2003 AT trip report Day 2

Monday, May 5
Brown Gap

I wake up to the pitter patter of rain on the hammock.  Dang.
I get up and start packing.  No movement comes from the
two tents.

I voice my opinion that it's not going to stop raining, and the
other two start packing up.

It rains.  Rain, rain, rain.  I arrive at the gap where the
shelter is supposed to be.  There's a path.  I follow
it.  There are footprints on it.. there must be a shelter,
right?

Eventually the footsteps peter out and I'm in the middle
of some very nice evergreens.  No shelter.  I go back
to the trail and notice the real path to the shelter, 20
yards down the trail.  Oops.  Once at the real shelter,
I strip and put on warm clothes for the lunch break.

After lunch we put our cold wet clothes back on and
keep walking.   We considered staying at the shelter
but it was early and we wanted to go a bit further.
The campsite we aimed at turned out to be notso hotso,
but we set up anyway.  Nothing else in the vicinity
seemed better.

Getting down to the campsite involves a steep slope
no matter how you do it.  We wipe out.  I do some damage
to the seat of my Provent pants, sliding butt first.

I set up my hammock on a slope, leaving the tiny valley
floor to Leapfrog and 10-kid (Nancy's new trailname.)
It's been raining quite a while and it's still dry, so it might
be okay.

During the night they find that it's not okay.  The waters
begin to rise.  The Nomads turn into small waterbeds.

Leapfrog feels unwell during the night.  I don't feel
so hot myself.  But at least I'm pretty dry.

10-kid shouts over the rain that if a car comes, she's
getting a ride.  Sometime during the night, a car does
come.  She shouts over the rain.  I can barely hear her.
Not wanting to get out of my hammock, I say "Do you
really want to leave that badly?"  Silence.  "If you
feel the same way in the morning, we'll find a way out"
I tell her.  The car has moved on anyway.

Lightning crashes.  It rains really really hard.  I
put in my earplugs to sleep.

It was blurry, but nice

It was a no-good, dreary, rainy day.  It was like that yesterday too, but sans rain.  At least yesterday I could go outside, even if I couldn't go out and soak up some sun.  Yesterday I went out and walked for a couple of miles, and there were even some pretty leaves.

See?  Pretty.

Today it rained.  Pretty much the whole day.  I went to see my dentist, which might have been awful if he were somebody else, but my dentist is not awful.  We always have good conversations.  And his daughter, whom I like, works for him, and I love to listen to their back-and-forth.  So that part was nice.  Not so nice when he was doing hurty things to my gums with small metal instruments, but nice other than that.

Around two today, on the second day of the sun not having come up and what the hell?  The sun is supposed to come up EVERY DAY.  It's in the rules.  The physical, astronomical rules.  But no.  No sun.  Stupid sun.

Anyway, around two today, I got an email asking me to go to another building.  Something that should have been working was not working, and somebody needed to go push a button.  You would think that at NASA we would have button-pushing robots, or telepathically stimulated on switches, or something.  Instead, we have a middle aged system administrator who walks over and pushes the button.  Cheaper.  More reliable.  No firmware updates.

I was happy to get the email.  I had been trying to convince myself to go for a walk out in the rain, and the parts of me that dislike being wet had been winning.  I took off my glasses first.  I am not really very near sighted, and I don't need the glasses for either walking or button-pushing.  And I hate the raindrops on them.  So glasses off.  Then I put on my rain skirt (see yesterday's blog) and my raincoat, and I stuck my phone in my pocket, and off I went.

I don't really mind walking in the rain.  What I mind is my face getting wet.  This is only a problem in light rain, when those tiny raindrops are more like mist blowing.  Very wet mist.  Today was a very wet misty rainy day.

I walked over and hit the button, and stayed to verify that the thing had really turned on.  Then I walked back to my building and emailed the fellow to let him know that his machine was working again.  Then after all that, he emailed me to say that he hoped the weather wasn't bad.  He had heard it wasn't nice out.

Huh.  I was mostly thinking about what a lazy git I was for not going out on my regular walk.  I just needed a nudge.  I had forgotten that in fact most people would not have walked the mile over to the other building.  Most people would have driven.  Or made an excuse.  "Can't do it right now, in the middle of something important.  Will get to it first thing in the morning.  (When the sun is out.)"  It would not have made a nice, if damp, change for them. 

I think this is one of those things that sets hikers aside from other people.  It's not that we necessarily enjoy going out in the rain.  Although some do.  Or being uncomfortable.  (Although some do.) It's that we've forgotten that going out in the rain isn't a regular thing.  It's just one more way to have a walk.  A sunny day, a windy day, a day with mosquitoes, a day with deer, a day with rain.  They're all different types of walking days.  

Love walking days.

I am old and I hunger

My diet went to hell in a handbasket this evening.  I was doing really well during the day.  Oatmeal for breakfast, dentistry instead of a midmorning snack, JD's special super healthy lasagna (with chicken, low fat cheese,  lots of veggies,and whole wheat pasta), yogurt and strawberries.

Then it got dark, and rained, and I had a discomfiting doctor's visit [1], and I felt all achy and yucky.

Came home, ate the little bit of ice cream left in the pint.  Then a piece of turkey bacon.  Then some thin crust pizza.  Then a microwaved apple.  And now I'm on to the hot chocolate.  Also, please note that I'm not at yoga.

I have to be at a meeting tomorrow that starts at the same time I've been dragging myself out of bed in the morning.  I'm still on antibiotics for Lyme, and although I'm feeling pretty good, I do still find myself needing more sleep.  I hope that eases up when I finish the round of doxycycline.  But what it means for me right now is that I need to get to sleep as early as I can tonight, and tomorrow morning is probably going to suck anyway.

Also, there's a 90% chance it will still be raining.

Skeered, mom.  Let's hide under covers.

[1] Oh, the doctor's visit?  I met with a new doctor at my ob/gyn practice.  I mean, he's not new himself, I've just never seen him before.  I was there to ask about Essure.  It's permanent contraception - rather than having your "tubes tied" you plug them up, and scar tissue forms around the plugs, and then your eggs can't get out to be fertilized.  Yay!  The website makes it seem like a no-brainer.

However, the doc did not give me warm fuzzies.  First, he wants me to take birth control pills prior to the surgery to thin my uterine lining so he can actually find the opening to the fallopian tubes.  If I were comfortable with taking birth control pills, I would just take them and not need another option.  My previous experience has been bad.

Second, this practice does not perform the procedure in the office. They use a surgical center an hour's drive away.

Third, this doctor insists on anesthesia.  I don't react particularly well to general anesthesia.  Not having it was one of the benefits of a non-surgical approach that I was looking forward to.  With anesthesia I'd have to have somebody drive me to the surgical center and drive me home afterward.

Fourth, several months after the procedure you have to have your uterus filled with dye, and then  have an x-ray taken.  This doesn't sound like fun either.  And if the x-ray shows that the Essure didn't work?  It's all for nothing.  And you still have to be really careful about birth control, because you're now at much higher risk for ectopic pregnancy.

Not to mention the "you MIGHT have a reaction to the nickel that will be in your body for the rest of your life.  It's not hugely likely."  Gosh, my ears hated cheap nickel earring posts.  I wonder how my fallopian tubes feel about nickel springs?

Fifth, and this part was not actually problematic for me, he won't even consider doing it while I'm being treated for Lyme disease.  The problematic part is "when are you considered healed up from Lyme disease?"  Either this coming Saturday, or in six months, or never depending on whom you ask.

Sixth, he pointed out that you get a lot less use out of permanent contraception by getting it at 41 compared to 35.  Implied:  "Just wait for menopause!"  Also:  "Old.  You're Old."

More on hiking in the rain

Corey from the class of 2011 asked me some follow up questions, and I realized I left out some details.

What is enough protection from the rain?  For your precious gear, almost nothing is enough.  But you have to be able to carry it, so a giant reliable Tupperware container is probably out.  I used layers of protection.  My most precious items were in dry sacks, and those dry sacks were tucked into a trash compactor bag with the top rolled up.  Those precious items were my sleeping bag, dry and warm clothing, first aid / medicine, and electronics.*  My sleeping pad went in there too, but it wouldn't have been a big deal to wipe it down before I used it.

My food bag and cook kit, which were going to get wet anyway, went outside the trash compactor bag.**  In theory the food bag was a dry sack, but in reality stuff got wet inside when it was hung up in the trees at night.  So my food all went into heavy duty (freezer bag) ziplocs.  Name brand.  The cheap generics do not do the job as well.

My water sack didn't need any special protection.  :)

Outside of the backpack, things like my UV pen for water sterilization, my toilet paper, and my map all went into ziplocks.  On top of that, I had a pack cover keeping some moisture off the pack.  The pack cover was less efficient than you'd think, but it was better than nothing.

I also used a layering system on my body.  From the inside out:  wicking / mesh bra, wicking long sleeved shirt (because the raincoat sticks to wet bare arms),  high tech breathable shorts, hiking socks.  Raincoat***, rain skirt****,  gaiters over boots.  Baseball cap inside the raincoat's hood to help keep the hood off my face.  In long downpours, or cold rain, it can help to put your hands into plastic bags too.   Because losing the feeling in your fingers sucks.

Corey asked how I packed up in the rain.  There are two parts to this answer.  One, I tried not to pack up in the rain.  If I knew rain was coming, I made an effort to stay at a shelter or in a motel or hostel.  Two, I packed up everything inside my tent first.  I got myself dressed, put my packcover on the pack, and put my pack outside the tent up against a tree.  My tent goes on the outside of the pack for this very reason - so I don't have to deal with stuffing it in there in the rain, and so I can get it out and set it up quickly in bad weather.

I'm afraid there is no real secret to packing up a wet tent in the rain.  You shove it in the bag as well as you can and hope for dry times later.  Or a motel room where you can set it up to dry out.

Motel rooms are handy places to stay when it's raining.  I've done that more than once.  And while I was feeling guilty about not hiking in the rain, I'd run into other hikers who had done the same thing.  So it's not that uncommon.

If you do get soaked and you have to stay in your tent or in a shelter (or hammock, etc), hanging your clothes up to dry will not dry them out.  Wring them, let them drip dry, wring ends again, then bring the items into your sleeping bag with you, one at a time.    This is not a fast process but it works.******  Start with the essentials (say, your gloves and underwear).  Put the item on your torso, where you put out a lot of heat.  An hour per item will probably do it.  Whenever you wake up to roll over, if the thing on your tummy is mostly dry, put it in the foot of your bag and bring in something else.  And in the morning your clothing will be only mildly damp.

One other point is that neither a tent nor a shelter will keep you completely protected from the rain.  Rain will blow in sideways.  Condensation will build up on your fly and then splatter down on you as more raindrops shake the fly.  So in heavy rain, everything that is not essential should stay packed or covered.  In a shelter I've used my groundcloth as a supplemental wall to keep wind driven rain off of me.  In my tent I covered my face with my hat and waited it out.  My body heat was enough to keep my bag dry despite the tiny splatters from the ceiling of the tent in cool weather.  In hot weather, I took advantage of the misting by lying there naked.  It felt amazing after a hot, sweaty day.

A motel room is a great place to dry out

When possible, bring a kitten to camp for entertainment

*Except my iphone, which went with me everywhere.  In really serious driving rain I double bagged it in ziplocs.  In steady drizzle I double bagged it, but with the ziplocs open.  Ziploc one went in ziploc two oriented 90 to 180 degrees away from ziploc two's opening.  Ziploc two's opening was pointed down or to the side in my pocket, or up but folded over.  This way my earphones could snake out without getting the iphone wet.  It was a tricky balance.

**Btw I've tried using just the trash compactor bag, or just the drysacks.  Either method alone has led to wet gear.

***Marmot Precip

****ULA equipment.  Looks silly, works *great*.  Can also be used as a small tarp for shade or sitting on.  The skirt is a lot cooler than rainpants, temperature-wise.  And wet shorts chafe so this item is worth its weight.*****

*****That's a whole 'nother post.

******Better than not drying them at all.

Long distance hiking in the rain

When you're hiking, you have a lot of control.  You choose your own gear, food, and itinerary.  You often choose your companions.  You walk at your own pace.  You can listen to your own music.  You choose what days to take off.  But there is one thing you can't control.

Weather.

Generally speaking, when you picture yourself hiking, you probably imagine nice weather.  What kind of masochist automatically pictures pouring rain?  But the reality is that if you are long distance hiking, you will eventually end up walking in the rain.  Or sooner than eventually.  Both hikes I started at Springer Mountain started in rain (and a little snow.)  Going out for long periods means you give up the ability to plan around the weather.  You can't say "Oh, let's not go this weekend.  It shouldn't be raining next weekend."  For one thing, you may not know if it's currently a weekend or not.* 

But for another, you're already there.  Likely you don't have handy transportation.  And you have a limited** amount of time (and maybe a limited amount of food) to get where you're going, so you can't just not hike when it's raining.  Thruhiking means walking when it's beautiful and also when it's utterly crappy out.

Both conditions often happen on the same day.  Multiple times.  Sun, rain, sun, rain, until you lose count.  To some extent, you might stop noticing.  You know your gear is stowed as securely as you can get it in your backpack, and you just keep hiking.  You probably think most about it when you want to get something out of your pocket, and remember that you shouldn't because moisture will damage it.***

Just hiking in the rain isn't so bad.  It can be fun.  Remember stomping in puddles?  Still fun now.  For a while.  But hiking in rain that goes on all day, or for several days or weeks at a time, loses the attraction.  Wet feet are unhappy feet.  How many pair of socks do you carry?  And how long do you think the dry pair will stay dry after you shove your blistered feet back into those wet boots?****

The first time you get soaked, you will probably want to wear your dry clothes the following day.  This is a mistake most only make once.  Because once you've gotten them wet, you have nothing dry to put on when you stop.  And that's hypothermia time.  It's vital to keep dry clothing in reserve.  And what this means, every damn wet morning, is putting on your cold. wet.  stinky. clothing.  It's shudder-worthy, but necessary.  Knowing that you have to do this is a survival skill.

If you're lucky, when you wake up with wet clothes, it's sunny and warm out.  You can put on those clothes and they'll dry while you wear them.  But likely it's not sunny and warm.  Likely it's still drizzly.  So put those dry clothes back in their drysack, camper.*****  Put on your wet stuff.  Scream if you must.  Don your raingear****** and get moving.  Stay moving until the time comes when you can set up camp and get back into your dry stuff and your nice warm sleeping bag.  Or you will be one very, very sorry person.

*Weekends are best defined by day hikers.  You see dayhikers for the first time in a while, it's probably a Saturday.

**Six months is still a limit.

***Your ipod, your toilet paper, your journal, your food, your guidebook, your one remaining dry item of clothing.

****15-65 seconds, depending on your socks.  Btw, don't wear socks at night if your feet are blistered.  Even dry socks hold in moisture.  Let your feet dry out as much as possible.

*****Or double layered trash bag, or ziplocks, or whatever method you use to keep dry things dry. 

******If you have any.  Some people don't.  I think they're nuts.