September '01 Newsletter

Another brutal Arizona desert summer is coming to a close, at least we hope it is. We began experiencing hot temperatures in May and there was no reprieve until late September. The forecasters claim that the monsoon season is now over and we are praying that they are correct. At least the nights are cooling off. As usual, over the summer we made several escapes to the higher northern elevations.

Susan generally tries to visit her family in Minnesota at least once a year and July is one of the best times to be there. This year, she coordinated with her brother who lives in Nevada to visit at the same time so all five siblings could be together. Kevin is the quintessential great white fisherman and drove home with what may have been a couple hundred pounds of frozen fish in his cooler. The family Walleye Pike fry in her folks' back yard is becoming a summer tradition. It was a wonderful relaxing time for her and in addition to enjoying family she got to spend a day and night with an intimate group of her closest friends from grade school through graduation. Next year she plans to attend her 30-year high school reunion and to man a float in the July 4th parade.

While Susan was gone, Bob took a weeklong trip back to London, Ontario with his mother, who had not been there in close to 30 years. Since his mom is a physically fit, healthy, 85-year-old with short-term memory challenges, traveling with her was interesting. It was a great experience for both of them and Alma's three remaining sisters were delighted to see her. They spent most of their time in London visiting with relatives but still visited Niagara Falls and Bob's 90-year-old aunt/godmother in Hamilton. Unfortunately near the end of their trip, while they were visiting one of Bob's cousins, mom stumbled and fell into a ditch breaking a small bone in her wrist. Six weeks later the cast has been removed and she seems to be doing well.

We recently returned from celebrating the wedding of our younger son, Scott near Pinetop, Arizona. Fifteen members of both families, including Uncle Bob Finkbine, got together for dinner at a Mexican restaurant the night before the wedding. Tennille's mother, with the help of extended family, did an extraordinary job of putting the entire affair together and it was lovely. Tennille made an exquisite bride and we are thrilled to claim her as a daughter! When the weather didn't cooperate, we went on to plan B and moved the ceremony from an outdoor campground to the White River Mormon Church. A wise decision, since it was raining cats and dogs by the time it started. Our 6-year-old granddaughter Allison looked like a fairy princess in her flower girl role. It was delightful to spend quality time with her. A light dinner in the fellowship hall of the church was followed by a dance and reception at the Hondah Casino, where the bride and groom had a honeymoon suite. We danced into the night to a combination of country and rock performed by Apache Spirit, a popular local band consisting of Tennille's brother's in-laws. The music was good and everyone had fun. By 10:30 PM or so we'd had enough and returned to our motel, leaving the others to dance until after midnight.

In less than two weeks we will be off for the Canyon for an 18-day raft trip with a group from Maine who we met on the Internet. Since they had two people walking out, Tom Jensen and Deb Campbell are joining us for the second half. We patched a few wear spots on the boat this week and are trying to prepare a little each day to avoid pre-trip stress. We expect to be around town for the most part through the holidays and into the first couple of months of 2002. If any of you are tired of snow, cold, or whatever, give us a call or stop in for a visit.

2001 Trip Reports:

North Rim of Grand Canyon (7/10/01-7/17/01):

With a few free days in hand, we decided to escape the abominable Phoenix heat by visiting the North Rim. Substituting 70-degree days at 9000 feet for 100-degree Phoenix days seemed an excellent idea. We hadn't been there for several years and had a number of things that we wanted to do. The most important of these was to find a route down to the 10-window ruin off Point Sublime. Bob has known it was there for over 20 years and we've made a number of attempts to find it in the past. The last time we camped at Point Sublime we visually located it with binoculars but didn't have time to make the descent.

We drove to Jacob Lake the first night and were rewarded with the joy of sleeping in 50-degree night air. The next morning we filled our 6-gallon water jugs and drove the logging roads to Swamp Point. Bob hadn't been there since he took a 30 foot fall on a mid-80's Sierra Club trip and had to be helicoptered off the North Bass Trail. Since then there has been a major fire and he was curious to see if the Roosevelt hunting cabin was still on the saddle. The road to the trailhead was slow but passable. We set up camp with our truck perched beside a precipitous drop with fabulous views. Huge Ponderosa pines surrounded us and shielded us from the hot sun.

Since the day was still young we walked down the North Bass Trail to the cabin and visited the spring below the Coconino Sandstone. The slopes in the Kaibab and Coconino layers were heavily burned and scrub was regrowing but the big trees on the saddle and the cabin were totally free of fire damage. We played some cards in the shade of the cabin and read the sign-in log. Bob accidentally left his sunglasses on the inside table as we left, which resulted in both of us returning to the cabin and him making a quick run to the spring to locate them. Since the afternoon was heating up we returned to our rim side campsite and lounged around watching the clouds roll by.

With a full day planned, we were up and off to an old Rainbow Plateau trail the next morning. Many years ago this trail was marked with ribbons and signed on the Swamp Point Road but when we arrived all traces were gone. We parked our vehicle near the map location for Swamp Lake but couldn't it. Unworried Bob sighted what he thought was the right valley and rim location and took off into the brush. After a short thrash we reached the rim and took a beautiful 2-mile rim walk to Violet Point. We were blessed with spectacular views of upper Shinumo Creek and the colorfully named Abyss portion of the Grand Canyon. King Arthur's Castle, Modred Abyss, Guinevere Castle, Lancelot Point, Elaine Castle, Merlin Abyss, Holy Grail Temple were just a few of the prominent features below us.

Our next target of opportunity was the Point Sublime ruin site. Bob knows the old forest roads well but hadn't been on many of them for over 20 years. There is a direct route from the Swamp Point Road to Point Sublime by way of Kanabownits Spring. If the road was clear, we would be driving for a much shorter time on bad roads. He wasn't sure if it would still be open but we charged on down anyway. Fortunately, it was in pretty good shape and we eventually joined the Park fire road coming from the North Rim facilities. We continued out to the Point and enjoyed a lovely afternoon with 360-degree panoramic views of the Grand Canyon from our Government Issue picnic tables.

An early breakfast and we were off for the granaries. This is where a GPS would have been useful. Looking at them from practically a mile away on the Point, we knew where they were but the Point Sublime Road was separated from the Rim by a steep climb and a quarter of a mile or so. It took three climbs up the hill from different places on the road before we finally located the place to descend. Each false attempt ate up an hour or more. A big cairn and obvious deer trail made this descent fairly easy. The ruins were everything we expected. There was a lower Kiva, an upper series of storage ruins, and a virtually unreachable defensive shelf with more walls upon it. This was one of the best Anasazi sites we've visited in the Grand Canyon.

Having met our objectives, we decided to spend a day at the North Rim. A big burn occurred up there last year and we were interested in seeing its impact. We drove into the village on the rough fire road and did the normal visitor things there. After a short walk we drove to Point Imperial. Imagine our surprise when we found frequent burn scarring along the way and most of the Point's huge trees left as lifeless stumps. We were reminded of the devastation inflicted upon Yellowstone by their big burn. After lunch we drove out to Angel's Window through additional stretches of burned forest (since this trip there has been another large burn on the Walhalla Plateau). Rain was falling and lightning was scaring people off the trails as we did our Grand Canyon tourist thing. Eventually we tired of it and returned to the campground for a picnic dinner. The plan was to leave for home after the outdoor 8:00 PM Ranger program. Since it was raining there was almost no one there when we arrived. We had concerns that the program would be cancelled and that we should have taken in the indoor program. Fortunately the Interpretive Ranger was a persistent kind of guy. He put on a pretty interesting program for the 20-30 people who eventually turned up.

Camped near Flagstaff in the forest on the backside of Mt. Humphreys by midnight, a good night's sleep found us bleary eyed the next morning with goats, horses, and other feral life surrounding us. You just don't know where you will end up when you choose a campsite in the dark. The family beside us was moving from Phoenix to Alaska and had a horse trailer full of family with them in addition to themselves and two kids. Really nice folks, but a little out of their element, expecting flowing streams around the Flagstaff area. They were having some difficulty figuring out how they were going to water their menagerie. We gave them what water and ice we had before leaving for home.

Participants:

Susan Groth & Bob Marley

Weminuche, Colorado Backpack (8/4/01-8/11/01):

We met at West Fork Campground just northeast of Pagosa Springs. All had arrived by 4:00 PM and we visited for a time before making dinner. It turned out the Seattle folks had been backpacking for 6-7 days on the northern side of the Weminuche range. They were enjoying the sunny day in the campground, as they had been wet for most of the prior week. Apparently Colorado has been experiencing a wet summer with lots of afternoon monsoon activity. After eating a great Mexican dinner we discussed the next day's shuttle and hiking plans. It was decided to leave three of our cars at the West Fork Trailhead parking and use the remaining vehicles to reach the Turkey Creek Trailhead. After everyone went to bed Bob tripped over a barricade in the dark, partially catching himself but wrenching his chest muscle.

The next morning dawned clear. While a hearty egg breakfast was being prepared, four of our group did the car shuttle. With an early start, even with a detour to a wrong trailhead, we reached the correct one and were hiking by 9:00 AM. There was limited parking because Turkey Lake seems to be the destination of most of the commercial and non-commercial horse packers After parking our cars on the side of the road, we saddled up our heavy packs and took off up the trail. We soon discovered most of the usual signage was missing from this trail. This was a minor problem for the two of us as there were frequent trail splits and we didn't know where everyone had gone. After a few anxious moments we caught up with them. Len had been using his GPS with internal mapping to make the right moves at each waypoint.

Continuously climbing, we trudged up to the first creek crossing for an early lunch. Bob's sore chest muscle made him unable to breathe deeply but we'd covered half the distance and the first day is usually the difficult one. As we approached the second major crossing it became obvious the organizers weren't leading. Susan was battling altitude problems and Bob still wasn't getting enough air. After 9 miles and a lot of climbing, we decided to call it a day at a soggy but reasonably flat creek-side campsite. It had been raining by now and dinner had to be prepared under the large group tarp, as it would be for the next four days. Fortunately this tarp was large enough to cover us while cooking and eating.

The next morning was cloudy but rain-free. We prepared our first trail breakfast and evaluated our situation. Susan had not slept all night and had severe altitude headaches. It seemed inadvisable for her to go up another 1000 feet to Turkey Lake and sick as she was, she was unlikely to be doing any exploring up there. Reluctantly she decided to leave us and return to the vehicle. The new plan was for her to take the last day's meals with her so we would not be overloaded and re-enter the wilderness by the West Fork trail, meeting us for the last night or two. The rest of us continued uphill to Turkey Lake, arriving in great time. Fortunately many of the horse packers left that morning and a great campsite was available for us. By this time Bob was laboring and not into even pack-less exploring about the lake. Most of the group hiked the surrounding high country for several hours or fished in the afternoon. The entertainment turned out to be a couple of good old cowboys camped in close proximity with their uncle and several horses. When Bob talked to one of them at mid-day he already smelled like a brewery. By dinner time our neighbors were in fine fettle. We looked up from cooking to see two towering pillars of flame in their campsite. Apparently they had added gas to the fire shortly before and this inferno was devouring their nice kitchen tarp. Nothing seemed to faze them as they sat there and watched it burn. Earlier in the day, they had invited UnSun for a steak dinner if she would come alone. I guess she was lucky to have declined their offer. Our meal was finished without incident as we watched the continuing antics beside us.

Under the kitchen tarp now, Bob slept warmly in his subzero down bag; Susan had taken the tent out to save him some weight. However he was quite unhappy about mice running around him and the food all night, and his chest wasn't any better. The early morning air was clear and cold, about 35 degrees. This may have been our hardest day. We climbed to over 12,000 feet and spent much of the hiking day ridge-running at this elevation. Eventually we descended into the East Piedra Valley and reached a nice campsite. As usual it rained while we cooked but the rest of the day was pretty clear and we had beautiful views of the surrounding mountainous area while making the arduous cross-country hike. Jim took pity on Bob that evening and moved him into his tent. To avoid the mice damage problem Jim and Bob rigged two bags high enough that they couldn't reach any food. All of our food suspensions were pitiful so it was a good thing we didn't see any bears in our campsites (there had been a mother and cub in the West Fork campground so they were out there somewhere).

The next day we split into two groups and continued up to Piedra Pass. Four of us went Piedra direct, which was about a 400-foot climb in a couple of miles. The rest of the group continued up a side canyon to the Continental Divide and then over to the pass, about twice as far. Arriving early, Bob found a majestic campsite perched above the pass under towering cliffs beside a small lake. Unfortunately, he was exhausted. Due to his shallow breathing, congestion was setting in and he was running out of air with the slightest exertion. Our long route hikers arrived about noon for our typical trail lunch. Since it was still relatively clear, most of the group decided to climb Piedra Peak, which loomed over our campsite. According to those who eventually made it to the top what we saw from camp was actually a false summit. Bob hiked a couple of miles to check out water diversion ditches in the pass. We had decided that the campsite was probably not a lightning target due to there being no topped trees. However, as we prepared dinner we were treated to a lightning blast with virtually no time between the light flash and sound. Mike was facing the hit and told us the bolt was blue and violet in color, had a rough edge (not a perfect straight line), and appeared to have a thickness or diameter of about 2 feet. It struck close to a snag by his tent, within 200 feet of where everyone was huddled under the tarp. Immediately afterwards we smelled ozone and a driving rain began that eventually cleared the air.

This campsite was so beautiful that we decided to layover. UnSun was having difficulty eating or sleeping due to particularly painful canker sores in her mouth. Everyone except her and Bob climbed to 13,000 foot plus South River Peak. Every time Bob got up he was instantly winded, so he read all day, hoping to get enough of whatever was needed to allow him to climb 400 feet up to the West Fork Pass and hike on down. Much of this day was clear with only a short afternoon shower. We played some cards after everyone returned and were able to cook dinner in the open for the first time.

A fine clear day allowed us to get an early start and charge off for Rainbow Hot Spring, our next campsite. While still winded, Bob made it up to the pass and did pretty well coming down into West Fork of the San Juan. This was a long morning hike with a particularly rigorous descent of over a thousand feet just before we reached camp. Susan was there to greet us with stories to tell. People lounged in the hot spring for a while and then we had lunch. More hot spring time, card playing, and reading followed in the afternoon. Everyone seemed to be delighted with 9000 feet elevation where the air was denser and our bodies seemed to work better. The campsite was spacious with plenty of flat areas to place tents on. A forest crew had just been in to clean it up so it was close to immaculate.

Susan regaled us with the story of her stream crossing on the way down the Turkey Creek Trail. She took off her boots at the first crossing she reached, planning to throw them across, but hit her leg and the boots ended up in the middle of the stream. By the time she recovered them she had bruised her foot and was wet to the rib cage. She struggled down to the truck, arriving exhausted. She then drove the truck to the West Fork campground and slept for four hours, got up with a stiff neck, ate a quickly prepared cheese crisp, and slept for 12 more hours. The next day she still had a stiff neck but the altitude headaches subsided. However, that night she slept for another 14 hours. During the four days we were gone she visited Pagosa Springs and camped in the campground at night eating a steady diet of cheese crisps. Apparently the sleep pulled her around because she later hauled 40 plus pounds of group and personal gear 5 miles to the hot spring in 2 ½ hours. Since we laid over at the pass she was on her own at the hot spring for one full day. She had lots of people to talk to the first day but camped by herself that night. Never having camped alone before, she apparently spent a lot of time thinking every small sound might be a bear. By early morning, cold and alone, she almost hoped a bear would show up, so she could kill it, gut it, and climb inside like the old buffalo hunters were fabled to do. She was glad to see us arrive the next day.

Getting up at our usual 6:30 AM we were off for the vehicles by 8:00 AM and all arrived there by shortly after 10:00. We returned to the campground to sort out our stuff and make lunch. Two members of our group had to get going quickly so we took the ubiquitous group pictures and sent one of our vehicles off to shuttle them to their cars and collect the other car at the Turkey Creek Trailhead. By noon, lunch was done and most of the group headed for the showers at a close-by dude ranch. We packed up all of the group gear, got rid of the garbage, and then headed for town.

This was a great trip in truly beautiful country. As in the past, the flowers were abundant and an earthy sweet smell of pine essence, flowers, and decaying vegetation filled the air. The hiking was excellent in 50-70 degree weather and the evenings were not so cold that anyone complained much. After organizing three backpacks in the Weminuche, we would have to say this was definitely the wettest one. According to the Seattle folks, we should be happy that we did not do the trip a week earlier when it was even wetter. Must have been like home for them.

Participants:

Dave Dennett, Susan Groth, John Justice, Jim Kelley, Bob Marley, Len & UnSun Roughgarden, Mike Scholey, Joe Schuster, & Lloyd Warren

Cataract Canyon Trip (9/3/01-9/10/01):

Since we had arranged through the Blanding Chamber of Commerce to pick up a shuttle driver on our way through town, we drove only as far as Bluff the first night. We got a great night's rest at the Sand Island San Juan put-in. A nearly full moon illuminated the river for us. Minimal bug problems encouraged us for the upcoming low water trip.

Early the next morning, we picked up our driver and drove to the Potash put-in just outside of Moab. By 10:00 AM we had our gear on the ramp and within an hour we were on the river. The Colorado flow was 3500 cfs so it was a bit slow but numerous sandbar campsites had emerged. With continuous rowing we covered about 25 miles, stopping around 6:30 PM, a couple of miles below Lathrop Canyon. Our first camp was gorgeous but unfortunately it was in full sun early the next morning.

The second day out we rowed down to a great campsite at the exit of the Loop, on the left near river mile 6. Off the river much earlier, we hid out under tree cover on a great beach. Behind our campsite, we searched without much success for routes up through the ledges. After dinner, we hiked upriver to a large drainage that had routes up through at least the first layers. When the shadows grew too long we returned to camp. The high walls and trees made for a beautiful cool morning so we hung out until noon. By then two commercial groups had caught up with us. Holiday with a large group of squealing young teenage girls lunched above us on a sandbar while Oars lunched below in a shady spot under a riverside overhang.

We expected day three to be fairly easy as we only planned on rowing to Brown Betty Rapid. Unfortunately it was extremely windy and we struggled from the campsite sign-up box to the head of the first rapid. By the time we reached the huge sandy camp on river right, the wind was howling and sand was blowing everywhere. After a quick assessment, we moved down to the head of the second rapid where some Tamarisk served as a windbreak. From dinner time on there was an almost continuous bug hatch going on near our tent, but neither of us got any bites. We enjoyed watching the bats and dragonflies feasting and again had pretty moonlight on the cliffs.

The 1000 cfs of water added by the Green after the confluence appeared to be negligible. Since we signed up for two nights in Cataract, we had an easy day planned with our next camp at Big Drop Beach. None of the rapids were expected to be much until we reached Range Creek and Mile Long rapids. From there we expected the river to be technical with lots of rock dodging. The map showed Big Drop Beach to be in the early afternoon sun so we found a shady spot on river left just above Range Creek and hung out for a while. The Holiday trip eventually passed by but there was no other traffic on the river. We gave them some space but caught up with them about half way through Mile Long, where they were scouting and running a rapid with a tricky boulder field entry. We waited for them to finish and followed downstream. The next thing we knew everyone was parked on one side or the other and a raft was tripoded over a rock in the middle of the river. Since the rescue seemed like it was going to take them some time and they had 7-8 rafts in their group, we continued downriver.

The only rapid we found problematic was the last one at the island above Big Drop Beach. We came down on it not knowing what to expect and found a ledge across the river with a really nasty hole on the left side. We moved towards the middle but still ate more of the hole than we liked. It was obvious from downstream that we should have been a bit further to the right for a clean run. We floated down to a beautiful beach with acres of driftwood. We set up camp near the river and retreated up the bank to some shade trees at the high water line. About this time the Holiday group could be seen scouting the last rapid of Mile Long. Knowing where to position their rafts, they all seemed to have clean runs.

The next morning we arose early and walked about a mile downstream to scout the Big Drops. #1 was very clean and just a fun run. #2 was a bit technical but it was fairly easy to come in on the left side of the big boulder in the middle of the river, avoid some pour-over rocks, and then push back towards the middle. #3 was very boney at the entry. We followed the eddy all the way, going from far left to almost the right bank. The normal chute had rocks through its entire length. While trying to get entry position we popped an oar but the low water levels gave us sufficient time to get it back on while we bounced off another rock. By the time we spilled down the tongue we had both oars back in service and we were able to maneuver around the other rocks at the bottom. There were a couple more good-sized rapids, including a big one at Imperial Beach but all too soon the fun was over. We passed a courteous jet skier who appeared to make it through the rapids to the base of Big Drop #3. From what Oars told us, upstream travel through the rapids is not allowed but that didn't seem to stop him. The rapids had a totally different look since our last Cataract trip was at a flood level of 36,000 cfs.

With diminishing flow, we continued on to our campsite at Clearwater Canyon. The Oars group was also there having lunch and hiking to the clear pools upstream. Fortunately there was a sandy beach at the mouth to camp on, though the beach was not too useful for bathing since there was deep slimy sediment on the bottom. The next morning we hiked up-canyon as far as we could go without climbing, eventually coming to a couple of hundred-foot dry fall. When we got back to the beach a fairly heavy downstream wind was blowing so we decided to get on the river and take advantage of it. With the wind behind us, and some current, Bob rowed to Dark Canyon in 2 hours. Susan took over and rowed a couple of more miles but the current was barely perceptible and the heavy work was starting. Bob took over again and rowed us around Mille Craig Bend. As the sun was setting we found ourselves with upstream wind gusts and no real place to camp. This didn't really concern us much as we expected to float out one evening anyway and we were a day ahead of schedule.

We tied up to the bank and prepared dinner under our shade umbrella. After an hour or so the wind gusts ceased and we continued rowing downstream to find a campsite on the Lake where we could stay for a day. By taking turns we were under the bridge by about 10:00 PM. Since the Lake was down, the campsites we knew about were all far above the current water level. To make it worse every time Susan got off the raft she sunk up to her knees in stinky mud. Eventually we gave up on the right side and rowed across to the left side where we found a sand-covered rock ledge just above the Lake. We set up our tent in the dark, grateful to have a good place to sleep and all of the hard work behind us.

The next morning was clear and it was obvious that our site would be very hot in the afternoon. We ate breakfast, took a bath, and rowed the last mile to Hite Marina. Just around the corner from the marina we found a beautiful camp on sand-covered slickrock. Susan was pining for ice cream and Bob for a paper so we took off on foot to visit the marina and general store. We struck out on the paper but found delectable ice cream bars at the general store. Under the umbrella of our collapsible picnic table, we spent a beautiful day people watching, playing cards and reading on the shores of Lake Powell.

Our shuttle driver arrived early the next morning but we had been even earlier and had all of the rafting gear unloaded and the boat collapsed when he arrived. It took us an hour or so to load up but soon we were homeward bound.

All in all, we had great weather with 90-degree days and 60-degree nights. Although there were some clouds that offered welcome shade during the day there were no significant rainstorms. We never had bug troubles, for which we were extremely thankful. Canadian Geese and numerous flocks of ducks were migrating south. We only saw one deer along the way and one herd of bighorn near Sheep Canyon, of course!

Participants:

Susan Groth & Bob Marley

2002 Whitewater Rafting Trips:

Most private raft trips require a permit from a regulatory agency. Anyone who is interested in non-commercial rafting next year needs to prepare and timely mail their applications in December and early January so they will be included in the launch lottery for each river of their choice. Most of these agencies do not accept applications after mid-January. Since you travel with us regularly, you probably realize by now that we have no special access to private rafting permits. Unless someone obtains a permit, it isn't possible to organize a group trip. This year no one drew a permit on the rivers we were interested in running so we didn't organize a single group trip. When this happens we have to boat by ourselves on last minute cancellation permits or join someone else's trip.

We postpone all raft trip organization efforts until the end of February or early March, when the results of the lottery draws are known. Since only a handful of us have suitable skills, rafts, and organizational experience to carry out these trips, the most important thing others can do is make every effort to draw a launch date. If you help with the permit process, you will receive a letter announcing who was successful, what launch dates were drawn, and how the trip is being organized. To make sure your name is on that first-contact list, send us a copy of any permit applications you submit. This approach usually gives everyone 2-3 months notice for planning his or her summer vacations. We really enjoy boating with all of you so we're hoping everyone will be more active this year during the application period.

For whitewater rafting permit requirements on other rivers, see our Western River Information page at http://www.kwagunt.net/riverinfo.html or the copy that has been included in this newsletter. On most trips the person with the permit is obviously the first choice to go; the people with gear and experience are the second choices; those who helped by applying for permits are next; and anyone else who might be interested will be invited if any space remains.

Our Free Time for Rafting in 2002

Best Launch Date	Suggested Rivers
We'll make time for it!	Grand Canyon You have to a low waitlist number to get a cancellation date. If you have a launch date, we want to join your trip and will help you in any way we can.
May 20-June 3	San Juan (Bluff to Clay Hills) (435) 587-1544
June 8-June 22	Middle Fork Ranger District (435) 636-3622

General Trip Information:

We must receive your deposit and a completed Q/AR form, for you to be considered for inclusion on one of our trips. If you are planning to join a future trip and you haven't done this yet, please do it now. If a trip is popular enough to require a waitlist, we will use five criteria to determine who goes. Initial preference will be given to those who have a current emailing application on file, have paid any required trip deposit, and have promptly returned the necessary Q/AR. If this isn't sufficient, we then compare trip deposit dates and lastly Q/AR postmark dates.

We continue to send information to travel friends using email. If you want to be the first to know what's happening, be sure to send us your email address and keep it current. We'll also continue to communicate unique travel opportunities by 'special mailings' to those who travel with us frequently and who have a emailing application on file.

Best of luck in your adventures, whatever they are, and wherever they may be. We hope you can join a trip soon so we can again spend time traveling with you.

Susan & Bob

Updated on Thursday, December 8, 2006 @ 4:30 MST © 1995-2006 by Robert R. Marley