David bustles up: soaked and scraped from a surge channel. "Five groups told me you guys were here. The last one said I was in trouble."
Well ... yeah.
But mature adults all we soldier past this point. With minimal screaming of obscenities even.
Soon we're camped at Tsuisiat Falls, the scenic highlight of the whole trail, drizzled in amber light. I strip to shorts and a sports bra, plunge into the chill waters. Yee-haw! As the sun dwindles, I air-dry, sauteeing squash and zucchini for the saffron risotto.
"Is it ready yet?" David asks with all the charm of an ankle-biter kicking the seat back.
He's had a tough day, granted ... but one of his own creation. So I feel no guilt in my overly parental response. "Soon. Have a snack. And if you're bored, why don't you put up my tent?"