Since monsoon season set in several days ago, my hikes are limited to those breaks between cloudbursts. I timed it wrong, which meant the last 20 minutes of the hike were enough to test the value of my new Quik Dry garments from Sierra Trading Post.
I was literally soaked to the skin.
The good news is that I was dry within minutes of getting into shelter. The bad news is that I have not invested quite as much woods time as I’d anticipated.
The other bad news is that roughing it gets harder as the body ages. I thought it was just me. But no, my mentor Barry Keegan, currently building a longhouse, has noticed that it’s getting harder to do what he could do just ten years ago.
I’ve been reading, even more than writing. I often use reading as an excuse not to write. I watch the raging flood waters and think about how we had very little snow this past winter and no rain in April. I think of the ripening blueberries.
Next weekend is a holiday weekend. I hope all this rain will reduce the forest fire threat. I dug down through about four inches of leaf litter, and the earth was dry. I think of An Inconvenient Truth and I shudder.
A young robin follows its parent in the hunt for earthworms. Four, maybe five, baby squirrels have discovered the feeders and comb the ground for dropped seed.
It felt really good to get soaked to the skin, knowing I was heading home. It’s an entirely different experience in a survival situation. But despite its impact on my extended woods stay, I’m really grateful for the rain.