Question:
Whose rbp sig file is that that reads "The best is yet to come"?
I *believe* that be Blakely LeCroix’ (RailTramp) sig that yer referring to. Keep it in mind, cause fer most of us it’s just a simple way of saying a slightly more complex "truth." — Michael Dooley Grand Canyon Rafting http://www.sonic.net/mdooley/rivrpage.html
Response:
Thanks for the great shuttle tale….I never knew about the toilet paper in a pair of socks filter trick…
Response:
a great tale, thanks. funny how the fondness of the memories is directly proportionate to the amount of discomfort felt at the time steve
Response:
Great trip story! BijiliE
Response:
And I knew, right then, at that moment in time, that it was the BEST I’d ever felt. And it still is. Excellent tale. Loved it. How do you cope with the normality after the best? I get reserved about doing some things in certain places as I think it just won’t live up to what it was before and I’ll be disappointed… but I usually go back anyway, just in case.
Well, I’ve gone back to run Boquillas since, and it was fun and all…but when I crested that little hill on the road coming up out of La Linda…well, I got a tingly rememberance what it had felt like anyway, and that was cool. Whose rbp sig file is that that reads "The best is yet to come"? I hope so too, ’cause some of the previous bests have been pretty damn fine. (Although, when I stop to consider, a lot of the previous "bests" have been closely associated with some kind of recovery after a screw-up or other carnage
Share what you know. Learn what you don’t.
Response:
And I knew, right then, at that moment in time, that it was the BEST I’d ever felt. And it still is.
Excellent tale. Loved it. How do you cope with the normality after the best? I get reserved about doing some things in certain places as I think it just won’t live up to what it was before and I’ll be disappointed… but I usually go back anyway, just in case. Jez "I don’t care who’s son you are, you’re not walking on my water!" Share what you know. Learn what you don’t.
Response:
Early on during a radical sabbatical year-on-the-road I had spent far too much time helping build my friend Lee’s cabin in the Chiricahuas and far too little time boating. Everyone in the Chiricahaus had a nickname (Mongo, Useless Bill, Boots) and, having spent a couple months working for free and doing all the damn grunt work, I had become known locally as "Manuel Labor". Seizing on a break in the wood-butchery schedule, I told Lee that I had to go paddling, and took off for Big Bend in south Texas. I’d heard that there were a couple of nice runs on the Rio Grande thereabouts and elected to do a gentle float through Boquillas canyon, stretching a twenty-some mile canyon run into a 4 day trip with lots of in-canyon camping and arroyo exploration. Drove all night from SE Arizona to Big Bend and arrived in Boquillas Village exhausted but raring to get out into the solitude of the canyon. Got to talking with a young lady wandering about the 115 degree in the shade put-in and she offered to run my shuttle for a reasonable fee. Fantastic. Serendipity. Fill a 5 gallon carboy and a few canteens with water, throw the rest of my gear in the boat and here’s the keys – pick me up in La Linda in four days. Yeah, yeah, yeah..something about a gravel bar on the right just after the last island…see ya in 4 days. Get out on the river and it’s just what the doctor ordered. When I picked up my permit the Rangers told me there was no one else ahead of me on the river and that they wouldn’t really expect to see anyone else. Hotter
If you like this post and would like to receive updates from this blog, please subscribe our feed.