River

This trip started with a whoosh. Well, actually it started with a long slow drive up a rocky road, leading to that whoosh. The whoosh was the air rushing out of our right rear tire at record speed after being punctured by a rock. There’s nothing quite like spending the day working your way into a remote site in the forest to spend a few days, only to come up a mile or so short of your goal, and then feeling the need to go get a tire fixed. We passed the three options of camps we intended to stay at. They looked very nice. Maybe next time.

We spent the remainder of the day, and most of the next one driving out for a tire repair and then back to the St. Joe. Along the way out we picked up another flat tire. I guess the rocks are sharp on the St. Joe. Or they had a message for us. I’m going with the first option.