A Socotwa Trip Log

              Eventually, the war became too rough. Betty was pulled into the river and held under accidentally; Glad was getting mighty cold; and Merlin lost part of his finger as he tried in vain to retain a large can which was his last weapon. When his crew shouted for the nurse, a cease-fire was spontaneously declared; and the battle ended as quickly as it had begun. The Cal Bears had quite obviously won,  though nobody but the Cal crews would admit it. The nurses quickly aided the injured, and all able bodied bailed for the rest of the trip.

Farther downstream we began to make a landing at another unnamed canyon. As the boats approached, however, the mosquitoes in the brush were stirred up; and as clever as their brethren upstream, they attacked en masse. Pushing onward we landed; but since the canyon could barely be even glimpsed through the gray cloud of flying insects, and Don was literally being eaten alive (as were many others), a vote was taken. We left with a Power Ten. Lee, Merly, Ted, Bob, Fred, Merlin, Johno, and some others eventually recovered from the sad disappointment of not touring the canyon.

At Kane Creek, after a minor back eddy, our last
camp on the river was pitched. We immediately began to clean
up our boats and all other equipment so that it could be loaded onto the truck when it arrived the next day. The sun was very hot, and there was no place in the shade that wasn't full of mosquitoes too, and there was work to be done, so we worked. Each boat was-scrubbed and set up to dry. All the equipment was sorted, checked in, returned when necessary, and finally bed rolls were prepared for the night. By this time, the supper call came: we roused all those sleeping in the hammock-like drying boats, and ate a dinner from the old Southwest (appropriately): tamales, Spanish rice, chili, and milk made from the worst water on the trip. It all vanished. So did the vanilla-cocoanut pudding.

  As daylight slowly faded, stormy clouds appeared from the west, and we watched in fascination as they approached, shedding rain as they came. But they passed by as we felt only a few drops. From the tops of Pancake Mountain and Cone Butte behind the camp, one could see far out over the plains. In the changing light of storm and night, the ethereal spectacle of the river, rock, and butte, plain, and sky was so exquisite it defies description at all.

On the banks of the muddy Colorado, Dave officiated at the "marriage" of Norma and Lee who lived happily ever after they narrowly escaped being thrown into the river.
                                                                                                                                                                                                           The author denies all accusations of prejudice.