Part 2
The cottony clouds build and soon it becomes overcast. Out of nowhere, it starts to hail. Ice chips fall between our packs and shirts and pound on our hats. Hail quickly turns to a soaking rain and we find ourselves drenched. We pull off our packs, locate our rain gear, and put the gear on over wet clothes. Maybe halfway to our destination, we are wet, cold, hungry and there is no place to pitch our tent on the side of this mountain. We carry on, managing to lift heavy, water-soaked shoes and pants over, around, or under fallen timber that blocks the trail. More hair-pin turns, more stream crossings, and finally, the terrain levels off.
Dusk is setting in and we’ve come to terms with the fact that we won’t be making our destination tonight. We are relieved when a meadow and level ground comes into view. Inspired to move quickly, within moments, the tent pops into place, and we are huddled close to a fire, eating a cooked, freeze-dried meal.
Hours later, the indirect light of dawn wakes us. We peer out the tent door to get the lay of the land and size-up the day. Soon, we are warmed with a cup of coffee while we watch sunrays that hit the wet meadow retreat into a steamy fog. While the oatmeal-cranberry-nut-date concoction simmers, we set up a makeshift laundry line between a couple of fir trees to hang out wet clothes.
To be continued…
