We got back from Maine in early September . Cricket and Glade headed out on the river from a few Grand Canyon trips and I elected to stay home and have cataract surgery. Far more fun.

I made a pilgrimage to southern Oregon to get some more precious Port Orford cedar to make into whitewater boats.

A first light stop along the coast at Pistol River to brew a cup of espresso and get my toes in the Pacific one more time.

Back in the boatshop we had a few repairs and maintenance projects. Velvet lost a scuffle with a rock on the Salmon.

No big deal. a little epoxy and pressure and the splinters turn back into plywood. Or perhaps it’s particle board now in a few spots.

Good as new. Ready for battle again.

Seedskadee, a basic McKenzie we built several yearas ago, is in for a new bomber fiberglass bottom. We grind and sand her smooth and let her get good and dry while we catch up on a few other projects.

But lest we forget what these boats are for, we load up all our wee vessels for an autumn San Juan trip.

Put-in night got a bit dramatic, with a a sweet sunset leading to a midnight deluge

But the rain brought us more water.

Seven little boats, all born from our lofting table, twisted minds, and boatshop floor.

We are not the first. The San Juan is a goldmine of prehisotoric grafitti.

A muddy sunset on the old San Juan.

Cricket brought her new iron bread pan and baked us a meteorite.

Mindless flickering light.

The mornings were cool. Ummm, cold. Frozen dishbuckets and cold toes.

River House with autumn plumage.

Comb Wash from on high.

More chilly mornings.

A flock of turkeys roosted in the cottonwoods behind camp.

At Mexican Hat a few of our gang left and four more joined us. We kicked off this part of the trip with a hailstorm as we entered Gypsum Rapid.

The camp inspector.

Goverment Rapid proved a bit noisy for the hard-hulled boats but no significant damage.

Dave is about to have an out-of-boaty experience. He’s is in (or soon will be again) a Tardigrade he built from our lines after taking our Doryak Course at WoodenBoat School this past summer. The boat was finished less that 24  hours before we launched. His friend Dave is just ahead in the Doryak he won at the same course.

We elected to carry Bernie–our open lapstrake droy–around the rapid.

Grand Gulch.

A bushy respite from the icy winds.

Sand barfs everywhere.

Heading into Clay Hills at sunset.

And back to Flagstaff fo a civilized cleanup.

Now, for real this time, we’ll get back to “work.”