Rain? Snow?

Something fell from the sky in the middle of the night, but the pattering on the tent didn’t last long.

I slept long and deep, and in the morning when the light started illuminating the rimrock across the way, I knew the forecasted storm day could as easily be a non-storm day, or one of many types of days. The weather out in the desert does its own thing, but at least dramatic skies were a guarantee.

The trail entered the Wilderness and wasn’t a trail so much as a haphazard user trail with old footprints. At the footings for a once-there footbridge, I turned my sights up: it was time to climb. The guidebook said something about an old trail, and partway up I found a path and followed it to the top. Glimpses back at the canyon were lovely, especially as patches of blue swirled in the cloudy sky.

Up top I met the wind…my hiking companion today. I put wind layers on and battened down the hatches…even getting my fleece and rain mits out. It wasn’t too long before snow started flying, then it took on a sideways slant and started building up in leeward piles on my coat and pack.

I battled through it for a bit before seeing a depression in the earth that could serve as a windbreak while I put the tent up. The wind was trying to blow me over by this point. I put it up, climbed inside, and into my sleeping bag as the snow accumulated. I decided to have an early lunch…I had a feeling the storm would last a while.

About two hours later I emerged to a quickly melting landscape, and not long after the sun had sucked it all up. The squall was gone.

All the better for the skies.

Today had long road walking miles. Actually, this whole section is a dirt road walk.

One tire tank was dry. One dirt tank had water, and since I decided to rely on this water source, I sucked it up and dipped into the muck. It wasn’t as bad as some water I’ve had, I was able to step on the frozen shore and dip without getting my feet wet, but it was close to the worst. 🤢

I left three liters as is to filter later and groaned my pack back on. Whose idea was it to do 20 miles between water sources with a 7-food carry? That decision by an optimistic previous version of myself was delusional. This was a lot.

I plodded down the road and slowly walked my way around Poison Butte, and was saved by a full tire tank of water. I replaced the foul stuff with much less foul stuff.

The sun was out, but the wind was windy, and cold.

My energy and willingness to be blasted by the wind was waining, and I knew it was time to make camp before I tripped on the chaos of the chunky hard mud disaster once called a dirt road. The walking on this mess was challenging.

I waddled over to an overlook of the Jarbidge River, and finally put the beast of burden down.

I made camp with a view and started my progression to horizontal, snug as a bug, but first, food. I needed to lighten this pack.