Hiking the Appalachian Trail near our first night’s campsite, we came to this foot-numbingly cold stream. It’s about fifty yards wide, and while the trail ends on one side and clearly begins again on the other, we thought, this is not possible. “They” can’t be asking “us” to roll up our pants and walk through “this”. Somewhere there has to be a bridge, a shallow area with rocks we can hop, or a gondola with a colorful shade-providing umbrella and a snappily dressed, chilled-wine providing gondolier.

Chris leads the way, a bit upstream from the trail crossing, in deeper water.