Looking back, it was an odd week in the summer of 1977, when we were airboated to and deposited at Cottonwood Creek to camp on the banks of the Snake River in Idaho to search for fossils as part of a research project. We set up the tent near a tree some 40 yards or so above the river. We were in a small canyon, so the sun rose late and set early above us, and the twilight was lengthy. Some birds had hatched, and we watched the parents flitter to and fro bearing food for their hatchlings who were madly chirping. There was a log under the tree where we'd sit to remove our hiking boots and socks. One afternoon, as I flexed my sore feet, I spotted a small snake. Within a few minutes, we discovered maybe half a dozen of the snakes, baby rattlers, emerging from where they must have hatched beneath the log. We considered our options, and together hoisted the little dome tent and moved it a more comfortable distance away from the tree and log, which apparently was a popular spot for critters long before we had arrived. You'd think snakes and baby birds might be awkward company for each other, but they all seemed content to do their own thing.

Early one afternoon, I was walking alone toward the tent in its new location. I heard voices echoing from the river. That summer, rafters floated by every now and again, and that's what was happening except this group had pulled ashore on our little beach, looking for a place to camp for the night. A gentleman around my age was approaching. He had a long braid of black straight hair, a squared, open face, a hand extended to introduce himself, and a question about the possibility of camping nearby. But all of that was nothing because as he grew closer, I saw not only was he shirtless, he was wearing nothing at all. Now this wasn't completely out of the ordinary back then toward the end of the era of flower children, that people might raft down river in the nude. But this was someone who had never met me swiftly approaching, confidant of a friendly exchange.

I shook his extended hand, but experienced a very difficult time following what he was saying, and keeping my eyes focused on his face. A brief tour of the area convinced him there was not enough room for their group, and he said it was a pleasure meeting me, but they would float further down river. I watched him walk away down to the river, the braid of hair hanging down his back.