We are on the switchbacks from Barney Lake to Duck Pass and spread out, with Barry far in the lead and Scott trailing substantially. Walking roughly at the same speed as Phil during much of this section and up to the pass is a man in his early forties with a young boy, presumably his son, around age 8 or 9. The boy is wearing a pack which is way too large for him and appears to be set up improperly as it is listing badly. He is struggling to make it up the trail and needs to stop frequently. However, each time he stops, the man begins yelling at him to "get moving!" or "get going!" or, when the boy sits down, "get up!". According to Phil, at one point the boy collapses on his back on the trail, sobbing uncontrollably, flailing his arms and legs, and screaming "you're torturing me!"

Undaunted by these tactics the man yells back "Get up, get up damnit! 1.. 2.. 3..!", ignoring the boy's brilliant argument that he has to take 5 steps for every 1 of the man's steps. Apparently the man thought that his mission on this trip was to make a man out of his son, and that making the boy miserable and ensuring the boy learn to hate his father was the best way to accomplish this. We dub the duo 'Sergeant Carter and Gomer Pyle' (remember Carter's gravelly voice? Come on, Pyle... move it! move it! move it!). We saw this couple only once more, shortly after Duck Pass, and throughout the rest of the trip commented often that we hoped the boy had pushed the dickhead off a cliff or cut his belly out with his Swiss army knife or something similar. After all, we don't need any more Richard Allen Davis types in this world.