Poop is raining from the ceilings. Poop!

Trying not to bite it on the rocks.





At the beach where the river meets the sea. I feel like a dork labeling these pictures, but I figure you want to know what you're looking at, right?


Yes, that’s right, last week we went to Dumps River Falls where the feces is as abundant as the good times. White people at dancehall is rivaled only by chains of pale, lumpy, skimpily clad tourists attempting to billy goat their way to the top of a waterfall. Although mildly more tan and svelte, I was no less awkward than the hordes off the cruise ships. There was a lot of arm flailing and mad scrabbling for hand holds on the slippery scummy rocks. Patrick had to stand behind me to keep me from plummeting backwards into space. Once I had steadied myself enough to study my surroundings, I noticed that Patrick was making a show out of climbing without his hands. Rather than wading through the occasional pools like our fellow climbers, he would take a decidedly more precarious route around the deep water. When I called him out for showing off, he turned to me, bewildered, “I don’t want to get my wiener wet.” So we made our way upwards evading the masses by choosing the less traveled routes in order to avoid wiener contamination. I was less discriminating, the poo in the water seemed harmless in lieu of busting my butt. Patrick was graceful, but I did whatever I could to get the job done. Alan obliged us for awhile, but in the end, opted for the quickest path out of the water, meaning he had a front row seat to Patrick finally loosing his footing and plunging himself—wiener and all—into neck deep water. Since this occurred two feet from the stairs exiting the falls, Alan was not the only witness. After observing several small children bite it, Karen decided to take in the spectacle from the sidelines. Although she managed to have a Jamaican adventure of her own. In all seriousness, we enjoyed our trip to Dunns River. The falls are gorgeous and the climb was extremely entertaining (both to watch and ascend). Unfortunately, like many natural splendors, the falls suffer from tourism and pollution from upriver communities. Hence my infantile references to poop water, although I should make it clear that, while there is some fecal contamination, there are not turds floating by as you wade. Anyway, all water seems clean enough to me after spending summers in and out of Smithville lake.