Unstealthed [mile 2030.9; SOBO 1012.5]
So much happens in a day out here that it sometimes feels like every day is twelve days long. I don’t remember if the inside world was like that.
It rained overnight, just like it was supposed to. For some reason I can’t fathom, I slept fantastically well. Somerimes it all just randomly adds up: good temperature, flat ground, enough soft dirt that my air mattress isn’t like a rock, I don’t know; all I know is that good, dreamful sleep has been a rarity, and last night I got about eight hours of it. Bliss!
So I woke up in the rain and I packed up in the rain, and actually managed to keep the tent and the footprint dry. It only took 2000 miles to figure that out! The fly was still wringingly saturated, but what can you do? As Meatloaf says, Two out of three ain’t bad.
Then I walked in the rain and fog. It was too miserable to take many pictures. It was really too miserable to be out walking, truth be told, but what are you gonna do? Gotta get home somehow!
It was raining too hard to eat, even too hard to brush my teeth. My high-test mittens were completely soaked and useless, which is going to be a problem tomorrow.
But I digress again! At around 10:00 AM, the trail passed under I-80. I was just thinking that all I wanted was a bit of roof overhead so I could sit a minute, et voila! In the underpass someone had built a pair of benches.
I couldn’t sit long because of the cold, but there I was, feeling grateful for just a little bit of real estate under a bridge. Makes you think, doesn’t it?
After that… well, nothing. It rained and I walked until I had a meltdown and pitched my tent.
So here I am, in all my puffy glory. The rain has stopped! It’s now windy as hell, and freezing. Maybe Mary Poppins will blow in with a portable apartment. Heated, of course.