Tinder box'd lunch

(Written Sept. 8 while outa signal range)
We pull ashore for lunch at some backwoods boat launch after a cold but fast 12 miles that included 3 or 4 good little Class 2 rapids stretches. Personally, I'm freezing. My upper body and head I've got covered. I need socks and my thermal long underwear pronto.

Ashore, Franks walks Clyde. I don the extra clothes but am still residually cold. I see a fire ring up on an embankment and do an about-face back to the riverbank where tons of dry dead wood is piled high on this outer bank of the forever meanering Mississippi. I tear into it a man possessed and without aide of white gas or even a scrap of paper I have a giant bonfire going not ten minutes after we've come ashore.

We pull out our little radio and feast on sausage and colby cheese, bagles and pickles and white chocolate Twix bars. And heat. Sweet heat! - RSM
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