Pictures from the rafting glory days, found in a shoebox at my parents' house
thumb|left Alan's weekday job was some sort of commercial banking, I know we'd talked once or twice about buying repo rental properties. Wish I'd done that...
thumb|left I believe I delivered Nate's kayak to his parents' place in Brooklyn on a road trip.
thumb|left Disco
thumb|left Forrest
thumb|left I wanna say Will, maybe?
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thumb|left Back when I was guiding, sometimes, when I was giving the orientation and safety speech, some guy would be all macho, and maybe make some disparaging remarks about his girlfriend who was expressing a little trepidation. If she was nervous, I might put that girlfriend right in front of me, where I could grab her PFD if she started to fall out. Maybe I'd encourage the gung-ho guy to sit in the front, where the action was. Maybe I'd guide him towards the front left, where it'd be easier to give the boat a little jostle with that side angled downstream, maybe just barely tag a rock as we dropped over a ledge with a slight diagonal, increase his chances of swimming by just a little bit.
thumb|right Now I'm not saying that's what's happening here, I don't think I was ever a cruel enough asshole to intentionally drop someone in the water at Broken Nose (it's an ugly swim, I've done it), but between my facial expression and that guy in the teal shirt bracing to stay in, he and the woman in front of me may have come as a couple...
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thumb|left Given Snuffy sitting right in front of me, I'm guessing a checkout or training run.
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