For those that know me this may surprise you, but I took over. It seemed as if everyone was in disappointed agreement that we couldn't jump into the water and so were ready to leave. I piped up and said that we should be able to climb down it. I then proceeded to lead the charge, though, with Miles and Frankie's rock climbing experience and athleticism, I somehow ended up near the back of the convoy by the time the bottom was reached. As we neared the waterfall's base we realized the water didn't extend higher than our knees and smelled foul. The stink and the shallowness, however, did not discourage the brothers from a quick swim. (Did we describe Miles as wise? Adventuresome, definitely. If I wanted to a rash as a souvenir I would have stuck with the Willamette.)
Once we bid farewell to the guys we headed down to the lake for some much needed clean up. Newly presentable and reddened from our beach sun appreciation we trekked the steep trail back to camp. Since Yellowstone and others have a strict policy against anything scented that could pollute or attract bears we were left with our hippy all natural, earth friendly, multi purpose soap/shampoo/detergent/toothpaste/carpet cleaner/oven degreaser and washing our hair in our portable sink. It worked out fine but required a bit more finesse and patience than a typical shower.
The afternoon was spent relaxing around the campsite and hiding out from yet another thunder storm. In trying to be thoughtful I warned the couple a site over that a storm was eminent. They in turn put back into their van several dining room sized Afghan carpets which they had been for inexplicable reasons spread out along the field. This of course was the day rain did not follow the thunder. Since they didn't speak to us again before leaving I assumed this wasn't well received. We missed Miles and Frankie all the more.
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