Date: 2013-04-28
From: A mile shy of little laurel shelter

To: Jerry Cabin Shelter
Miles today: 8.0
Weather: light rain

The famous saying on the trail is "No rain, no Maine." Quite an unfortunate predicament I'd say, particularly if you asked me today. Overall it's been an unfortunate week, really; with Dan getting so sick, and us waiting around all those nice days. Even the expense, not only of time but money as we back tracked to Hot Springs and shelled out more cash for accommodations. Anyhow, none of the rain approximations seemed too terrible yesterday when we headed out. The sky drizzled here and there, and even stopped long enough for us to pitch our tent. Our clothes were damp, but more from perspiration than precipitation, and though we didn't make it the anticipated mileage, our spirits were high to be making headway again. We huddled into our tent, warmed our bags and nibbled on snacks. We hosted a snacktime boogie down, where we danced around - within the confines of the tent at least - and further munched on the excess of food we'd packed out. As the wind picked up we listened to the noises we could not see beyond the walls of our abode. "What do you think that is, making that noise?" Dan asked. "Velociraptor. I recognize the sound from Jurrasic Park." Dan unzipped and poked his head out the side of the tent, "Show yourself! Whatever you are making that noise!" I suppose nothing materialized, as upon his return, he stated, "I think it's the trees." Either that or he had a fierce staredown with the velociraptor, forcing it to retreat due to the seriousness in his gaze, and he simply didn't want to startle me. I suspect the latter. Either way we were not disturbed or torn to shreds. It was easy to doze off with the mild patter of the rain above us, but not as easy to jump out of our bags when morning reared it's vengeful face. We speculated how long we should wait for the rain to cease before packing up. We easily settled back into our bags and books with rain as our mode of procrastination. Surprisingly it didn't take long for the rain to pause, and we were jumping to action at the break. Most everything was packed, and the tent was the last of it. The weather held off till right near the end. That perhaps seemed very kind of Mama Earth on our behalf. I know I wandered from our site with quite the positive outlook. It wasn't long before the rain started picking up. It wasn't long before we were soaked, top to bottom, above and below our jackets. We took gratitude in the tough climb that started the day. Our blood pumped and we were warm. It was in my head that the rain would usher us on to our final goal. I knew we would not want to stop for long with the dampness chilling us. It seemed that perhaps the rain could be a positive. As we ascended and descended the voluptuous curves of the mountains our path became muddier, and then swampy, and finally we were cruising down a river. We splashed through the puddles, the logic being that there were already minute ponds within our footgear. "It would be hard to walk this trail avoiding these puddles, our boots are already soaked, might as well keep the water fresh," Dan remarked as we splashed on. There were points where the water we stepped into rose above our ankles, and frequently the mud below would suction to my boot, momentarily holding me back. Our attitudes remained cheerful. We splashed through with childlike playfulness. It all seemed fun, but there is only so long your body can fight the cold when covered in sopping, wet clothing. Our motions no longer were warming me, and Dan's fingers had an exceptional resemblance to prunes. We also agreed that the skin on our feet would certainly shed, and we'd risk infection if we were to push through for the full twenty miles we were going for. The rain was beginning to get to us; the cold, the wet, the way that it never stopped falling down on us, even for a moment. I sighed triumphantly, I didn't want to give up. I was beginning to feel frustrated. Though we had time to push forward in the upcoming days, I was feeling behind. Somehow the non-existent schedule, the very one we had been avoiding was weighing me down. It didn't matter either way, my mind could not use these motivating factors to conquer the moans of my body. We didn't make it past the shelter much. Although we resisted the urge to curl up in the shelter, we forfeited to pitching our tent only yards away. Now it was time to be frustrated by the ceaseless rain in my attempt to keep the inside of our tent dry. Though we erected the tent quickly, we still were soaked ourselves. I stripped down to my underpants and tank top, and crawled in, carrying a string of curse words with me. It took me next to no time to swap out the wet remaining articles of clothing clinging to my body. Dan seemed frozen. He sat dripping and shivering in his shirt and underwear. I urged him to get on some dry clothes, but he continued to sit for longer than I could imagine handling before taking action. Finally we were both on our way to warmth. It was time we were fighting the frigid temperatures that had soaked into our bones within the luxury of our down bags. The feeling is one that I try and focus on as we hike in such treacherous conditions. Being dry, and warm in my bag after a day where I feel like I will never know the feeling again is supreme.