Mid May. A day off, which we quickly turned into two. Three backpacks, one van, one tent and one stove (and some other things). It began innocently enough.
How were we to know the creeks would be flooded with ice melt? (Oh I don't know, Sam, maybe the snow still on the mountains, the temperature being about 60 degrees, the soaked trail, a season commonly referred to as SPRING...)
The intrepid explorers cross a flooded beaver dam, two of them forced to cross in their underwear.
But what do you do if you can't find your pants afterward? Continue on valiantly, of course.
The end.
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I like the narrative. That picture of Scott should definitely surface in about twenty years...when he's up for promotion or something...
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