This morning started a little different.
I woke up and realized during the course of the night both Justin and I slid about 2 feet down nearly to the edge of the grassy ledge we were on. The ledge was about 12 feet high and dropped steeply to a rocky beach. Basically, a fall would insure serious injury, but probably not death.
The ledge had a gentle slope. Just gentle enough to try and coax us to severe injury. Life lesson number one: beware of falling to painful injuries when you are many, many hours from help.
We had a casual start to the day. Ate a hot breakfast. At least Justin and I. Brandon bartered away his scrumptious Mountain House Egg meal for a free meal at the Mexican food joint in Alpine. Margaritas were part of the deal.
About 10 we finished packing up and were ready to get on the River. Before we did, we had to filter some water. We had consumed the 2 gallons we each purchased as well as the gallon or so we brought from home. I say we, and I mean myself and Justin. We both agreed that Brandon was likely hoarding water and only claiming to be out.
Well, Bobski had suggested that we allow the water to settle over night. This way, some of the silt would be at the bottom and we could filter the clean supernatant. Well, nothing really settled. We began pumping. After two gallons of water we noticed our filter was definitely at a decreased flow rate.
We sampled our filtered water and it tasted like the ocean. So here's life lesson number 2. If someone tells you the water isn't filterable, always err on the side of not having to drink foul tasting water.
Todays scenery was some of the prettiest. Beaches covered with thick bamboo and grass. Very green, which contrasted nicely against the red canyon walls and brown river water.
A couple miles down the river we finally encountered people. Well, we encountered their canoes anyway. We realized this must be the legendary "Fern Canyon." We beached our kayaks and started exploring. Soon we ran into a guide from another trip. He asked if we were camping there and we said, "not yet, but we will later." He said cool and began preparing a delicious lunch of fresh fruits, meats, and cheeses. We lusted.
I guess he noticed our lustful gazes and saw Brandon fingering his saber. Rather than offer us food he suggested, "you should explore the canyon, its a really special place." He then told us we could hike as far up the canyon as we could imagine. We should have known better.
As it turns out, Fern Canyon is a pretty cool place. Lots of scrambling up rock thats been polished smooth like glass and some clear spring fed pools. This provided us an opportunity to filter some non-terrible tasting water. We rejoiced. The slick rock offered us an opportunity to severely injure ourselves. We didn't rejoice.
On our climb up, we met a group of teenage kids led by 2 guides who couldn't have been much older. They had their ancient, out of shape parents lagging behind. We stopped and made small talk with the guides while I made fun of everyone shoes. Chuck's, Deck shoes, and Chacos.
As we scrambled up Fern Canyon we came to a large pool that appeared to have another pool above it, though we couldn't see for sure and were uncertain if the canyon became impassable or continued. We finally managed to coax Brandon into climbing up and seeing if we could advance further or if we had reached the end of the line. This required coaxing because it involved getting in the water near some concealed ledges. Brandon has a powerful fear of all things icky.
He scrambled up and assured us there was tons more canyon to explore. He goaded us with motivating words like "bitches" and "pussies." Soon, Justin caved in and scrambled up. At this point it was a matter of manhood, I had to continue despite my gut instinct telling me it would be a waste of time and that there was at most, 10 yards more canyon to explore before it was impassable; however, if this were the case Justin would almost certainly be beating Brandon for his deception.
Well, I must give Brandon credit. And Justin as well. First, Brandon was full of shit. There was a small pool and then a sheer wall about 4 feet away. He did a great job of selling it though. And kudos to Justin for climbing up. Seeing that he had been duped by Brandon but letting none of it show on his face. Needless to say I was not happy.
We scrambled back down the canyon. On our way we encountered the guide who sheepishly admitted we made it as far as we could. We briefly explored some good sized caves and then headed back down to the HUGE flat, grass covered landing at the mouth of Fern Canyon where we planned to camp.
At this point, Justin said we should leave and go find shade because the area we wanted to camp would DEFINITELY be sunny in an hour. We eventually settled down on some piece of shit rocky wash at the base of the canyon.
Soon I heard voices.
Raiders approached.
Brandon and I scrambled to go claim our spot. We were too late. Luckily, it was a group of women who said, "Its a big place, there's probably room for all of us." We agreed. We threw down our stuff about 50 feet from their camp and walked to see if there were another spot further away. Soon, they sent an emissary.
"Hey guys." She said with her annoying Midwest accent. "We were really hoping for some privacy on this trip. So, could you move. There's a beach just up the river" as she pointed to a rocky, exposed gravel bar. She finished with, "I'm sure you're nice guys, but, we just wanted some privacy."
As I removed my hat to reveal my Mohawk I replied with, "Well, actually we're assholes."
Brandon fondled his Saber.
The chick put on an "oh shit" face.
After about 15 seconds of her looking ugly and laughing uncomfortably while Brandon and I stonewalled it, we picked up our shit and left.
Justin received a severe tongue lashing from both Brandon and I for his lack of foresight and his failed prediction that our desired camp spot would be in the sun--because it spent the entire day in shade.
I headed up river to find a camp spot while Justin and Brandon filled up on water. I found a spot about a quarter mile downstream from the lesbians. It afforded excellent views of their campsite, was on a flat, grassy ledge, and was pretty much another bad ass camp site similar to the previous nights, but with out the slope.
We spent the rest of the day staring at the lesbians through our binoculars and waving to get their attention so that we could be certain they knew we were looking at them.
We watched one Kayak up river. She was wearing some ridiculously skimpy bathing suit that revealed her cellulite laden thighs and the majority of her cellulite laden ass. She ran into a husband and wife in a canoe and began to preach to them about the subtleties of whitewater kayaking from her rented kayak.
We then watched two others head up river in a canoe. They were unable to paddle against the current and were forced into a little area of backflow that didn't communicate with the other end of the river. As they struggled to drag their canoe over the gravel bar I offered them some advice, "You should have gone on the other side."
They gave us a "No Shit" look. As Justin and I watched them struggle and drag their canoe Justin confessed, "I would have carried that for them if they hadn't been such bitches earlier."
There's a life lesson for all you lesbians desiring privacy. Don't be bitches.
That evening was rather uneventful minus one UFO sighting and several loud drunken outbursts from Fort Lesbia. We went to sleep knowing that tomorrow we'd be enjoying margaritas and Mexican food.
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