Why is it that I always seem to have an awful lot of fun whenever I'm wearing my Tevas?

You too, you say?

Hmmm. We could be on to something here.

Maybe I should wear them to work more often...

This was another Teva weekend for sure.

A raftload of college kids--my awesome nice Jackie and her great friends--plenty of hot sun, perfect river temps, good rides on the waves and fun hits in the holes, a lazy float down the lower river, and generally just a damn nice Saturday on the Kennebec.

Just what the doctor ordered...

Da croo!

Hoisting the pirate flag.

A busy day on the Kennebec.

While my crew enjoys a refreshing swim...

... the guide enjoys a cold one tossed on board by a passing raft. Who's gonna say no to that?!

Riverside flora.

Osprey and nest on the lower river.

After the take-out, gathering up the gear, and breaking down camp, my crew decided they just couldn't leave The Forks without taking the big 30-foot plunge off the pedestrian bridge on Route 201 over the Kennebec River. It just seemed like the thing to do, and a very popular thing at that.

The bridge is the place to be, and jump!

Dangling feet, waiting to make the leap.

Dave and Will make the jump.

Pete and my niece Jackie take the plunge!

Splash!

Saturday night after the gang left for home I had Webb's Campground to myself for the afternoon and reveled in the quiet, sitting comfy in my camp chair on the shore of the Dead River, reading about Jack Kerouac's adventures with Zen in the mountains of California, and tilting a nicely chilled Corona with lime.

Ahhh.

Watch out for this man! He may be armed with a paddle and beer money and has been known to have too much fun!

Visions of a perfectly cooked green chili burrito with beef finally motivated me to head down the road a piece to The Marshall, but to my serious disappointment, they were out of green chili sauce.

Bummer.

But I was assured that the cook will be stirring up an extra large batch that will be ready for next weekend, when I and a dozen or so MOAC paddlers will ravenously descend on the place bent on a green chili burrito fix. They'd better come through!

Seeking a new chow plan, The Boatman's Grill at Three Rivers was the next stop. A Shipyard and a sirloin steak would have to fit the bill.

I slunk back into camp fat and happy and sat by a roaring fire content to do absolutely nothing until sundown, when my tent and sleeping bag called.

I promised myself I'd do a paddle on Sunday morning, maybe down Moxie Pond aways. Didn't happen. Instead, I chose to sleep in, then relax with coffee and book, before heading south for some biscuits and gravy at Thompson's in Bingham.

Mist on the Dead River Sunday morning.

Hey, sometimes even river guides got to take it easy...