
Dave, Andy and I headed up to Pistol Creek on a hot Friday afternoon. There was fresh bear scat all along the trail in.
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I heated up some taco-things for lunch on my camp stove.

After lunch, Dave and I got busy setting up our tents. I put mine in a clearing just above the beach,

Andy was going home after dinner, so while Dave and I set up camp, he took Oreo on a little nature walk downstream.

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We had beans and franks for dinner. Afterwards, we had a few more beers before Andy packed up and set out for home.

On his way out, Andy came upon Cap’n Ron. who was piloting his drone. We heard the mosquito buzz of his aircraft but he didn’t have time to join us in camp, so we never saw him.

Dave and I sat on the beach until it got dark. The drought had imposed fire restrictions, so when it got chilly, we had a night-cap by the glow of a lantern and called it a night, retiring early.

The next morning we returned to our kitchen on the beach. The first order of business was to heat water on the stove so we could get properly caffeinated.

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After breakfast, Dave and I got curious about what lay south of us, in the depths of the forest.

We found trackless old-growth. Where the trees were thick, it was dark and the forest floor a maze of deadfall and decaying logs.

Where the forest opened up, dense undergrowth blocked our path. We had to hack our way through with the machete.

Without a compass, we would have gotten hopelessly turned around. Eventually, we made our way back to the creek.

It was an awfully nice place to be, but it was time to go. We packed up our things and hauled for home.
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