1980: The Boundary Trail, page 13

I strung up my tarp to block the wind.

Yesterday before the heavy rain started I heard something clattering around up on the shelter’s roof. I went out to look and found a huge owl trying rather unsuccessfully to perch upon the slanted, shingled roof. It had the most pissed-off expression on its face. We stared at each other for a moment, then as I ran around to the front of the shelter to get my camera it flew away.  (The owl, not my camera!)

That was the one and only highlight of the past 24-hours. I don't like the inactivity of just sitting here waiting for the weather to clear. But, looking at it statistically, we have seven more days left and it is fairly unlikely that, given the season and the location, it will rain for seven solid days.  So my chances for some dry days are even or better, I'd say. But then, I got a C in my statistics class at the good old U-Dub. Now I'm depressed again.

However I am really glad that we did not head for the crest today. It's in the high 40's to low 50's here, so I imagine it could be snowing up there. Micki has roused herself from the sleeping and is now contentedly chewing on a stick over in the corner of the shelter. We will both eat well tonight – I'm getting rid of that Blueberry Cobbler!

It is raining heavily again at 4:55 PM. This much water belongs in the ocean, not the sky. The clouds flow over the mountains, their soft underbelly sliced open by the jagged peaks. They are dropping their life's fluid upon me and I don't appreciate it. But the forest murmurs happily and sucks up each droplet.

There certainly have been worse times.  Like my first big hike from Stevens Pass to Snoqualmie Pass, when I was in rain for six out of seven days with only a 5 x 7' tarp and a polyester sleeping bag.  One day I slipped off a log while crossing a creek; it took hours before I quit shivering in my wet sleeping bag. At least now I'm prepared and have good equipment so if this shit does hang on, we can deal with it. Not happily, mind you, but safely and competently.

7:40 PM. It's getting colder. It could even snow here tonight. I put my tarp up across the front of the shelter in an effort to block some of the wind. It leaves about a nice three-foot wide doorway, but it does take away most of the light, so I either have to stand by the doorway to read or use my flashlight.  It gets dark around 8PM, and we will be in 'bed' by then. Tomorrow I must dig down into the bottom of my pack and get out the new week's food supply.