As more and more strangers mysteriously appear in the background (testifying to the fact that Tess Tigress and the Hog-Hunting Heroines were not the only foolish campers), Rivera wraps up another Mark Trail adventure. We must assume that emergency services will eventually show up and everybody will get back home. Practical issues such as finding or replacing personal belongings, equipment, and ruined SUVs are not the stuff of adventure stories, it seems. Well, this kind of “suddenly, the end!” is typical for Mark Trail stories:  Survive a landslide in Nepal one day, eat flapjacks with the family the next day.

What are we to take from this flood disaster story, other than Tess’s narcissism and Mark’s pragmatic defeatism? Well, we got a flash flood story that downplayed any actual serious effects. Nobody was seriously in danger. Nobody died. No crop fields were destroyed. No animals lost their lives. Whatever property was destroyed or lost is simply ignored. Was there a widespread disaster or was it just the campground? That “river” of floodwater behind the group certainly suggests something much, much bigger. But that’s a subject for a different comic strip, perhaps. In short, Jules Rivera did a bit of disservice by treating the flood as just fodder for Mark in yet another contest of wills with the opponent of the month.

But, it’s time to say “Adios, amigos!” to this group of forgettable characters as we are also left wondering what the point was for introducing Venus Verité into the story. Was it just so she could be the person with a working phone? Hard to support, since we saw Mark using a phone that didn’t look like the phone Venus had. Was it to add some uptown spice to a warming tray of country hicks? Or was Venus added to the story because Jules Rivera wanted to pay homage to a friend or idol of hers? Shucks, I don’t know. I’m just asking.

Give the man a break, Cherry! Mark is on assignment. The immediate danger is past and he is safe. You can just move on to your own next job. Speaking of which, I wonder whether Cherry is now a full-time employee of the Sunny Soleil Society or still just an independent contractor. She used to have her own landscaping and gardening business, as you may recall, but that seems to have dried up. That’s a shame, as it shuts down other story options.

Anyway, get off the phone, Mark! I’m sure other campers need to get in touch with their significant others, too! You can see them standing around you, Mark, waiting for you to hang up. And given that there isn’t a source of electricity out there, that battery is likely already low.

Oh, By The Way. No doubt, you have noticed something a bit unusual in panel 4. There seems to be another flood survivor! Is this just an absent-minded flub by Jules Rivera or is she introducing another character into the story at this late date?

Appearing to contradict himself, Mark downplays the seriousness of the situation and the plight of his fellow campers, all while modestly praising his rescue of Tess Tigress: “<Sigh!> It was just another heroic rescue. Nothing unusual.” Mark’s account seems to have gotten altered just a bit in the retelling, based on panel 2. “It was a one-handed rescue while I knelt on the shoreline. Easy peasy.” To be fair, don’t we all downplay serious activity to “spare” our friends and loved ones a lot of worry?

(Wait:  Am I saying that Rivera is offering a pertinent critique on (or parody of) the Human Condition that desires to be recognized and appreciated for a personal action, above and beyond, while simultaneously pretending it was a trivial thing that anybody would do? Hmm … that might be too deep for the readers. Better cue the sitcom laugh track for panel 4.)

BTW, where did Mark get that phone? Up until yesterday, only Venue Verité had a phone, and it’s red.

There is a lot to unpack here, which is more than we can say for Mark and his group, since the flood seems to have washed away all of their packs, camping gear, hunting equipment, and transportation.  As usual, in times of crisis, everybody asks, WWMD? The ever-optimistic Mark always knows what to do … well, Venus Verité does, in this case. Mark’s big idea is to conquer wet clothing, rather than hunt for lost baggage or vehicles—if they are still present—to see if they will start or have emergency kits. But Mark is certain help will get there soon, as if Emergency Services would give top priority to a group of hunters foolish enough to go camping in the path of a predicted flash flood.

Art Dept. I know what some (or most) of you are thinking: Was Rivera on something when she drew this? Take Panel 1 (please!). Cartoony characters stand around gaping at a landscape that might have come from an LSD trip or a German Expressionist painter. Arms flex in unusual ways. Panels look as if they are in a post-nuclear war wasteland, bereft of flora, fauna, and natural landmarks. But, perhaps the drawings are meant to symbolize the group’s feelings of isolation, despair, and loss. If not the group’s, then ours?

As Jess and Tess cuddle in the background in panel 1, it is comforting to see that Jules Rivera injected some moments of reality in today’s installment. The gang realizes that the flood has taken virtually everything. But once again, Venus Verité was the only one prepared. She came out of her tent already dressed and thought to bring her phone. I would have thought—given the impending disaster that Mark had been going on about—that Mark would have had an emergency “Go!” bag in his tent, at the ready. Why he didn’t or wasn’t better prepared is something yet to be explained.

But for the love of Mike, why does Rivera constantly make Mark seem like a reincarnation of Gomer Pyle? He often acts like a hick or gets befuddled by the modern world, as if he had gone to sleep in 1959 and just woken up. Well, he did just wake up, right? Perhaps a better question for Mark in panel 3 would be “That’s just what I need, Venus! Where did you get it?” To be fair, Venus could simply have said “Oh, I have a working phone right here!” instead of acting all “East Coast Elite.” But I reckon that is how she is supposed to be. In short, the hunters are all hicks, but Venus Verité is urban and urbane.

Art Dept. I wonder when Mark became a middle-aged couch potato (panel 2)? Yuck! I think Rivera should have expanded that “Me too!” dialog balloon (which should have included a comma) to cover Mark’s flabby torso. If we’re going to admit that Mark’s union suit is all soggy and baggy, how come Venus looks like she got off the plane? Oh, right: Urban and urbane.

So perhaps we must assume that Mark was trying to think on the run: “Tess is caught in the flood! Quick, pick up that branch. Let’s see…Tell Jess to take this branch of mine to he hold out for me after I collect Tess. No, wait. Too complicated. I’ll jump in with the branch, grab Tess, and have her hold on to it as I swim against the current and drag her out to safety.” Or something like that.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Tess also blamed Mark for the lost and/or ruined equipment, cars, guns, and hog carcasses, and try to sue him for damages. Heck, maybe the trauma will restore her lost memory, as well. This might be a good time for Mark to make an exit, stage right!

“You’re traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of images and text, but of uncertainties. A journey into a changing land whose boundaries are the stuff dreams are made of. That’s the signpost up ahead—your next stop, the Trailverse!” (The spirits of Rod Serling and Raymond Chandler will get me for this mashup.)

Okay, speaking of craziness, I’ll award a gold star to anybody who can explain how “everyone else made it to safety” if everybody else simply came back down the hill to the flood in order to see Tess swept away. Of course, Mark has to rescue her, so there he is in panel 1, walking like an Egyptian. But Tess is floating on top of the water, not in it. Perhaps she happened to land on a branch that is propping her up.

It’s a crazy Twilight Zone world. Mark has conveniently found a branch. Fine, we can go with that. Mark tells Jess to grab the branch while he goes after Tess. Again, the concept is sound. So why is Mark still holding onto the branch in panel 3?  And if he is “bounding toward the water to save Tess”, why he is running in a different direction from where Tess is?

The laws of time and space work differently in the Trailverse, perhaps something like a Moebius strip. I hope Venus is getting some good shots for her “Hog Hunting Heroines Horrific Hunt” article. But if Mark spots a giant boat float by with a bunch of animals looking out the side, he’s about to have bigger problems!

Art Dept. No, I don’t know why Mark is looking up in panel 2.

In terms of plot, today’s sequence makes logical sense:  For one thing, it appears to be in the correct order, compared to yesterday! There is a flood, people are trapped and trying to escape. Somebody falls into danger. All very standard “disaster movie” fare. No matter how much they walk, they either are not getting far, or that flood is really moving and rising quickly. And from what we know of flash floods, especially in open, dry spaces such as canyons and arroyos, that is a reality.

At the same time, some details undermine the action. For example, panel 3 shows the flood threatening to engulf Tess Tigress, which takes place in panel 4. But the last panel also shows one of the tents, suggesting they have not really made any progress moving up!

Next, the textbox in panel 2 states they are moving “through the surging currents.” I’m confused, but I was under the impression that they were moving away from the surging currents.

Art Dept. That squirrel has got to go! It totally ruins the scene. Although the other layouts are fine, the artwork is really, really sketchy; so much so that in panel 4, the barely-visible head of Venus Verité looks like a painted ball! We’ve been following Jules Rivera’s work long enough to think that she is deliberately drawing expressively, rather than naturalistically. I’m suggesting Rivera’s art—often simplistic, sketchy, even crude—may not be this way from a lack of talent or from lack of trying (even though I’ve suggested that from time to time).

Think of a standard song such as Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots are Made for Walking”, sung in a normal pop fashion with easy-to-understand lyrics. Now go listen to the same song interpreted by the band, Megadeath. It’s a completely different vibe. Unless you understood the lyrics, you might not recognize it at all. Clearly, Megadeath’s aim is something other than a straightforward cover of a 1966 pop song. I think that’s what I’m getting at. Okay, so this goofy idea popped into my head. And I could be totally wrong.