Baby bear spotted on the shore

Check out this spider on our tent.

Five minutes before we beached our boats to camp at Rhett Creek we spotted a baby bear on the shore. Moments later our daughter pointed to a larger bear, presumably the mother. Another reminder that we were deep in the Frank Church Wilderness.

Tonight's dinner had a mexican theme: enchiladas, chips, salsa and pitchers of margaritas. We celebrated a birthday with pudding marshmallow cake. Yummy.

Stop to enjoy Jim Moore's place

Born about 1868, died April 25, 1942. We found Jim Moore's grave with his name and vitals carved into a small wooden headboard overlooking the compound with a picturesque view of the vast meadow and mountains in the distance. Imagine what it was like 100 years ago when 1800 prospectors rode through here on horseback on their way to the hills for gold. They stopped for food, hay for their horses, freshly made moonshine and other necessities. Six decades later the remnants of the trading post remained much like they were left. Legend says that taking anything from Jim Moore's place was bad luck. For me it's good enough to mill about the pot belly stoves, leather straps, horseshoes and fossilized road apples. I felt at peace here and didn't want to leave.

Back in time at Jim Moore's place

Saturday: That's me posing next to the historical marker on one of several buildings still standing at Jim Moore's Place.
It was a day of big rapids. Bailey, named after Robert G. Bailey, author of River of No Return, was one of the biggest rapids to this point. 5 Mile Rapid and its enormous corkscrew hole in the center and sheer rock wall on the right. Split Rock Rapid, another Class III, splitting the big waves between the massive rock in the middle and the cluster of smaller ones on the right. Next was Big Mallard around a blind left bend that we ran on the left side, squeezing the gap between rocks on the left and the giant hole at the bottom. Elkhorn was next, the longest rapid on the river, more like three rapids sewn together. Most exciting was taking the left side of Elephant Rock, a massive boulder in the middle. Two miles later we beached our boats so we could explore Jim Moore's place. I'll tell you more in my next post.

Bee trouble at Magpie Creek

Friday night: we beached the boats at Magpie Creek on the left side of the river, mile 29.5. Our camp was a big beach, some 15 feet higher than the river. It felt good to release the Velcro straps of my sandals and to walk barefoot in the sand. I found a secluded spot where I sat on a log and made entries in my journal. My arms and upper body were sore from hours of rowing. Our cooks prepared spaghetti and garlic bread that was rib-sticking and tasty. Rattlesnake Creek wound its way up the canyon. I traced it for some distance, treated to the sounds of rushing water, the smells of plant life--ferns and other Alpine flora more typical of the Pacific NW.
Back at camp the bees were ferocious, mainly in the kitchen area. Hundreds were captured in our hanging bee traps, but ten times as many pestered us until we went to bed. Tents were mandatory tonight. We made a fire and roasted marshmallows. Some of us made Smores.
"The problem is all the people," my sister-in-law said. "It's a nice shady beach and big groups camp here every night in summer." Just a little bit of drink spilled or the tiniest bit of food dropped give the bees plenty of reasons to homestead.
"Too bad, because it's such a nice beach," she said.
I nodded.