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“I think we’re taking this whole Salmon metaphor way too far….” That’s all I could come up with at the time. We had been wandering off course for hours, trying to get up to the Bighorn Crags. As it turns out the 78 miles we ran along the river was the easy part. We had left Boundry Creek at first light, hoping to make good time while the weather was cool. The trail was very runnable and we were in high spirits. By the time we reached the powerhouse rapids there was heavy smoke in the canyon, but it passed quickly. At 25 miles Luke tweeted, “25 miles down, loving it.” As we made our way further down river the heat of the river and the enormity of our task started to settle in-our only respite was lunch while laying on the lawn at the Middlefork Lodge. The thought of warm food at the Flying B kept us plodding on, excited to get off our feet and fill our bellies. It became painfully obvious by 9 p.m. that our progress was going to be too slow-we weren’t going to be able to make dinner. About 7 miles short of our goal, approximately 60 miles into our trip we decided to sleep on a beach along the river. There was a group there already but they graciously gave us a spot by the fire, and some tube steaks. Never did a hot dog taste so good. We slept for about 5 hours in just our tights and puffy coats. I poached a life jacket to lie on and slept quite well actually. By 3:30 a.m. we were running again. Miraculously the lights and breakfast were on at the Flying B. We pounded our body weight in eggs, bacon and warm, buttery hash browns. This made slow going once we waddled back to the trail but it was well-worth the side stitch. By the end of the river section the standing joke was about the “Middle Fork Treadmill” the trail seemed to roll and twist repeatedly and we were looking forward to getting to the high-alpine country of the Bighorn Crags. <\/p>\n