It made sense, Jed decided later while sitting around the fire waiting for nightfall, that he had listened to Jenny. This was her 'country.' She had wisely realized that in the land of the midnight sun —at 11:00 PM it was still daylight— one was tempted to push on, and on, until exhausted. Jed's inner biological clock hadn't warned him that it had been a long, long day. She knew what was ahead, and that they needed rest to make a fresh start.

Watching Jenny study the topographic map, Jed tripped back to previous camping trips he had experienced with his ex. What a contrast in comparisons the two women made. Irene had always seemed to complain about the "mess" of outdoor living, even while insisting she was having a "good" time. She also had a talent for panicking over the slightest little threat from a natural world; a storm, a bear, or mosquitoes.

What seemed so incomprehensible now was that he had accepted this lack of interest in his life-style because Irene had convinced him no woman would put up with a the lack of modern conveniences.

Jed thought of his ex's famous complaint of not owning a clothes drier as he watched Jenny parade around in a cute little pair of red lace bikini panties.

The jeans they had waded ashore in steamed before a comfortable blaze just beginning to fit the scene lit by a purple twilight. A loon gave his crazy call. Jed put his head back, answered the call, and said, "that's me," as he reached for Jenny's hand, "crazy as a loon for you."