I rode my bike up the hill, slowly, and down the hill, not as fast as expected.

The 3/4 mile of creek upstream of where we put in last year contained a surprisingly sustained gorge. With respect to challenge and beauty it recalled lower Youngs, and the larger drop towards the end was walled in well enough that to portage I had to walk around the remainder.

Lower down I cut my boat, on a mystery rock, and patch-n-go adhered poorly enough to the well worn floor that I spent the final hours sitting in 4 inches of water.
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Having to walk off the verge of hypothermia did not make finding the old trail any less foggy.

Side trails, promised on the 1:100,000 map, passed behind me in non-existence, and I ridgecamped at 7000′, cross eyed at dusk with only 2 liters of water in my pack.

Trail signs, deer tracks, and only 3 granola bars led down and across and all the way back to the creek, my bike, and a bonked-out 2000′ climb.  I still made my car hours before even optimism had indicated.

I want to say what I found because it is important, but not tell anyone where, so maybe you can find the same thing yourself.