Someone wound up up shit creek without a paddle. Or a cooler. Or a shoe. Or a hat. Or a wedding ring. A John-boat rescue was involved. Someone else floated the Eleven Point for three hours and five miles sharing the kayak with a water snake. It was discovered by the terrified outfitter at Turner Mill when the water was dumped out. But other than those two moments of excitement, the float was quiet and beautiful.
Wild river indeed.
Poor Chris!
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