We're here in Jessup's field, a privately operated campsite - operated by mister Jessup, in fact - winding down and getting ready for bed. It's quite convenient. It's right by the rapid. And like most of the terrain around here, really lousy for farming. The owner charges $10 per tent per night. So he's basically a tent farmer, is our Mister Jessup. And this year is a bumper crop. Actually Dot says this is one of the best whitewater training sites in the world, so no doubt every year is a bumper crop.
Should I explain? Is it obvious? The place is swarming with people and round, hard plastic canoes. We got here around 9pm and there were already dozens of tents. And as we made camp, constructed our biodome-like tarp, several trailers rolled in, loaded down with canoes and more nylon domes to be planted on the tent farm.
I fear it will be like downhill skiing.
I'm sharing a tent with Nick and Jerry - a big Eureka thing. Nice - not like the last Eurekas I witnessed.
Tomorrow we arise for a 7am breakfast. We do a land session and then we head out. The river looks really high. We ran into someone who said the river was running "medium high". If this is medium high, I suspect "high" must therefore mean that the only thing that running it would be 300 cubits by 50 cubits by 30 cubits in size with a number of mating pairs of animals and an old guy with a beard - who would look not unlike Paul Gallagher - for a crew.
It's higher than I remember it, much in the same way as Niagara Falls is higher than my bathtub. Mind you, when I was a kid, we only ever ran it in July and August. Dot and the other instructors say they can't remember ever seeing the water this big.
It's now 11pm and I'm not at all tired. Time to go pee and go to bed.