2187 – 2207
I awoke to the pit pat on my rainfly at sunrise. My precip anxiety was on high. I carefully dressed in dry socks and made sure my rain gear was handy. Not buried at the bottom of the Burrito like usual.
A piece of reflector graffiti reminded me to Think about today, not Canada. Easier said than done. With only one state left, a mere 500 miles, I was thinking about Canada. Ridiculous to think about Canada in October. Canada wasn’t worth 500 miles of rain and inevitable snow. Stop being stupid, Gretchen.
The all-day drizzle put a damper on that dream. I came to a small campground with a pit toilet. A roof is a roof, and those forest service toilets have a handy covered space. That’s where I pulled out my stove to cook a Mountain House meal. I’ve heard you’re not a real adventurer until you’ve slept in a bathroom. Do I get adventure bragging rights if I’ve camped in bathrooms on multiple continents?
There was a paved road with occasional traffic. I probably could’ve caught a ride to Trout Lake from there. It was tempting. I walked back into the wet woods with a touch of foreboding.
The drizzle turned to rain. I marched on through the sog. Sitting on a rock, next to nothing in particular, I found random trail magic. A can of chili and two packets of oatmeal. The oatmeal packs were not yet water saturated, so they couldn’t have been there long. Thanks for breakfast, I guess.
I came to an unprotected campsite next to a small pond. I hate setting up my tent in the rain. No matter how fast I get it up, it always gets wet inside before I can get the rainfly on. I jumped inside and tried to dry the wet walls with a damp handkerchief. That didn’t really work. Thanks to the waterproof socks, my feet were dry. My shoes were not. I had one more dry pair of toe socks. Besides that, most everything felt damp.
One thought on “Pct day 137”
You get adventure bragging rights just for being in the Cascades at this time of year. What kind of waterproof socks are you using?