As a result of the rain all the waterfalls in Boca de Quadra were gushing with a vengeance.
All that water needed someplace to go, and the trail was often the path of least resistance. If you slosh fast enough, you can manage to keep most of the water out of your boots.
It was lovely weather for some foul weather gear.
Luckily for us the weather nymphs smiled on us enough to hold off during meal times, so I got to stay dry while preparing some killer falafel. Mmmmm, fried things....
The next day we split into teams: Tyson took Waylon and Doyle, while Carl and I worked together. One group took on the trail-gobbling shrubbery and the other attacked the downed trees. After removing one smaller specimen, Carl and I were faced with a rather large log that we chose to turn into a step, as removing it entirely would have required way too much effort. Here's before...
During (we used the cross cut to slice out the sides, then chipped away the middle with an ax)...
And the final product. A darn fine piece of trail building, if I do say so myself.
On the way back we discovered that the salmon leaping around at the mouth of the creek had made their arduous way farther upstream than we thought possible, flapping sideways through water barely two inches deep. Carl took the opportunity to fulfill his lifelong dream of catching a fish with his bare hands (in return for the stress it endured, he deposited it another 50 feet upstream. Happy spawning, my friend)
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