Monday, June 6
The weekend is over and all the campers have left Bradfield Campground.
The rafting people have packed up their stuff. Everyone has returned to the rat race.
“Not I,” said the retired rat.
Hee -hee. We have this place all to ourselves.
Ever since we arrived at Bradfield on June 2nd, people have camped on a short spur road at the end of the campground. That’s why the crew and I didn’t walk up that way.
I lift Bridget into her car and we take off to look it over.
Reggie, on his tether, scampers ahead of us.
“Here’s a place where we can wade!”
One does not go wading in the main part of the Dolores.
“Good heavens, that’s cold! Whatcha’ think, Bridge? Are ya’ comin’ in, sweetie?”
She’s so proud of herself.
“Hey, Reggie! Come back here and get in the water with Bridget and me!”
This water is too cold to bear for long. She did enjoy the water as evidenced by her wagging tail and sprightly gait.
“C’mon, my feet are freezing. Let’s go back to Bridge . . . .”
Bridget trots around, feeling frisky, while Reggie zoom, zoom, zooooooms!
Well, that was a nice way to wrap up our last day at this camp. When we get back to the Best Little Trailer, I’ll put away Bridget’s car, the lounger and the doggie beds, take up the stakes on the mat and pack it away, and tidy up the inside. We’ll hitch up and move out early in the morning.
In closing this post, here are a few photos of Bradfield Campground taken Sunday afternoon.
I took these from a road high above the campground. Do you see the BLT?
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