River Rhythms

On Thursday, it was 100 degrees. People all over the Northwest found themselves at rivers and ponds and other water bodies. In fact, we had a little thingy for Lance’s birthday at a spot on the Lewis River in Washington. Bit like Shangri La, really.

On a day when upper lip and stomach sweat prevails, even when you try to move very little, there was nowhere else to be besides ... right there. Cathy knows.

Koerner uses SPF 30, but still, the farmer's tan seems to triumph.

Also, due to the heat that followed the rainiest June in, like, forever, mosquito larvae hidden in gutters and birdbaths and other standing water all over Portland hatched and suddenly detonated on unassuming human creatures. Accustomed to getting one, maybe two bug bites over an entire Portland summer, we were slaughtered—and now look back on last summer and all the summers before as a time of amazing innocence. Ah, the good old days.

That's Lance and Cody swimming back from riding the rapids above. Cody pulled himself out of the water and puked. Apparently it was pretty hectic.