Despite her friendly offer, we had to wait until morning to check out Frieda's campsite. I tossed and turned, wishing I was at Crew's having spaghetti, Sunday coming and going as early Monday dawned clear and cold. With the bridge still under repair and enough flotsam clogging the water way from the continuing degradation of the dam, we were stuck on the mountain anyway, so I made the best of it.

I could have stayed at the retreat and let Jill take care of this, but it ...