The Crossing

The Crossing

The alarm went off at three a.m. Carl and I reluctantly rolled over. What a lousy sleep. We tried to go to bed after supper last night anticipating the early morning rise, but sun streaming in the tent, and heavy winds, kept us tossing and turning. Maybe too it was the possibility of seeing the river still being too high. With some concern, we walked over to have a look at the Macdonald. What if the levels hadn’t dropped? How long might it take? What if the weather continued to be warm? These thoughts rolled through my head as we approached the edge of the bluff that blocked the water from our view. It was good news… somewhat. It was lower, but still much higher than when we first crossed. But it seemed doable.

We were back with our full packs at 5:00 a.m. to give it a shot. Braid by braid, we inched along at an upstream diagonal. Some channels still looked nasty, so we would step our way to something safer. Finally, after a full hour in and out of the icy water, we took our sandals off on the other shore and warmed our numb feet. What a relief! We pulled into camp by 7:00 a.m., and had some fresh coffee to celebrate. After breakfast we were going to hit our cots back at the emergency shelter and catch a few winks. But did these plans ever change…

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