Class of '60 "Reunion" Follows Green River Route

By Rees Clark '60

In August of 1998 they invited me to go canoing on the Green River in Utah, near Annette's home. Suzanne came from Southern California, and I came from Seattle. We camped out along the river for nine days, along with Rocky Mountain friends, Dion Corkins, Alene Watson and Sandy Dickinson. Here are some photos by Suzanne.

We camped out each night. Here are Suzanne, Rees and Annette (R) before the first day's rainy start. Two days of rain were followed by seven of sunshine.
Rees the amateur was lucky to have an experienced paddler like Dion Corkins to keep him pointed in the right direction.
	The Green River (shown here cleverly disguised as the brown river) descends through thousands of feet of sediments to its confluence with the Colorado. Our trip was about 120 miles.
The shade was often the most beautiful part of the trip in the middle of the days. (We asked Suzanne to photograph some spectacular scenery, but there wasn't any.) (R) Here's a shot of the well appointed docking facilities along the Green River.
An experimental oil well drilled decades ago produced little oil, but it provided a source of mineral water that encrusts the surrounding rocks with orange, red, yellow and brown precipitates that support a variety of tiny organisms. (Here are two of the tiny organisms inspecting the others.) (R)A highlight of the trip was the opportunity to visit several cliff dwellings (approx. 1,000 years old).
After nine days of paddling, we were happy to let the jet boat carry us back up the Colorado to Moab. Guess what!

Suzanne and Annette and I have gone down mostly separate roads over the past few decades, but it's been my great joy to renew our friendship since a class reunion in 1990. Strangely, I'm the only one with white hair.

It turns out that I was never so smart again as I was in the second grade. All things considered, I'd rather be in the canoe. Although I'm fairly sure I was invited for my ability to fling large bundles onto the bank from the canoes, I don't mind; the company made it all worthwhile -- no, wonderful. At the end of the trip, I hated to get on the school bus to go home. Plus ca change...

The moral of the story is that if Annette Blanchard Rose ever shows you a picture she drew of a flower pot, say something nice. It may take 50 years, but there's a reward.

--Rees Clark, '60

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