This is from up top. We saw up top (cold, very windy, heavily wooded) and the bottom (desertified, hot). Up top we were totally alone, and we had just gotten there basically as the sun was going down. I rushed to make a fire for no real reason, other than I thought it'd be fun to have a fire. It was more worrisome than anything though, because I kept having to find wood in the dark, and most of it was really moist or half buried. I was able to start and manage the fire for a while though, using only a small amount of toilet paper and some twigs. I was proud enough and still am. It was kind of spooky up in the blustering forest, and P and I had been engaging in heavy conversation the whole way up, so the mood was not exactly blithe. Plus we didn't have any chairs-- a real must for proper camp-fire appreciation. We sat on the cooler, hips touching, wondering aloud what Hells Canyon held in store for us.
Sleep could not come soon enough, but we were so restless from the eight or so hours in the car. I threw the stick for the dog and drank a beer, but then I just worried that dog'd get lost in the woods like we sort of were.