Rumor had it that the strong coffee in the bucket was Peet's Coffee.
I put the strainer on top of my official cup (we each got one for the duration of the trip), and ladled in some Peet's for a nice super-charge.
I'm not sure exactly how the math works, but it seems to me that stronger coffee = fuller porta-potty, which must on some level be deliberate. The staff had asked us to try to get out digestive systems to work in the morning and night, when the camp toilet was set up.
They carried a different toilet for each day. The toilets had hardcore lids for when they were not in use, but the toilet seat moved from toilet to toilet each day. One day, Chelsea had a line of six kids and couldn't get the toilet open.
"I nearly had a riot on my hands," she said.
On Day Two, we broke camp and chugged downriver.
Today's sidetrip was to a marvelous waterslide on the Little Colorado. The smaller river was a rich turquoise. We all hiked to a spot which was full of rafters from other outfitters. Everyone was doing the same thing. Buckling their life jackets around their bottoms like diapers, leaping into the Little Colorado, and sliding down to the pool below.
It was marvelous, but I looked ridiculous in my diaper. I looked more ridiculous than the others, I think, because I'd stripped down to my bathing suit first, so it looked like I had nothing on underneath my life jacket. Everyone else was wearing their street clothes, but I didn't want to abuse them more than I already was.
I did not take any photos of me in my orange, padded diaper.