Above, camp on the east side of Lost Cove Creek. On this trip, we had to move away from the main campsite, due to a large party of riders that tied their horses to the bear cables and directly on top of the tent sites. Nice guys, but by the time that they finally left, the entire site was trashed and took weeks to recover. We've always liked the little site just across the footbridge over Lost Cove Creek, even though the Eagle Creek trail passes through the middle of it. I usually put my tent on the upper side of the path, while Paul likes the flat area below the path.

On this trip, we had paddled out a few miles from camp to do some snorkeling. After being out in the sun for a couple of hours, I told Paul that I was heading back in to take a nap in my hammock. He stayed out to do some fishing. I was sound asleep minutes after stretching out in the little bp hammock that I often carry in summer months. After sleeping for an hour or so, I was awakened by a horrendous clap of thunder. A moment later, the first fat drop of rain splatted heavily on my forehead. I dove for the tent (above, my trusty old Diamond Brand Free Spirit,) zipped up the fly and was deep in sleep again in minutes.

Paul was still up the lake when the storm hit and had the paddle of his life racing the wind and lightning back to camp. By the time he made it back, the rain was torrential. Unfortunately, he had left the fly up on his tent while we were out on the lake and his tent was flooded inside. That ended up being one of the wetter trips that we've had to the North Shore, but it was still a great one. Somehow, he got a fire going (he always does) and we enjoyed a good meal with cold beer as the sun went down.

Below, on a later trip, the Hennessey hangs in the main campsite on the other side of Lost Cove Creek.