Weathering the Storm

"We can skin a buck; We can run a trout line," I lay here inside my MSR Hubba NX tent listening to A Country Boy Can Survive play in the background at our campsite. A fellow hiker, who goes by the trail name "Rangler", plays it on his phone and sings broken up parts of the classic Hank Williams Jr. song. 

I'm trying to drown out the sound in the foreground, as hail beats down on our tent and a pool of water forms underneath it, mimicking a waterbed. Suddenly, Kevin and I hear a scream. "Guys! Can you help me? Water is rushing into my tent," "Cuban B" (that's his trail name) yells out.  He's camping a few feet away from us during this flash flood on July 8.

We just spent the last six straight hours walking through this storm in the Plumas National Forest. The saying is used often, "weather the storm", and at this point along the Pacific Crest Trail storms are both literal and figurative. When storms brew, it's up to us to decide how we react. You can run away or sit patiently and wait for it to pass. 

I've had to wait for an emotional storm to pass. I revealed in my last post, my excitement for walking more than two dozen miles a day is dwindling. I am drained most days. Therefore, I set a goal. I must stay until August 9, which is my birthday. This doesn't mean I'll leave that date. Instead, it gives me a goal to look forward to on days where I'm not motivated or don't feel well. I just tell myself "August 9, it's not too short and it's not too long. Give this a chance." 

My lack of excitement shouldn't be confused with a bad day on the trail. I've actually never had a bad day. I love my fellow hikers, the camaraderie, the town visits, the views and nightly campfires at the campsite. 

As of now, this literal storm scares me more than the emotional one. Imagine someone firing a Taser right about your head, that's exactly what it sounded like as electricity shot off in the clouds. When lightning struck, Kevin counted the seconds until thunder rumbled, to see how far away the bolt was based on the speed of sound.

My WeatherTech rain gear couldn't even hold up to this amount of rain. Two pairs of soaking socks later, we decided 15 miles was enough for the day- as it felt like 30.

The next day, the rain came again and there's no need for me to repeat this same story. 

But there's always a silver lining after a storm. This time it's the fact California received rain. It also made Kevin and I appreciate the next few days of sunshine.

Someone else who is "weathering the storm" is my step-mom and her three sisters. They recently lost their mother to brain cancer and their father battles with his health too. Please send prayers, good vibes or whatever your means of encouragement is. 

Check out the action video of us hiking in the rain by clicking here. Don't forget to follow me on Facebook, where I revealed last week we past the halfway point of the trail and are nearly 1,500 miles deep. Canada here we come!