too bad, three years later and tony is still talking about tweeker rehab with anyone deep creek brings his way. count yourself lucky that you were occupied with the walk down. last we encountered him in '99 he'd taxied in local teenagers and two cases of bottle beer. it was still winter and we looked forward to the solitude that the time of year would offer. tony and crew showed up with a shuffle, lost a good deal of their beer noisily crossing the creek, and settled in for a par-ty. compulsory but unsuccessful idiotic group think attempt to make a bonfire, that's how we meet the crew-trying to disuade them from sparking up. tony ends up odd man out of the highschool party right quick and seeks solace of the only other folks around, us. and this time he was definitely tweeking. a barnacle on the best boat we call friendship...bs, denial, contradiction, self pity and a dark seven hour monologue plus a brow beating ordeal over stash, as you so vividly described. we were relying on the springs, all of us, as protection against the cold. the partyers hiked out with first light and tony dashed out after them, we rounded up 33 beer bottles and hiked them out. the trail was not comprimised, but we could still see the so smooth drag mark their cooler left behind rudied again by bunches of pairs of footprints out. we added our prints to the trail having split the extra load out three ways, we made it out safely. poor tony.