Ambling along, singing a song, the cool mountain air, new forest of Jack Pine, ambrosia scents of mountain gardens in bloom, waning and drying. Thinking "where have all the honey bees gone....long time passing", the refrain of Peter, Paul and Mary song hanging on a question, "long time ago." So much bloom and delightful smell have been traversed in a month - yet, so few honey and bumble bees.
And then the focus of challenge erupts and Calamity's peels of concern are a gong in my ears. "We can't go through this; it's dangerous to the llamas and ourselves. I don't want to get hurt. We have to go back. You said that the Middle Fork Trail would be cleared!"
Well, some 3 1/2 hours past my predicted camp time, we get through, having sawed, leveled, and mainly going around some 20-30 trees across our way. We picked sharp-edged stones and rolled boulders of quartzite and arrive at camp bloody tired, bay exhausted. But now, the sun is over the ridge, food works its revival miracle and....a bumble bee buzzes up from the river, fresh sound, bathed, blonde mop singing a song. Hello tomorrow!