie door.

I stood there frozen. Listening.


Various thoughts swirled in my head. Could it have been a person? In my house? Or simply a raccoon? Perhaps a squirrel?

I talked myself into believing that it was only an animal. That would account for the ceramic bowl with food in it moving on the counter.

I crawled back into bed. Cell phone in hand. Too nervous to fall back asleep. After lying there for a while, I got up and got ready for work. For the most part forgetting about my 4am visitor.


I left my purse on the back of my seat at a restaurant for 5 minutes. I quickly returned to retrieve it. The very nice owner had found it and placed it behind the counter himself.

I quickly did an inventory when he returned it to me, and found there was cash missing. A bit of cash. I asked him if he had opened it for any reason, he and another customer assured me he had not.

I left annoyed. How could someone do that. Then lie about it. Particularly the owner of an establishment frequented by my coworkers and me. I realized, though, that there was nothing I could do.


I woke up early Saturday morning to work on a present for my sister's best friend for her shower that evening. A book of advice and wisdom for the soon-to-be-married couple.

I wanted it to be perfect. She grew up with us. Her mom died when we were in about junior high, and my mom was there for her. She's like another little sister to me.

In assembling the words of advice from their family and friends, I realized I'd forgotten to scan in their newspaper announcement. And I couldn't use the clipping, I needed to return it. I decided I could quickly take a photo of it, then print it. I went to grab my camera.

It wasn't where I was certain I had left it.

I looked everywhere, even places I would never put it. That's when I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I took a quick inventory of everything. Nothing else appeared to be missing.

I thought back to when I was last certain the camera was there. Monday morning. When I took the card out to upload Father's Day pictures.

To when I was certain it wasn't. Wednesday evening. When I tidied up for Girls' Night.

How unobservant could I be? My camera. The one "thing" I truly love. Everything else is replaceable. I know a camera is, too. But mine is not. Not really. They no longer make it.

Someone was in my house. In the middle of the night. They took my camera. Probably the money in my purse. They may have taken more if the squeaky floorboard hadn't scared them.

They could have easily walked up the stairs to where TheDog and I were. I haven't slept since this realization hit. I'm not sure when I will feel safe enough.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

summer already?

It's summer. Again.

It seems like yesterday was summer. Last summer. Then the incident, then work got insane. And then somehow nearly a year of my life flew by. And I barely noticed.

At a friend's birthday celebration the other night I made a promise. To myself. To spend more time hanging out with friends on patios this summer. To spend more time with TheDog. To spend more time enjoying summer.

Originally I had planned to put myself out there. Date a sampling of guys. But now I think I need to take the time to enjoy myself. Enjoy hanging out with my friends.

If a guy happens to come along who is amazing, it would be great. But I'm not going to worry about it. At least not for now.

We'll see how long I can keep this promise.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

bugs to fish

Downtown Aquarium

After a yummy dinner of take-out Italian at my house, we had planned to go see the Big Bugs, but my "buggie" loving niece and the rest of the girls in my family would have to wait. The Botanic Gardens was closed.

We refused to let our evening adventure just end. I was most stubborn. I'd left work early for this outing. And my boss was none too happy about that. So before admitting defeat, we quickly called all the other opportunities. The zoo, museums, but we were left with the fishies.

Not that I don't appreciate a good aquarium. I used to absolutely love our aquarium. Back when it was Ocean Journey I would spend hours there. Often. Watching the sharks, the fish, the sea and river otters, and always the tigers.

I loved the educational side of it, the volunteers who answered your questions almost before you had time to ask them, and the dive volunteers who would clean the tanks from the inside.

Then it started having fund-raising issues. And a fish restaurant company bought them out. It was sad. And I hadn't gone for a few years. I was afraid at what they might do to it.

Apparently I was right to be concerned.

The aquarium still has tigers*, and river otters, although both were napping. But everything was just a mess. The facilities in general and tanks in particular are dirty, inside and out.

There is also very little in the way of education. The placards by the tanks cover one or two species in a ten species tank. But many things you were left wondering about. Which fish is that? Where is that fish that the entire placard describes? And there was absolutely no one to answer questions.

But perhaps the biggest travesty is how the animals and fish are taken care of. In the duck area, there was a poor duck outside his exhibit, gently banging his beak on the tank glass, wanting back in.

We waited for a while. To see if he could fly back up. To see if anyone that worked there might come by to help. There was no one in sight.

After one failed attempt in which I scared the poor duck a bit, I managed to scoop him up and place him back in his exhibit. He excitedly washed himself off and greeted his other duck friends. We had done our good deed for the evening.

The sting rays in the "petting tank" also concerned us. They have it set up so that you can pet and feed them, which is really cool. My nieces, sister-in-law and mom thought so as much as I did.

But there they are in a tank, where anyone can touch them, and there is absolutely no supervision. No one to keep the teenage boy next to us from grabbing the poor ray. One even had a bloody fin which likely resulted from some such abuse.

As we left the aquarium I was sad. Very sad.

The amazing non-profit aquarium I once loved is long gone. My nieces still enjoyed seeing all the fishies, turtles, eels, sharks, rays, and tigers. But it's not the place I once hoped to take my own kids someday.

The magic has been replaced with commerce. The calm with flashing lights. The education with a focus on buying key chains.

No longer a place I longed to go once a week. Or stay until they kicked me out. We headed home. Away from the Downtown Aquarium. Once my sanctuary, now a Landry's amusement park.


You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

* This tiger shot is from a previous visit, back when the glass was clean and a clear shot could be taken.

Monday, June 18, 2007

out of the woodwork

One door closes, another opens. Or a couple of windows. Or a trap door.

In the last few days, boys past have come out of the woodwork. A guy friend who used to almost-stalk me in college found me in the alumni directory. NowEx left a message out of the blue. And 24 and I talked, for a long time, over the weekend.

I mentioned the message from NowEx to Coworker C, and he emphatically asked stated that I knew better, right?


I might entertain the thought of hanging out with 24 over the summer, but I'm not stupid enough to ever let NowEx have another chance. Really, I'm not.

But I am curious to see why he called. Nearly a year after the last time we ran into each other.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

just what I needed

I'd been in a bit of a funk. Despite drinks and flirtations in the middle of the week, I still felt melancholy. Even visiting the fishies* and dinner and wine at a friend's house couldn't break through it.

The rose-colored glasses had found their way back. The trigger was likely the plans we had made for the weekend. The plans I was no longer welcome to join in. And my friends all seemed to be busy. Too busy to help distract me.

I think I had unknowingly become "that girl." The one who falls of the face of the earth when she dates someone. Only I hadn't really done it only because of the boy, it had been mostly work. But I suppose to some degree the boy's insistence I spend my free time with him.

The shower on Saturday made me feel incredibly alone. I was the only solo one there. Everyone else was coupled. And their stories of babies and weddings and honeymoons and one-year dating anniversary trips kept chipping away at my brave facade.

By the time my friend's husband had stopped by to help carry away the loot, I was a mess. But still hiding it convincingly. Well, hiding it until her husband looked at me with his sincere look. Telling me how fabulous I was. How I was too good for him. Everything everyone else had said, but his pity made me cry.

After saying my goodbyes I bailed on my mile-long list of errands and went home to wallow nap. All I really wanted to do was go see my friend's band play, but not a single friend wanted to go with me. Normally heading to a show solo would be no big deal, but I just couldn't bring myself to consider it.

I had almost given up when Creative called and said she and another friend would go, but I owed them. I knew it was my melancholy tone on my return message to her that did it. And I knew owing her is perhaps not the best idea, but I didn't care. I needed to see a little live music. I needed to see some friends singing and playing their hearts out.

And that's just what we did.

Before the show, over dinner, Creative's friend got the lowdown on the situation. When it was just the two of us at the table she leaned in and told me that she never quite got why we were together. That I could do so much better. My friends had all said just that, but not until she said it, someone who is just an acquaintance, someone who really had no reason to just try to make me feel better, did it begin to sink in.

Once we got to the show it was quite obvious that Creative and friend weren't that excited about the music, but I danced and sang along with the band, anyway. Excited enough for all of us. With each chorus, each beautiful melody, my melancholy slipped a little further away.

On the car ride home I found that comfortable feeling where I believe things are good. Life is good. Everything was going to be alright, one way or another.

When I wished my dad a Happy Father's Day on the phone this morning, he even noticed the change, and he's not one to notice such things.

Then, when I talked to my mom to arrange the afternoon's festivities*, she asked about my mood improvement. I told her it was seeing my friend's band play. She laughed. She's perhaps the only one I know that understands the effect music, live music in particular, has on me.

By the time my family arrived for the Father's Day festivities I was downright happy. And that's the way I intend to stay. For as long as possible.

* Will get to the other stories soon.

Friday, June 15, 2007

no dogs allowed

I started out the day early. Full of energy. Ready to tackle anything. But not this. Not the note I found on the door of the coffee shop this morning.

No longer can TheDog and I walk down to the patio and enjoy a steaming cup of yummy goodness or a dog bone. TheMan has taken away one of my favorite things to do on a lazy weekend.

Something about health codes and patios. But it's not a restaurant. They don't really serve food. What's next? Outlawing dogs from picnic areas in parks because people might eat a scone there.

I feel I need to do something about it. I just wish I knew what that something was.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

back in the game

My alarm went off and I wasn't exactly certain where I was. Things were a little fuzzy. And not only because I didn't have my contacts in, but because my head was fuzzy. And actually my tongue a little, too.

What started out innocently enough as a work networking happy hour, ended with several shots of Tuaca and staying out way past my school-night bedtime.

There was a band. There was female bonding with colleagues. There was flirting. With guys years younger, years older, and one apparently married. (Although, in my defense, he wore no ring.)

Not a bad way to ease back in the "game." Plenty of wingmen (and wingwomen) for backup if neccessary. And free wine. And shots.

I got no digits. I gave no digits. But I did get the promise of set-ups and arranged meetings.

Perhaps my sister's plan for my summer may come to fruition. She's convinced I should date a healthy assortment of guys, before settling back into a boyfriend.

Could be an entertaining summer.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

talk the walk

I hadn't seen S in almost a month, since we were in Texas. Which is ridiculous, as she lives two blocks away. She's busy when I'm not. I'm busy when she's not.

She stopped by to take TheDog for a walk with me. We walked and talked and laughed. It felt great to laugh. Really laugh.

We talked about her health, and how it had kept her from joining us on the river trip and how her summer had become a little less free. Doctor's orders.

She asked about TheBoy. She assured me that I was better off without him. That I would find someone who makes me happy and whom I make happy.

We talked about whether either of us believed that, or would life continue to throw us both curve balls, testing our strength.

We've both been a little tired lately. Tired of having to be strong. Tired of working through the tough times. Tired of having surprises happen, the not-so-good kind.

She's perhaps more independent than I am. She's fine without having a guy around. I am, too, to some degree. I don't need to have a man by my side, but I do want one. A great one.

And I can't believe that's going to happen right now. I think my usual realism has turned a bit pessimistic lately.

But as S insisted, that needs to change. I need to have fun this summer. Not bury myself in my work as I am known to do. Not hide out on hiking trails with TheDog. Or at the coffee shop with a book.

Monday, June 11, 2007

last goodbye

Before the stillness had set in, before I'd had time to think too much about things, my friends were there to keep me busy.

A friend's birthday happy hour turned into too many drinks and staying out too late. Too late and too tired to have any energy left to think about what there was to talk about.

After our talk the next morning, another friend insisted I didn't bail on our plans. We spent the rest of the day seeing Knocked Up and lunching on a patio with bloody marys.

I'd looked forward to that night for months. The event he'd suggested we get tickets to. My sister and husband were to join us. Luckily. Or I'd have suddenly been without any one to go with hours before the show.

The show was amazing. The many vodka drinks beforehand didn't hurt. For the better part of two hours I sang along with Gordon Sumner, between my sister and a great friend who'd agreed to go that afternoon.

My sister and I grew up listening to them. Of course, upon my brothers' insistence. The only way the night could have been better was if my brother had been there with us, instead of on his honeymoon.

Only a bit of lyrics here or a fleeting memory there reminded me of how different things had become in the last day or so.

I guess this is our last goodbye
And you don't care so I won't cry

And I won't. Much. Anymore.

Sunday, June 10, 2007


Everything was still. Absolutely still. Not a sound. Not a leaf rustling in the tree outside my bedroom window.

I felt still like the leaves. Like everything had stopped. Perhaps in some ways it had. I lay there thinking about the stillness, part of it.

Then it was broken. The thump of a tail. A pleading pair of brown eyes peeking up from beside the bed. Awaiting our Sunday morning ritual.

I peeled myself out of bed, determined to find something to break through the stillness that seemed to have permeated my very being.

Tears rolled down my cheeks involuntarily as we walked. I couldn’t help the sadness that had come over me. And I couldn’t imagine anything that would.

Memories streamed in my head. But all of the tough times seemed to have been filtered. It was as if my memory had put on a pair of rose-colored glasses.

My favorite stand of pine trees reminded me of our hikes and walks. A song on a passing car stereo of amazing nights at shows. A petunia. A crumbling set of concrete stairs.

Every little thing reminded me. Of the great times we had together. Of all the plans we had made for the summer that I had been so looking forward to.

At the coffee shop, on our walk home, in line at the grocery store, everywhere I went, the tears just started. Without warning. People would look at me questioningly. I would look away.

It’s nearly impossible to believe now. But I know someday, the rose-colored memories will fade. I know the tears will subside. I know these feelings of stillness will pass.

Even knowing it to be true doesn’t make believing it any easier right now.

Friday, June 08, 2007

coffee exchange

The exchange that took place at my favorite addiction satisfaction locale at some ungodly hour this morning:
Very Nice Coffee Purveyor: Good morning, RG, how are you??

Me: Hi, VNCP, I'm ok. How are you?

VNCP: I like that, honesty. No saying you're fine, when you're really not. But ok, is, well ok!

[I just smiled, somewhat unconvincingly.]

VNCP: Is it work?

Me: Work and other things. Mostly just need caffeine.

VNCP: That I can fix. Here you go. Have a good day.

Me: Thanks, you too.
I smiled, again, took my cup of steaming addiction, and left.

Actually, honesty was not what came out this morning. The truthful answer would have been. Terrible.

But you don't tell relative strangers that your whole world appears to be crashing in around you. That you got no sleep because you're worried about your dog, your health, your relationship, and your job. In that order.

And that even though everyone says you put your job first too much, you really don't. You just sometimes hide behind it when you can't deal with anything else.

When the "We need to talk" message and the pain in your back keeps you up all night. Sometimes peeling yourself out of bed before the sun rises and heading off to work is the only thing keeping you sane.

Even if it does contribute to the insanity side of things, as well.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007


On my long drive back to reality I had some time to kill. My dad's large vehicle was only needed for it's cargo capacity. Not really for any humans, besides me to drive it.

So I did as most people do when they spend over a day's work-time driving. Solo. I sang out loud. Very loud. And I pondered. Life. Things.

The last night of our trip my friend's cousin asked me why my friend was being so rude to me. But only when another friend was around. I shrugged it off, but it gave me something to think about.

He's a great friend. Or so I thought. We had had a little issue a few years back. We almost dated, but it didn't work out. And I thought we were completely past any weirdness. Back to just being great friends.

But his childish behavior towards me told a different story. It's obvious he's interested in the other friend. Which doesn't bother me one bit. But it's as if he thinks making fun of me, and being rude to me will impress her.

I have no idea what she thought. If she even took time between her giggles to notice. I just know that I found his rudeness to be sad.

I had trusted him. Trusted our friendship completely. This was all before the issues. And he had made me question my trust in him. In the years that have passed, our friendship has remained and he has earned back my trust.

But his inability to consistently be a friend to me has made me realize that my friendship to him is fine with him. When it's convenient. When he can use my extra baseball tickets. When I can borrow a bigger car to haul all the boats.

But when I asked him to stick around for 5 extra minutes when we dropped the boats off to vouch for the defective equipment I was rented, he couldn't be bothered.

I must say I learned a few valuable things over the course of the trip.

That I really can get along with just about anyone. Even eccentric old men and always-on seven year-olds. Even stuck with them on a river for five days.

That you should always check gear out extremely carefully before depending on it to get you down a river. Or really any sort of gear you depend on to get you somewhere or keep you safe.

And maybe most importantly, that even though you give someone a second chance. Learn to trust them again. It's no one's fault but your own when they repeat past behavior and easily discard your friendship when it's inconvenient.

The ending of the river trip made me sad, but the ending of my trust in a friend and my belief that he deserved a second chance was the biggest letdown.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

take out

River Trip (Day 5)
For the first time all trip, I woke up before anyone else. I took the opportunity to enjoy the sunrise and see if the new waterproof camera could do justice to the beautiful colors popping out in the rocks.

The early morning sun brought out the reds in the canyon walls, the green in the leaves, and the blue in the sky. The pools we'd seen the evening before mirrored the sunrise-kissed rocks. Not too bad for a camera that can swim and take a beating. Both of which it had done earlier on the trip.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, it woke the others up. By the time I returned to camp, the coffee was brewing.

After breakfast, we quickly broke up camp and packed the boats. The slowest part of the river lie ahead, and with it the promise of some paddling.

As we began our last day on the river, the canyon walls seemed to gleam in the sun. The colors were incredible against the brilliant blue sky. The rain and dreariness of the last few days had been forgotten.

As we continued on our way, we realized the river wasn't as slow as we had anticipated. The flows were still up, and we had plenty of time to stop at a sand bar in the middle of the river for lunch.

The quicksand bar became a playground for us as we enjoyed our PB&Js, cheese doodles and beer. Silly photos of people stuck up to their thighs, leaning too far forward, backward. One last group photo. And then it was time to go.

We continued along. The duckies faster than the raft. So we grabbed each other's boats and floated down the river talking. Laughing. Making fun of the guys in the raft trying to use a tarp as a sail.

As the canyon walls loomed less and less high above the river, we knew the take out was close. Just around the bend.

I was a little sad to see the red clay hills. Another fantastic river trip had come to an end. All that was left was the work.

As we began taking all of the boats out, I had to snap a picture of my favorite sign. The one that tells you to not proceed. There's a waterfall ahead.

Everyone quickly unloaded and deflated all of the boats, and we waited for our shuttles back. Back to civilization. Back to reality.

The ride back was quiet. After five days of constant banter, everyone seemed content to just watch the desert landscape pass by.

Once we were back, we grabbed a milkshake and began the tedious work of unpacking the shuttles, cleaning everything, and repacking for the drive home the next day.

After dinner and a shower I fell into bed, exhausted. Partly wishing the trip did not have to end.


You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

Monday, June 04, 2007

bumpy but beautiful

River Trip (Day 4)

The day started out clear enough, but a bit chilly. Cold, actually. And then it turned downright dreary by the time we neared the "big" rapid. Drops started falling. Again.

We pulled the boats up and scouted what lie ahead. There weren't as many enormous rocks showing as there were last time we ran it, but the holes they made now were nothing to sneeze at.

Everyone but the littlest ran the rapid. Everyone got a bit wet, but no one swam.

We continued downriver until the second to littlest was shivering so badly that we had to stop, dry him off and warm him up before he shivered to death.

Once he felt better, we continued on to our assigned camping spot for the night. Just as we did, the sun begun to tease us by peeking through the clouds occasionally.

We became like the lizards, sitting on the sunny rocks to try to warm ourselves. And when the canyon walls cast a shadow on our entire campsite, we started up the gulch in search of more sun.

We chased the sun, all the while exploring the pools and beautiful rocks. The dreary weather had kept us from the plunge pools that had been my favorite part of the previous trip. But this hike, the quiet, the sun, almost made up for that.

As we watched the sun set behind the giant rock, I smiled to myself. Perfect. The day may have started rough, but it ended beautifully.

As the light withdrew completely from the canyon on our last night, we enjoyed my camping specialty, fajitas, and another's apple cobbler. Washing it down with a few beers, as we were determined to not pack any out with us.

Another amazing day on the river, despite the bumps.


You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

water and rain

River Trip (Days 2-3)

After our hike we quickly ate lunch, then packed up camp and began our second day on the river. Paddling through a few minor rapids and riffles.

Although it was a short day on the river we stopped to hang out and eat a quick snack. Lose a flip-flop and drink a beer.

Again, because of our late start, the camping spots were limited. So we stopped at a small gulch to camp. We unpacked the boats and settled in to camp. That night we had stuffed peppers for dinner and laughed until the moon set taking its light away.

I read a little before falling asleep under the starry sky. Early in the morning, before the sun had risen, I heard people milling about. Then I felt the raindrops on my face.

I hoped it would be just a sprinkle as it had been the night before. But the drops continued to get larger and more frequent. So, I quickly got up and threw my rain fly on my tent.

The rain continued. The entire next day and night. We drank hot cocoa and tea and tried to stay warm and dry. And decided to stay off the river for the day.

After a dinner of beef stew for everyone else and a PB&J tortilla for me, we headed to bed early in anticipation of the long day ahead. Rain or shine.


You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.