Boomer's car was in the shop so I agreed to pick him up on the way and we'd meet the third en route. But once again our third decided to head north to other waters. So Boomer through a bike in the back of my truck for the shuttle. He had done the lower section of Lover's a few days prior and so we decided to do the middle section - most say it's better anyway, and even a touch easier. We locked the bike on the road just above the nasty waterfall and drove up to the put in. Flows were low but it made the pace manageable - there's very little space between the rapids on this run.
|My boof off said rock|
So now we're back on the road but in between the bike and the car, thinking we were much closer to the bike. We tried to hitch for a while but Californians don't seem to eager to pick up dirty, ragged guys wearing paddling gear. No problem, I started walking towards the bike. Turns out the car would have been just as fast a walk. Once at the bike I rode but up to the boats and we finally caught a break and someone stopped to give us a lift. Boomer retrieved the truck while I packed up and we were loaded and back home only slightly late for dinner.
Certainly not a picture perfect day of paddling. But aside from Boomer's injuries (which appear to be nothing major, thankfully), it was a grand adventure. It's days like this that we need to appreciate what we do and what we're capable of. It's the hard and tiring slogs that we must endure to receive the reward of paddling beautiful rivers in beautiful places. It's what makes us stronger for the next time. And the next time can never come too soon.