Breakfast was pancakes and coffee. Lunch was a varied affair, typically sandwiches of coldcuts and cheese, but sometimes a surprise, like nacho salad. As Lynn explained, lunch typically was ready when the guides started to eat the food, which I thought was pretty damn funny. I guess you had to be there.

During the day, both salty and sweet gorp was freely available to staunch the occasional hunger pang. And then dinner. Now, I know that food always tastes better when you camp out, but trust me, the food was good. Chicken fajitas the first night, manicotti the second night. Salmon steaks were next, and the last night, linguine with clams. By the last couple of nights, we had become a family of sorts, pitching in and cooking alongside the guides. Which maybe explains how the linguine got burned (but that's another story).

There was a water station where a large pump filtered river water for general consumption. Again, people took turns when the mood struck them (or when the water supply ran low). There were no issues with dirty dishes lying around, or empty water buckets. The guides did some, I'm sure, but there was a genuine sense of comraderie, and helping out.

Some of the river guides noticed people returning from "relieving" themselves without washing their hands before eating. Lynn immediately gave us a stern verbal spanking, and was adamant that people constantly and consistently wash their hands with soap and river water. Apparently, many years in the past, a virulent outbreak of stomach cooties made the rounds in the entire river community. They even used to drink the river water untreated back then, and that may have been when they started filtering the water as well.

After all the horror stories, we were scrupulous in washing and filtering. You would think that would be enough, but noooo. Many of us woke up the last day with the runs, and memories of burned linguine. One woman was up most of the night visiting the crapper. Which leads me to our next topic.