Pictured at right, me and my tent this morning, and above, the Sword of Damocles.
Though it was cold last night, it was not wet, which was nice. I set up my tent around 10:30pm and read The Scarlet Letter for a while, then slept comfortably until 7:30am. I hung out at my tent in the morning, trying to assess whether the possible sites I could see nearby were good ones, deserving of a try when I have others along and therefore need a larger space.
That’s when I noticed the large branch above my tent, partially broken off in some previous violent wind, suspended vertically, like the Sword of Damocles.
Despite the sword, I kicked the wet, soft dirt for a while in an effort to flatten out the campsite. I heard a voice and felt someone coming toward me, which gave me a pretty good start. Miraculously, my friend Steve, who had never been to this site, but just knew the general area, had found me and brought a hot cup of coffee, manna from heaven.
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