The Cliffs

In 1963, at 16 years old, I was living in Blue Lake, California. One of the weekend pastimes for some friends and I was to hike up the Mad River for a camping trip. On one particular Friday night we started our 5 mile trek about dusk. The favorite swimming hole “The Cliffs”, was about 1 or 2 miles out of town. It was also a popular drinking spot for young partygoers because it was across the river and considered safe. People had to wade the river to get to the beach and bonfire area. It being night by the time we forded the river, we were unobserved even though it was a moonlight night. As we approached the partygoers, we considered making our presence known. As we stood looking around we noticed a string of car approaching on the opposite river bank road, the only path. After a quick discussion, we three crouched out of sight of all parties. Our caution  was rewarded when 5 or 6 police cars pulled up to where the partygoers cars were parked.  The police all got out and started writing down license plate numbers. One officer leaned against the hood of his car with a bullhorn. His plea to come over and surrender was met with a chorus of belly laughs and hooting. These people were obviously ready to spend the night and feeling no pain, but they also knew the police wouldn’t wade the river. It seemed a standoff until our fertile imaginations kicked in. After a hurried consultation with my friends, we shouldered our packs and bedrolls. We were ready to run. At a safe upriver position I turned and yelled” This is the police, we have you surrounded”. We were unprepared for the reaction. People started running in every direction. They sounded like a herd of stampeding cattle. Some were in the river splashing or swimming for who knows where. Others were running through the brush. We three hikers beat a mirthful retreat and continue to laugh 40 years later. It caused a lot of discussion for a while, each side blaming the other.  Nobody ever knew who the culprits were.