I was on my way home from a long day of fishing high-country cutthroat streams when a buddy called and asked if I was busy tomorrow.

“No,” I said. “Why?”

“You wanna go float the Green?”

I agreed immediately, even though I was seven hours from the Green and it was already dark. If I drove through the night – with just a quick stop for a few hours of sleep in the truck – I’d be there in time.

Six years ago, I bought a small camper — a hard-sided 15-footer with a “hybrid” pullout that made it just about right for one or two people who wanted a few creature comforts but didn’t need the overall “glamping” accoutrement to enjoy time in the woods.

Basically, those comforts consisted of indoor plumbing — a quick daily shower and the ability to enjoy the morning constitutional without digging a cat hole and enduring a swarm of mosquitos bearing down on my naked rear end.