A few minutes earlier I was elated to have explored the interesting topography of West Bar, but you wouldn't know it from the look on my face. I had just realized that I was very low on gas. On my way here two days earlier I had forgotten to fill my gas tank in Wenatchee. Now the needle of the gas gauge was way down near the bottom of the dial. Running out of gas here would be a major problem: I was completely alone.

There was one possibility to ease my uncertainty, but it, too, was uncertain: use my loud whistle to get the attention of people at Crescent Bar Resort (across the river) and hope someone responded by boating across the river to my aid.

After computing the miles I had to go to return to Wenatchee (closest gas) and realizing I could coast downhill a good part of the way, I decided to rely on my own gas supply. I made it with gas to spare.