.

After what it seemed hours on top of wild horses going up hills and neve ending hilly dirt roads, we finally found it—the black rock in the middle of the river, from which the campground gets its name. 

And what beautiful, beautiful place in the middle of nowhere—a small camp site with only the perfect few campers which, like us, prefer the solitude of the mountains to four wheelers and such... what pain those noise people are.  Always looking more to the fun they can get than to the respect for nature and the solitude this world needs so much on these crazy days we’re living.

Right below our campsite—the river.  Like a belly overhand, the terrain lays out above the river on a curb, leaning on the one side to the forest, with the amazing views of the mountains above our heads; and the water, crystalline and pure running below, where geese found their natural pool and for hours just stopped swimming and let the waters take them down... slowly and graceful..

I was afraid it was going to be super-hot like our last campout, but instead a beautiful breeze run over the entire place and the tall pines and trees protected us from the intense sun in a most blessed way.

Down at the river there was a part where a natural pool had been established by large rocks so campers could go down and swim and even take baths... 

We walked all the way to where the black rock was and walked atop rocks formations and fished and came back to our camp singing and laughing.  We cooked and eat better than ever thanking God for His amazing love and protection.  We read, sipped coffee and ate watermelons and sleep a long night—deep and happy.