Sunday, February 15, 2009
The camp at Dead Water North proved out. From what we heard the Allagash was beautiful from up on the highbank. The slosh of moose heads dunking and grunts of hooves over river rock butted into our conversations at camp. The sun seemed anxious to close up shop on us as we had blown through our poorly allocated supply of ales. The river was wide and the colors the sun revealed over the surface of the rips, like a hiked silk over thigh, heavied the longing for women left behind.
Posted by Rick Beaty at 10:00 AM