Seemed to take forever to rig, even with three extra sets of hands. Mark and I were committed to this trip, regardless of the weather or water. An overnight run the previous month had been clear of hazards, but the latest flush left a river-wide strainer just below the ranch. We thought initially there was enough room to squeeze by, but the gauntlet of beaver spears soon had us out of the boats. Took our first break at the cottonwood stand three miles below the bridge. A hike there revealed that the cacti were in full bloom, even the odd-ball variety.