On our second morning, we set out to that island. Katie and I approached the site first, with Ken and Felicia just behind us. I felt my heart beat pick up. The scenery coming from a different direction looked right. The missing pieces were starting to fit. We go up to the fire grate and cautiously saw the landmarks exactly as they were in Amok’s pics. This had to be it. But where was that tree? Then we saw it. A stump. Someone had cut it down. It was exactly where it was supposed to be. We were here, at Amok’s last site. A few tears fell. I was glad I was wearing sunglasses. I was with a family who wanted to walk, paddle and immerse themselves into Amok’s spirit here. I backed off to let that happen, but I found myself doing the same thing. Katie set up her dad’s tent on the same pad her dad had. She slept where he slept in his sleeping bag. We camped at Amok’s site two nights and rejoiced in being there talking about him, his spirit and his love for family, friends and the BW.

Ken and Katie (compare with Amok's pic above):

At Amok's tent pad:

The Stump:

Ken and Katie with bwca.com Amok patches.