One reason I battled beaver pond and river forest to reach the river was to salve my conscience.

Three fellows arrived at Bliss Spring and "the world's most perfect campsite" about 30 seconds after I did. Instead of mugging me and throwing my body in a cave, they graciously went looking for another site. I may have given them hope by mentioning that there were several "really good spots just down that side trail by the river." I may have failed to mention that the last time I was there was about 20 years ago—before a trail rerouting abandoned several nice riverside spots and long before the arrival of the dreaded beaver.

However, besides being gracious, the threesome were also able to find this nice spot right on the river. It wasn't as good as my spot, but pretty good.

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