One thing you have to become very adept at is crossing streams, and rivers. One false step and it could be much more serious than just getting wet. At this crossing the logs were about 5 feet above the water, the water was deep, and there was a very large waterfall just downstream (right where the creek disappears in this photo). The water was roaring, the bottom log was flimsy, and I was holding my breath.
She made it, and I could breathe again. Then...it was my turn.
This creek had a much better bridge. No problem.
One more time back across the wobbly logs and we are home free. We did loose one trecking pole that we never recovered. It fell in the creek, went over the falls, and was gone.
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