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Munro leads us through several more rapids, none of which are too difficult, and none higher than a class four. Ashley loves it. I'd love to just watch the look on her face every time we hit a rough patch, but I need to focus on the river ahead of us. I hear her laugh or whoop whenever the raft bounces.
"I know you're interested in history, Ashley," Munro says. "Up ahead, we will enter President Harding Rapid, which was renamed in that bloke's honor when he died. It's class four, but a large boulder sits right in the middle of our path. Errol and I will need to push our raft to the left to avoid that obstacle."
We get through it fine, but Ashley loves the rough ride. She even gets splashed once, which makes her whoop even louder than before.
Since we've traveled for more than four hours, we decide to take a break for lunch near Eminence Break, a popular hiking trail that starts on the rim and ends at the bottom of the canyon. This area also features a wide sandy area along the river that serves as a fine spot for a picnic. We haul the raft onto the shore to enjoy a meal and rest, since we have a long journey still ahead of us. MREs aren't the tastiest meals, but they keep us fueled up.
Then we board the raft and get moving again.
Eventually, we come to more rapids, though most of them aren't rough enough to count in my book. But then we reach a longer stretch of turbulent water that Munro tells us is known as the Nankoweep Rapid. It might be longer than the previous ones, but it doesn't seem much rougher than the others. I'm glad for that, for Ashley's sake, but I think she had hoped for a wilder trip.
That lass really does love danger. Aye, I think she might be the perfect woman for me.
After a few more stops to rest and recharge, we finally reach the confluence of the Little Colorado River, where it empties into the big kahuna, the Colorado River itself. We take a break there so Ashley can "find a girl bush," then we're on our way again, though we only go for another few miles. After a long day of rafting, and with sunset looming, we all agree to stop on the western side of the canyon for the night and make camp there. We didn't bring tents, but we do have sleeping bags.
Ashley and I gather dry brush and twigs, then start a fire. Munro wanted to "cook dinner" for us, but he sneaked away behind the brush to do that, which makes me slightly suspicious about his intentions. If he brings us a bowl full of insects, I'll toss him into the river. Though I would eat that rot if I were starving, I'm not that famished yet. Besides, we have those MREs. They're slightly better than insects.
By the time we've gotten the fire going good, Munro saunters out from behind the bushes—carrying three fish.
"How did you get those?" I ask. "We didnae bring fishing poles. Or hooks, come to think of it. No bait either."
"Donnae need that," Munro says as he kneels by the fire. "I found a stick, sharpened the end, and stabbed the fish with it. Had to wade out into the river a bit, but that just makes it more fun."
"You might've drowned out there."
"No, I wouldn't. Other people would." He holds the fish out to me. "Since I caught these, you can gut them. I'd rather cook them whole, but you two are sensitive city folk."
"I live in Loch Fairbairn, not London."
Munro sighs as if I'm a hopeless fool. "Just gut the bloody fish."
"All right." I accept the fish and excavate my switchblade from my pocket. "I had no idea you could do that, Munro. I finally understand why everyone calls you the Wild Man. You're like Bigfoot, but slightly better looking."
He grunts. "Rather be Bigfoot than a pasty erse who works in an office cave all day, like those creatures in that H.G. Wells book."
"The Time Machine," Ashley says. "I love that book. The nineteen sixties movie was good too. But the Morlocks didn't work in offices."
"They weren't very friendly either," I say. "Eating humans isn't a nice thing to do."
Our conversation goes on after that, and I manage to make Ashley smile more often than Munro does. Not that I'm counting. She also laughs more at my jokes than at Munro's, but I swear I am not keeping track. I just happen to notice that.
In the midst of astronomical twilight, Munro rises and stretches, groaning the way I've realized he always does when he stands up. "Think I'll go wash off in the river."
"Right now? It's almost dark."
"Aye, but I can see in the dark." He gives me a deadpan look for so long that I almost start to believe he's being serious. But then he smirks and says, "That was a joke. I don't have night vision, but I do have this."
He bends over to pull an item out of his backpack. He holds up the small flashlight.
"Is that waterproof?" I ask.
"Aye. So donnae worry, Errol. I can find my way back to camp without you holding my hand." He starts to turn away, then pauses to glance back. "Think I'll take a nice long bath in the river. You and Ashley should have some alone time, anyway."
Munro winks. Then he ambles off into the bushes again.
Alone time? I have no idea what he's insinuating.
Well, all right, maybe I have an idea. But I can't be sure that's what Munro meant.
