I returned to Cottonbrook on the banks of Little River with the ambition to camp overnight and then head out the next day for a day long sailing trip. I hiked into my preferred spot, find a better bush-whacking path that didn't involve having to get my feet wet in crossing the river and set up camp.
However, unlike the last time I was here there were plenty of signs others had found this spot. There was a fire-pit, with seared tin cans propped again the stones and cut logs for sitting. And this...
A totem? I guess. Sawed from a downed log. The only living tree that had survived the flood from Irene in the middle of the stoney wash had been cut down. This was sad to see, we are so habitually destructive. After setting camp threw on my running belt with water and went exploring with Sal.
I walked up what used to be a road and came across this moss covered slate. This picture does not do it justice.
Back at Little River Sal got to practice swimming and fetching.
His prints next to a deer's. i did not spend the night due to the tightness of my schedule for the next day. By the time camp was taken down the sun was setting and it was almost dark when I got back to the car. Heard some strange sounds on the walk out, maybe wild dog? I didn't hang around. When I got home I ate a meal and collapsed nice and tired. A good day.
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