I basically hand Dobby up to Jon and, for the second time, I realize I don’t know how I would have navigated this portion of the trail without him. We come to a waterfall that probably isn’t a waterfall when it hasn’t been raining for hours on end and we have to scale the rocks as the water cascades down on top of us. I take my raincoat off during a lull in the rain and when it begins to precipitate again, I’m too lazy/hot to put it back on. My shirt, on the other hand, gets plenty damp. We only have six miles to go and nothing can dampen my spirits. He’s putting out all the stops, being as adorable as possible, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to get adopted into a family that won’t make him hike out in this rain. BUT THEN I REMEMBER WE’RE GOING TO TOWN TODAY!!! It doesn’t matter how much it rains, how much mud I have to swim through, or what gear gets wet because we’re going to sleep in a BED tonight.Īs I begin to make breakfast and pack my things (without leaving the comfort of my sleeping bag), Dobby cuddles with the Canadian couple who shared the shelter with Jon and me the previous night. Noooooooo, I think, this will NEVER dry. I think I would rather deal with curious bears than wet gear. My feet reflexively cringe inward, away from my soggy sleeping bag. I open one eye and glance toward my feet to see rain slanting in through the shelter opening. I groggily stir awake to the sound of rain on the shelter roof and the feeling of dampness.
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