
Saturday, August 4th 2018
It’s 6:15 am. I’m in my sleeping bag in Upper Paradise Valley. I can hear the stream that hooks around the campground, as it approaches from the north, water molecules traveling west.
In our campground are more people than we have seen our whole trip. As I peer from under our tarp I can see scatters of colored tents tucked under the fir tree canopy. The air is cool. A hammock hangs near the river, and I notice as other campers begin to stir.
As we arise from our camp and get together, Rachel looks aghast at me.
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