[lumberjim]

Jen was really nice, and together, and funny. She and Troll were like soul mates. And they’d just met. It was neat to see that happen.

So, we waited around the parking lot for a little longer, just to see who else would turn up, but even after we had given up and set up camp down the canyon, only 4 or 5 more groups showed up. That was fine by me, though. We explored the canyon, finding, to our delight that there were Hot Springs in a couple of places. One pool in particular, was perfect bath temperature, 3 feet deep along the cliff that bordered one side, with a white sand bottom. Like it was made specifically for people to enjoy. We went skinny dipping with 6 or seven other people as soon as we found it. There was a girl who would climb the face of the cliff, and fall back into the water. Nekked. A little further down stream, we found a crystal clear cold spring bubbling up out of a pile of rocks that had a decided “man made” appearance about them. We would later find the creator of the little fountain living under a military parachute around a bend in the canyon. His name was Matthew. He had lived there for 9 months, and seemed at peace. He was tall, blonde haired, with a beard that hadn’t seen a trim for the entire 9 months. Clad only in shorts, and sandals, he had a surfers tan, and a lumberjack’s musculature. Clean living, friend. Clean living. He smoked a couple of bowls with us, and intimated that he had some plants growing up the canyon. His crop had been discovered by helicopters last year, but he had adjusted his strategy this time. We never got to tour his pot patch. We camped just down stream, and across the river from Matthew on a bank by a cliff wall. The Canyon, at this point was about 75 feet deep, and 100 feet across the bottom. The walls came straight down to the ground in this area, and the river was well shaded except in the middle of the day. Here’s our camp site: