1878 – 1890
This could be the last week of my hike. It’s starting to look cold. I like a challenge but I hate being wet and cold for too long.
The ride back to the trail was included in the price of the room. Good ole Russ went the extra mile and drove me all the way to Windigo Pass. We talked about fire fighting and EMTing and how awful it is to get called out to a drunk driving accident and find out the fatalities are people you know.
It really wasn’t warm at all. I put on all the stuff and hiked till it got dark. When I got to Summit Lake, it was raining a little. Not much, just some plink plink droplets. I stumbled around looking for a flat spot. “Hello?” Said a voice in the dark. Someone in a tarp tent, are you kidding me? And I thought I was wet and cold.