Day 3
July 15, 2003
Today's miles: 11.5
Total miles: 33
Destination: Campsite on Harness Lake

Counting the one I just plucked off my tooshie, that makes eight ticks for today. Good thing I tucked my pant legs into my socks and wore a floppy hat, or I'm sure there would be more than that one tick clinging to my skin. Just to be sure, though, I'll feel around a bit after I finish this entry about today's twelve hours of hiking. Make that bushwhacking.

There were times when the "undergrowth" was well above our heads. Sometimes, the only way Allen and I could determine the route was by looking for cut logs where a volunteer trail maintainer had removed a blowdown. At other times, we slogged through ankle-deep water and picked our way across beaver dams, hoping they'd hold and not have any holes hidden in thigh-high grass.

Speaking of holes, poor Allen found three of them the hard way. And down he went. He also slipped when crossing a stream. Cut his hand on that one. And he involuntarily ate two mosquitoes. Went right down his windpipe, producing quite the coughing fit. Twice I heard hacking and wheezing behind me in the distance, and wondered if I might have to go for help ... which is a long way from here. Luckily, Allen survived both mosquitoes, three wipeouts, one big splash, and, I almost forgot, two head-clunks when he was looking down and didn't see the trees lying forehead-height across the trail, only to land on his butt just before we reached camp, when a small rock beneath his foot turned over. Each time he fell, clunked his head, or inhaled a foreign body, I made sure he was okay before I did any giggling.

Oh, and about last night. That storm came right for us. The first big gust of wind was the strongest, but the rain came down hard for a while. It didn't take long for us to realize that we'd set up the tarp in a very bad spot. All of Allen's side and the lower half of mine were pools within minutes. As the lightning flashed, with simultaneous claps of thunder, I busied myself with Allen's orange cat-hole digger, making drainage ditches in a futile attempt to get some of the pooled water to run away from the tarp, not to mention distract myself from my fear of lightning. Luckily, the worst of the storm was over in about twenty minutes, but the rain continued. Somehow, I managed to keep my sleeping bag, Z-rest pad, and my clothes bag dry.

We'd planned to choose a location for the tarp carefully tonight, in case we have another downpour or a long, steady rain, but, as it turns out, our options in this tiny campsite are limited to one, and it's definitely not a good spot if it rains. So far, the sky is clear and the temperature cool, but the night has just begun.


--Ramkitten