June '10 Newsletter
June '10 Newsletter |
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April is normally a busy month in Black Canyon City and this year was no exception. Susan decided fairly late to perform in the Lion's Club 25th Annual White Cane Parade. The small turnout of local clowns was augmented by five from Sun City's Red Hot Clown Alley. Shenanigans were entertaining enough to bring home the second place trophy in the performing category. The Red Hot Clown Alley has first shot at the prize but it may eventually return to BCC and take up residence with some of the newer clowns. Our kitchen mantel sports 6 trophies from previous parades, so we're trying to pass new ones along. Just in case the kids didn't get a belly full of candy at the parade, they were given another opportunity the following morning at High Desert's annual Easter Egg Hunt. The Easter Bunny had the little kids starry eyed, the pre-teens were a bit rough, and as usual, the parents were a royal pain in the rear. Our local paper published Susan's egg hunt article along with a couple of Bob's photos.
With all of the rain we received in January, the wildflower season was long and truly spectacular. The variety was the best we've seen and carpeted fields took the place of our usual sparse smattering. Wildflower season was followed by a long duration cactus bloom that is still going on. The cacti in our cactus garden took turns and some that haven't bloomed before amazed us with unique, fragile blossoms that usually lasted less than 24 hours.
Susan's cousin came from California for lunch and a visit. Her parents were Susan's God parents, so they've kept in touch over the years. This time Lorraine was accompanied by her son Paul, his wife Debbie, and Lorraine's daughter Debbie. Paul and Debbie live in Waddell, a western suburb of Phoenix. The other Debbie lives in northern California. This was the first time that we have met either Debbie. It was a nice long visit and we poured over myriad pictures of shared great grandparents.
After years of saving information about canoeing Topock Gorge, we finally braved it in our sea kayaks, trip description in this letter. We had hoped to slide in a spring sea kayaking trip above Lees Ferry but had enough chilly spells to put that off for another year. We took advantage of the cooler temperatures to explore an area north of us in a day-long bushwack that left no exposed skin unscathed. The mountains surrounding us are littered with interesting old mine sites and cowboy camps to visit. A May hike is usually out of the question but with only three days over 100 degrees that month our weather was cool enough to allow one and running streams replaced the normally dry creek beds.
Salt River Canyon was the site of Bob's 70th birthday celebration. Scott, Tennille, and our grand dog Hudson drove down from Albuquerque to meet us there for a fun day of rafting. Hudson, nearly invisible in his stylish camo life vest, enjoyed paddle rafting but eventually went to sleep with his head on Tennille's knee. We camped for two nights, one with the kids. Susan had baked Bob's favorite German chocolate cake but also indulged him by picking up a big pie. Mid-Sunday morning, we said our goodbyes and headed south, while the kids headed north to take Tennille's mom out for a Mothers' Day dinner. It was a fun weekend and a nice birthday.
Susan's 86 year-old dad had a pacemaker installed in late May. He got to a point of being winded even when tying his shoes, which was not conducive to being as active as he has always been and wanted to be. We are happy to report that he is doing very well and is thrilled to be able to resume normal activities.
Preparing to leave for the entire month of June took the last couple of weeks of May. Our plan was to initially visit Ronica and John in Hailey for a few days, join friends on their Middle Fork trip, continue down the Main Salmon by ourselves after they left at Cache Bar, loop around through Boise back to Ronica and John's, pick up the balance of our gear and meet friends and family for a second run down the Main. This became further complicated when we decided to leave our river gear with friends in Washington, store our truck in Spokane, fly home from there for the month of July, and fly back in August to continue to a sea kayaking trip in Canada. Susan forgot relatively few things but the truck and trailer were loaded to the gills when we left for Idaho, looking like Okies from the movie the Grapes of Wrath.
Our journey north was uneventful. Except for gas stops, we drove straight through to a rest area just short of Twin Falls where we crawled into a tight space in the back of the camper shell to catch a few hours of sleep. We did a bit of shopping in Twin before continuing north to Hailey. Ronica's birthday matches early Salmon raft trip dates, so we have been lucky to celebrate this special event with her more than once over the past years. Their son Alex was home for the summer after his first year of college but they have a big house with plenty of room for company. Since our last visit a large storage garage had been added, which turned out to be a perfect place to store our trailer loaded with extra gear needed for the group trips.
Their old dog Opal is slowing down, so they are currently bird training a pup that is full of energy. Add her playful disposition to that of four cats and a good time is usually had by all. Susan became especially attached to their big cat "Jumper" who can open the French doors from the outside when he wants to come in. She spent hours with this "Big Puddy" on her lap. The Idaho wildflowers were just starting to emerge when we took a number of walks in the foothills near their home. We were the beneficiaries of some wonderful meals not to mention a bag of delicious home smoked jerky made by John the quintessential grill master. Not to be outdone, Ronica sent us off to the put-in with a big bag of home made monster cookies. Between our solo trip and the group trip, we returned to their home for another couple of days visit and to pick up the rest of the gear. The flowers were in full bloom by the time we returned and the weather was much warmer.
After leaving the group at Spring Bar in early July, we drove northwest to Moses Lake, Washington where our friends Lou and Debbie now reside. Lou was off hiking with their youngest son Tyler but Debbie and middle son Casey were home to welcome us. We spent the evening with them, visiting, feasting on tamales, and watching an action movie. They were gracious hosts and we especially enjoyed taking a hot shower and sleeping in a real bed. We left our trailer full of river gear parked in their garage and ventured north, our ultimate destination being Spokane. Since it was the 4th of July, tourist areas were jam packed, campgrounds were full, and traffic was bearly manageable. Casey had recommended a stop at Dry Falls and that turned out to be quite interesting. Bob had hoped to tour the power plant at Grand Coulee Dam but it was quite busy and he wouldn't wait two hours for the privilege. We ended up in Spokane a bit ahead of schedule and spent two evenings at the movies. We were especially enamored with Spokane's downtown river walk area.
Our June newsletter became a July publication when we didn't return home from our Idaho adventures until July 7th. We'd like to say it's good to be home but quite frankly, the heat is kicking our butts. Hiking or biking even in the early morning is a trial. We're already looking forward to escaping to Canada.
Topock Gorge Kayak (4/6/10 - 4/11/10):
Located near Lake Havasu City on Arizona's border with California, Topock Gorge is an area we had always wanted to visit. Years ago our friends Charlotte and Char canoed the Gorge and reported back to us that it might better be visited mid-week when motor traffic is lower.
We loaded our sea kayaks onto the roof of the topper the night before and had our camping gear ready to go. Finishing an afternoon appointment in Phoenix slightly before rush hour, we braved the I-10 freeway heading west towards Los Angeles. Eventually, we left the freeway behind taking secondary roads through Parker to a quiet, county park campground along the river on the north side of town, where we spent a pleasant, bug-free evening.
We were unaware that it was spring break for many California schools and during the night, a large group of campers arrived and surrounded us. They were quiet and we were marginally aware of their existence until we got up for breakfast. After a couple of cups of java, Susan was ready to paddle and we were on our way. Since it was our first time on the water this season, we were probably over-prepared with wetsuits and emergency gear, but we could have spent the night had the need arisen. Our sea kayaks glide slickly through the water even when heavily loaded or into the wind. Fortunately for us, the wind had died down and what little we had pushed us downstream. One set of boy scouts had left camp ahead of us and we overtook the slower members of their group fairly quickly. There were a few pontoon boats out fishing but very few motor boats or jet skis until about 11 AM. Many years ago our good friend Charlotte thought canoeing there was "like riding a bike in the Indianapolis 500" and we would have to agree. Huge cigarette boats can be a bit intimidating when viewed from a sea kayak.
The scouts landed on river left to investigate a large petroglyph display and do some cliff jumping. We joined them to see the petroglyphs but passed on the cliff jumping. While squeezed between their canoes on the narrow landing shelf, the fast boat traffic increased even more and what some might consider too close passes came close to swamping Bob's parked kayak. We had to dump his cockpit quickly, hold up the kayak for two foot wave crests, and then time a launch between boat passes.
Dave from Jerkwater was on time picking us up, arriving within minutes of our toting the kayaks to the parking area, a short walk from the landing. He and Bob loaded them up while we waited a few minutes for another couple to join us. After dropping them at the marina, we unloaded our gear at our campsite. At this point most of the rest of a group of Seventh Day Adventists and two more scout troops had arrived, making it REALLY crowded. Unwilling to look for another spot this late in the day, we elected to spend the night and were pleasantly surprised by how quiet it was.
We next planned to boat for a few days from Willow Springs up to the base of the Hoover Dam but weather reports were not favorable in terms of wind, so we decided to save that for another time and left for home. For a change of scenery we drove to Kingman, Arizona, on historic Route 66, passing through the artsy tourist trap of Oatman.
2010 Trip Reports:
The next morning we continued on to Lake Havasu City, where we stopped at the visitor center and took a quick look at the infamous London Bridge. With a bit of information in hand we located the Castle Rock take-out on the north end of town and drove up to locate the put-in. We secured a campsite at Moabi Regional Park on the California side of the river and circulated through the campground looking for shuttle possibilities. It was windy the day we arrived and several scout troops were camped in the same park waiting for a more tranquil day to canoe through Topock. We quickly realized that throwing money at a commercial shuttle would assure us the most freedom to enjoy our day as we wished, so we called Jerkwater Canoe and made arrangements with Dave to pick us up at Castle Rock the following afternoon.
Lunch time arrived and we found a secluded estuary to escape the crowds and the wakes. Many of these are signed and closed to motorized access. We never saw the bighorn sheep or the burros that others saw that day but we found evidence of current burro habitation on our little secluded beach. Wildflowers had been abundant along the road cuts and this particular stop featured a field of Ajo Lilies that aren't something we see in our higher desert. We were surprised that we didn't see more birdlife but perhaps some had already flown north for the summer. In addition to many garrulous grackles there was a nesting pair of Canadian Geese at our camp and we saw lots of coots and ducks in the Gorge. In our opinion, the Gorge was mediocre canyon country but we've been spoiled by our many canoe trips through Canyonlands and truly spectacular backpack trips through the narrow gorges of Utah and Arizona.
After a leisurely breakfast, we visited Needles to air up a low tire and pick up a few groceries. We camped that night at a private camp, Five Mile Landing, so we could easily access Topock Marsh in Havasu National Wildlife Refuge. Though there were no motor boats or jet skis buzzing around we still didn't see any wildlife or much birdlife on our 2 hour paddle around the slough. One white pelican, a few mergansers and the ubiquitous coots graced our path. There were numerous noisy grackles in the trees shading our campsite. While Bob was distracted one helped himself to his unguarded apple fritter.
After a leisurely night in the campground, we took our time rigging the next morning. By mid afternoon Bob was growing impatient and stuff got slammed into whatever space was left. The Ranger checked us out, accepting a rocket box in lieu of a fire pan, since there were only two of us and we didn't plan to have any fires except in an emergency situation. At 2:30 PM we finally climbed on the load and started downriver. While 25,000 cfs is a lot of water, there are usually escape routes along the banks to avoid the really huge waves. A bit intimidated by the big water, we gave it up 3 miles downriver at Horse Camp. The riverside part of this site was much smaller than the one we camped on a few years ago. There were still many flat spots up in the trees but being lazy we left everything at the raft and went hiking in search of the Legend Creek petroglyphs. It was a great hike on the riverside pack trail, but we stopped a bit short and didn't quite get there. Along the way we passed Stub Creek Rapid, the site of Susan's first flip. That was many years ago at 45,000 cfs flows but the rapid was still pretty big at the flow levels we experienced, with a huge lateral coming off the left bank. Our new guidebook portrays this rapid as dangerous at extreme water levels. When she flipped, there were huge laterals off both walls leading to a gigantic V-wave at the bottom.
The next morning we enjoyed a leisurely big breakfast of eggs in bagel holes, letting the day warm up before donning our wet suits and paddle jackets. The plan was to go to Lantz Bar if we successfully ran Susan's rapid, checking out the missed petroglyphs along the way. We ran the rapid cleanly but it was big enough that we struggled to reach the right bank and didn't find a convenient place to walk back to the petroglyphs. Continuing to Lower Lantz Bar, we stopped on a nice sandy beach and walked up to the cabins to monitor the Bing cherry ripeness. We scared up two deer, one a buck in full velvet and the other a limping doe. Back at the beach by 1:00 PM, we elected to continue downstream to Corey Bar. High water on the Main Salmon always makes knowing where you are difficult and decreases the chances of getting where you want to be. We missed Corey Bar and couldn't find anything below it with a nice sandy pull-in. Before we knew it we flew by a couple of outfitter camps and ran Salmon Falls. It was flooded out so that wasn't a big deal but floating downriver at 6-7 miles per hour, we whizzed right by the developed Barth Hot Tub. Eventually our luck turned and we found the wonderful huge sandy beach of Bruin Camp. We hung out there the rest of the day, much of which was spent watching our resident deer. She was pretty tame and circled us several times checking out our ropes, raft, lifevests, while keeping a watchful eye on us. When we realized we had her for a pet Susan named it Tootsie and Bob started taking pictures.
After running Hancock Rapid the next morning, we had a lot of quiet running downstream. The first section had few campsites and no sandy beaches at high water. Eventually we passed the excellent but heavily overused Magpie Creek campsite. The crux of our day was to be four rapids in a row below Allison Ranch: Sapp, Five-mile, Split Rock, and Little Stinker. All of them were tight and had huge waves. At times Bob felt he was rowing for our lives. Fortunately, we hit everything squarely and a slightly out of breath Bob relaxed when we cleared the last one. From there it was a leisurely float down to Lower Yellow Pine, just above Big Mallard Rapid. This campsite was excellent and a good trail existed to walk down to scout the rapid. While near Mallard Camp Susan took her second tumble of the day. She'd lightly sprained her wrist while retrieving the front rope in the morning. Then hiking she stepped on a log and the bark peeled off triggering a face plant and roll onto her back. When we returned to camp a group of four boats had landed at Upper Yellow Pine. The big treat of the day was to watch Heinz Sipple power by with his jet boat. After three days of clear skies, a massive black cloud arrived from the west, bringing rain showers, thunder, and lightning.
Breathing a sigh of relief we continued downriver to our camp just below the pack bridge, where a beautiful sandy beach awaited. The morning had been overcast and early afternoon brought light showers. We hiked to the Jim Moore homestead in rain gear. The slopes were covered with wildflowers: Pacific Trillium, Blue Penstemon, Honeysuckle, Lady Slipper, Lupine, Blue Violet, and even a small patch of domestic Irises. A huge, grassy, thigh-deep meadow surrounded the cabins. We walked some of the pack trail past this National Historic site and then across the pack bridge scaring up a deer on the far side. The sun broke through occasionally as the day wore on but at times it looked pretty ominous.
In a couple of weeks their company 
Hallelujah! A clear morning! A low threat on-river day was expected, so we intended to cover about 20 miles to make up for our short day and our lay-over day. Wildlife along the river had been pretty elusive, although one critter came out during the night and ate chunks out of Bob's favorite Alaska hat. The critter was probably after the sweat salt, though Susan claims the hat smelled bad enough to be mistaken for ripe road kill. A bald eagle overflew us as we lazily floated along past Mackay Bar and the Polly Bemis Ranch. We didn't stop at either as we would be back in approximately 10 days on the group trip. On one of the many bends in the river Susan spotted two bighorn ewes. Bull Creek was about as far as we wanted to go this day. The upper camp was large but sun baked. Fortunately the lower campsite had large Ponderosa Pines on a flat bench above a sandy beach pull-in. After setting up, we hiked up a brushy, nearly vertical hillside following deer or elk trails. We watched two groups pass by from our vantage point 500-700' above our camp. The hillsides had a plethora of spring wildflowers that we spent some time photographing. The steep descent was slow going and one of Susan's knees was bothering her by the time she reached flat ground. Bob's medical miracle knees seemed to do okay but then Susan was carrying the pack. The evening was wonderfully warm and jackets weren't needed until quite late.
Two big rapids to run! It rained a bit the previous night, but it must have had the moisture content of heavy dew, as nothing left out was particularly wet. The river fell close to a foot at our camp during the night. Again we took our time getting ready to launch. Two groups were scouting Chittam when we arrived and one more came along after we ran. We reached a good viewing spot just as two rafts ran. Both came down the long tongue and pulled hard to the right. They didn't even come close to hitting the wall on river left. We ran then and had no problem either. We pulled out below the Vinegar Creek boat launch ramp for a stretch before continuing downstream to the Carey Creek pack bridge, where we stopped for lunch. Susan rowed most of the 12 miles from there to Spring Bar.
After shopping for a day or so in Salmon we were ready to meet our friends for the group trip. We stopped at the North Fork cafe for an early breakfast and it became obvious from the crowd at the store and the trailer loads of river gear out front that a lot of folks were headed for Corn Creek. We dropped some last minute mail at the Post Office, bought a few things, and headed down the road. It took us 1-1/2 hours to get to Corn Creek, the last 10 miles being as rough as two weeks earlier. One bighorn sauntered across the road and a few miles later we came upon another group of four. We followed a commercial outfitter, eating dust most of the way from a van full of people and a pickup full of gear. The river seemed much tamer than two weeks before but when we checked at the ramp it was still "High" at 5' on the gauge (about 15,000 cfs). The campground was almost empty, so we secured a great site where we could leave all of our gear on the ground and eventually launch.
Around noon Corn Creek became a mad house with folks arriving in one vehicle after another with their piles of river gear. We were elated that we had beaten the rush. We rigged for several hours and put up our tarp in case there was an afternoon rainstorm, which there was. The river was about 30' below us on a 45 degree slope with a good trail to the water's edge. With 13 people, we didn't anticipate any problem putting our rafts in the water.
Before we even emerged from the truck, we could hear that everyone was up and ready to go. We shared pastries and other goodies for breakfast and loaded everyone into three vehicles, leaving the rest at Spring Bar. We drove out to Vinegar Creek boat launch ramp and unloaded our gear. While Mike gassed up the jet boat, we loaded Lou's rental raft and everyone's personal gear. Mike and Heinz were running together to Corn Creek to minimize rafter and resource disturbance along the way. Mike took his boat up into Chittam first and promptly buried it in a huge wave that the jet boat captains call being in the Green Room. The last time he did this was in '93 and apparently it blew out all the glass in the front of the boat. This time water just flowed all around the jet boat with the top cover diverting most of it over our heads. Fortunately the motor kept running and the boat powered through this wall of water, continuing up to the head of the rapid.
We awoke to a clear day but it wasn't obvious because low hanging fog covered the mountain tops. The tents and tarps were soaking wet so we decided to make a late morning start. The Ranger had checked out our required items the prior evening, so we only had to get past the campsite selection, group presentation, and permit issuance. Casey and Bob were back and forth talking to the Ranger from 8:30 AM - 9:30 AM. Fortunately we had no campsite conflicts with the other two groups launching. They had one between themselves and a coin toss decided who would modify their plans. Eventually campsite assignment was complete and all three parties were issued their permits.
Seven miles later, we arrived at the excellent Blackadar Campsite, a huge flat beach that had recently emerged from the high water. The cook team de jour prepared an excellent meal of local steelhead and pilaf with hot and sour soup as an appetizer and strawberry shortcake for dessert. After dinner we broke out the Polish horseshoes and played a couple of games. Gamer Peter was in his element and taught us a thing or two about a game he had probably never played. Susan was reading in our tent when over-tired little Hudson made repeated visits wanting to sneak in and go to sleep. This was a wonderful first day on the river.
Another relatively quiet 5 river miles brought us to Allison Ranch and the most active rapid area on the river. Rounding the corner to the ranch, Bob ran down the center of the river and ended up on some squirrelly water that almost flipped his raft sideways. He grabbed the side of the cooler and managed to stay in the bucking raft. Next came the really big stuff: Sapp, Five-Mile, Split Rock, and Little Stinker rapids. All of these were successfully run by the group but everyone had wide eyes when finished. At that point, we thankfully boated down to Lower Yellow Pine campsite just above Big Mallard Rapid. Another small group was in upper camp. In the afternoon folks either went hiking into the Mallard Creek drainage, some reaching a ranch and airfield 5 miles from the river, or lazed around the camp and read. Another great day on the river and another super campsite, 20 more river miles covered!
In the early morning hours, we were awakened by a loud crack followed by a resounding thud. The noise came from slightly downstream near Peter's tent. A huge dead pine tree had shed its top 2/3 and buried itself into the ground below. The trunk was at least 1-1/2 foot in diameter. We all paid a little more attention to tree proximity for the rest of the trip. Expecting a short day we took a late start, leaving around 11:00 AM. No one had problems reaching the far left side of the river for an easy Big Mallard run. We continued downstream with growing concerns about upcoming Elkhorn Rapid. Avoiding the hole at the bottom of this long rapid had not been easy two weeks ago. However, decreased flows and lower water levels seemed to make it easier to reach the right bank and avoid the hole in the third stage of this long, straight rapid. Lou was so concentrated on the right bank that he claimed to never see the monstrous mid-river hole.
An eagle overflew us as we floated downstream to the Jim Moore place, where most of us took a hike to the cabins and bridge across the river. Bob flushed out a large turkey and discovered that they definitely can fly. Hudson thought it worthy of pursuit until he was called off by his Mom and Dad. The wildflowers were not as plentiful as two weeks before. After hiking for close to an hour we returned to the boats for lunch. More uneventful miles found us at the Painter Mine, where we investigated a 1934 gravesite and all of the engines, trucks, and other gear left behind from this gold mining operation. The next stop was Buckskin Bill's (the Sipple place).
In the morning some of the group hiked back to Buckskin Bill's. Peter had an ice cream float while he was there. He also took a dunking in the stream crossing and came back to camp soaking wet. We floated down to Mackay Bar after lunch and toured their grounds. The black cherries were almost ripe and we sat under the tree eating while two eagles circled overhead. More rounds of ice cream floats were purchased and consumed. The proprietors were really friendly and now offer first-come, first-served free camping. There is a teepee to camp in, fireplace, etc. They offer hot showers for $10.00, a bit pricey but probably mighty attractive to some. Our Warren Creek campsite was definitely a high water spot. The boat beach was extremely rocky so Carl and Bob found a nice sandbar downstream that made a better campsite. Just as dinner finished a monstrous storm came in with thunder, lightning, and drenching rain. Everyone headed for the tents and that was the end of a fairly pleasant day.
Even after waiting for things to dry out we were still on our way by 11:00 AM. There was not much in the way of rapids until reaching Chittam. While scouting the rapid, we decided to have Bob and Susan run first so Lou could see the downstream quartering move that would be the key to getting by the big center wave train and the wall below. According to Scott, Bob entered a bit nonchalantly with not enough momentum. Bob thought he was a bit early hitting the laterals and took a big hit over the back of the raft but ended up exactly where he wanted to be to avoid the bigger stuff in the middle of the river. He was able to keep the boat pointed at the huge waves and ride their edges rather than taking the big ride over all the waves and into the bottom left wall. Susan apparently came in with good momentum and placement. The turbulence below then had its way with her a bit but she essentially had another of her fine runs. Lou now had two examples to emulate. However, to nicely confuse things, 4 rafts came downstream as Scott and he were working their way out of the scout eddy. This group did not scout. It was probably unnecessary for the first two oarsmen but the second two didn't appear to be as competent and might have benefited. One lost its oarsman near the start and the next one flipped right in front of Scott and Lou, so a rescue was going on as they entered the rapid. Scott made his usual nice run; it certainly helps to start rowing a raft at age nine. Unable to quite make the moves Lou ended up in the big wave train headed at the wall below.
We couldn't see it but his crew reported stalling on one of the huge waves and surfing back into a trough for a bit. During the surfing time Lou was ejected from the raft by an oar to the guts and they couldn't get him back. Casey and Carl mutually decided hanging on to stay in the raft might be a good idea and it finally broke free and continued downstream, exiting the rapid right side up with Carl at the oars. Scott picked a waterlogged Lou up at the end of the rapid. We continued on down to the pack bridge camp on river right near the Carey Bar take-out. Three of our group volunteered to bring the three vehicles down from the Vinegar Creek boat launch area where we started the trip. Ours was a beautiful flat campsite with shade trees. After setting up camp Carl, John, and Lou's boys went hiking up a trail to a mine site that was about three miles and a couple of thousand vertical feet away. The Marleys crossed the pack bridge and walked the road to the cherry trees. Both the black and red ones were ripe with one black cherry tree being especially tasty. Susan picked a cup full so folks in camp could taste them. After stuffing ourselves with Aztec pie for dinner and roasting marshmallows for S'mores, everyone called it an early night.
It remained cold with gathering overcast but it didn't rain our last morning. We reached Spring Bar in a bit less than two hours. The downriver speed decreased substantially at lower water levels, especially with a light upstream wind. Fortunately the rain held off and the sun shone most of the time through broken cloud cover. With a lot of help from Carl, Carolyn, John, Peter, Scott and Tennille we were able to get everything off the river, dried, and packed by 2:00 PM. We said our goodbyes and each headed off to new adventures. The scat machine at the Riggins Chevron station worked perfectly! Bob then went into long drive mode and headed for the civilization of Moses Lake. We arrived there at dusk and blundered around in the dark trying to find an RV park. We finally crawled into the back of the truck on a quiet side road and slept for six hours. After too much pressurized high-speed sorting and too much driving, we'd completed another extremely busy day!
