We were at Blossom Bar, the most wicked death rapids on the river. Old women weep just thinking about them. We needed to get out and scout the rapids, so we climbed up the rocks. Greg liked to make sure we hit all the rough water, so Pete, the other passenger in our raft, had donned his poly-wet suit. He was not amused when I called them his 'waterproof Depends.' (by the way, that is a darn good photo)