A quarter-mile bushwhack around a knoll reveals a Tuolumne that is twice as wide but only half as deep as it is at the bridge site. A little jaunt part way across also reveals the power and temperature of the current and the slipperiness of the slimy rocks that cover the bottom from shore to shore. This task will require a hiking stick in each hand for support, a lot of patience, no boots and no pants. The middle of the river and the middle of the navel coincide with utmost precision. But, in the next few short steps Belly Button goes under over his head.
River turns inward here.
Around that knoll back there. Therefore, as an afterthought, the far side is the deepest side. The thought next occurs that lots of this particular congregation of water molecules rushing by legs could have been the same ones emitted by that huge dark-cloud formation over tomorrow's destination from the White Wolf trailhead of yesterday. Finding it is another problem. Standing water, downed trees and drowned flora abound.