WalkingCarrot

Add grim but console ourselves we are not being battered like a Florida hurricane

Rain fell all night long, beginning before we made camp and never stopping. Sometimes it was just a steady rhythm but sometimes it fell harder. The tent failed to keep us dry. Most of the night heavy raindrops spattered on the tent with enough force to not only shake lose some condensation but to also drive some rain through which fell as a heavy mist inside the tent. Our upturned faces became damp and the top of the sleeping bag became wet. Fortunately the bag cover material did a decent job of keeping moisture out of the down.

Moisture also seeped into the tent’s floor. The corners were conduits for water but anywhere that an object touched the floor water came in. At the foot end of the tent, where we had left the wet rain gear a small puddle formed. A slight slope kept it there.

The sleeping bags linen bottom was wet where it had been against the tent floor. We were sure that after we stuffed the bag away for the day, the down would not later come out dry.

By morning the empty pot we left outside had about an inch and a half of water inside it.

We awoke and waited for a break in the rain. It never came, Finally we packed up anyway with rain still falling and set out at about 9:30. The trail was flooded over in low lying sections from last night’s inundation. We crossed many creeks that had sprung up in normally dry drainage or that were flowing above their normal banks. The wet fords were too numerous to count. Most were probably nothing more than rock hops in normal conditions.

We got lucky and the sun broke through around noon. With clouds rolling in and out the sunlight was only occasional but it might be all we would get so we stopped to try and dry things out. Both tent and sleeping bag dried just in time to see the sun go away around 1pm for the last time today. The surrounding mountain peaks came out of hiding for a few hours as the cloud ceiling raised itself above them. A white dusting of fresh snow was revealed.

We several southbound weekenders and several horse packers.

Our progress was slowed some by my continued stomach pains which now became a full fledged gastro-intestinal disorder requiring several extra stops and making you appreciate the at-home luxury of indoor plumbing. Enough said.

We made 19.9 miles the hard way, through rain and pain, arriving closer to dark than we had planned on or wanted. The night was cold and the pitter-patter of rain continued so we cooked from the tent reaching out as far a possible to set up the stove. Still, it took over an hour for the toes to warm up

Phil “Nowhere Man” Hough