7/27/2010: Alot of Rain

(If you haven't already looked at the Hyperbole and a Half blog. Do so immediately and read the post about "alot.")

Today we awoke to the sound of pitter patter pitter pat...rain. As we lay there, bladders aching, we hoped for it to stop. It did not. Eventually I caved and made a dash for some tp and the nearest rock. Robert has a much stronger bladder and waited stalwartly for about another hour or so. I'm not sure because I went back to sleep in protest. When I eventually awoke again, Robert was gone and had been very busy unloading the supply boxes from the car, stashing each under it's own dry-ish tree. He proceeded to make us the best mochas you can imagine: 1 packet Swiss miss hot chocolate, 1 packet Colombian VIA (starbucks instant coffee), 4 scoops Nestle Nido instant whole milk (Mexican baby formula), and boiling water of course. The milk we discovered in my new backpacking cook book, much better than the nonfat instant dry milk powder we had been using. You can find it in the Hispanic Foods section. It's the giant canister with a smiling baby in the side. :)

Our rain shelter worked, okay, but we were reduced to two small, dampish, seats at our picnic table. It was only okay because it wasn't raining all that hard, just consistently. Robert made us gourmet bean tacos and the day was beginning to look a little brighter. 

We made another deer friend, lurking around the edges of our campsite. We knew it was a different deer because its ears weren't nearly as massive as yesterday's deer's ears. I couldn't figure out what this dear was munching until after she left...you know how I made a dash for the nearest rock...yea. She was after that. She had stomped and dug up the ground in the exact spot where I had gone this morning. Multiple instructive materials have told me to go on hard surfaces so that animals won't dig up plants to get to the salts in urine, but I had never actually seen it happen, nor have I mastered the pee on top of a rock trick without unwanted splatter. I will have to revisit this skill apparently. Sorry, now dead plants.

As soon as the rain cleared a bit, we made a trek to go fishing/reading. The bugs get worse after rain, so we tried to go into "impervious mode." From bottom to top: hiking boots, socks, jeans, shirt tucked into jeans, rain jacket, hood up, bug net over hood (jenn method), bug net inside hood (Robert method), gloves (gardening gloves that Robert had stashed from his oil rig days). We made quite a sight. To complete the image, Robert was carrying both his fishing poles, one spinning, one fly with fluorescent orange line, and he rattled as he walked due to all the tackle in his pockets. I was carrying one blue nalgene with KIPP emblazoned on the side and a Weatherford sticker too, Robert's backpacking chair slung over my shoulder, and The Elegance of a Hedgehog, my new novel, stuck in my "butt pocket." We were quite a pair. 

We fished/read our way around the lake multiple times. It was peaceful except for two sounds: zzzzzzz (the drone of a million mosquitoes just outside my bug net and occasionally inside), and "I caught a fish!" Robert was extremely successful today and he loved it. Most were small, but when you cast three times and catch three fish, who can complain? During a dry spell, however, I convinced him to go swimming. A huge lake with crystal water and a sandy bottom, I don't care how cold it is or how overcast the sky, I'm going in! Our main goal was cleanliness, however. It's been three days and we were getting a little ripe. It took a lot of shouting and grunting, but we both made it in, submerged and scrubbed. Then there was some naked fishing, I won't say by whom. (whoever it was that was fishing naked would like to specify that he *ahem* that person, caught a fish while naked)

Sidebar: Mountain Blue Jay
I have started to notice birds more and more. When there aren't deer digging up your pee or chipmunks bathing themselves, there are always birds to watch. My current favorite is this very shy, what I shall call, Mountain Blue Jay. He is about the size of a regular blue jay, but he is dark deep blue on the bottom half of his body and it fades into black on his head. He also has a wonderful mohawk on his head, giving him a true pointy little head, Dad. I'd love to know the real name of this guy if anyone knows and I will continue working on getting a picture. There were ample opportunities today while reading; he must have known I left the camera at home and my home I do mean, campsite. Whenever I come across something that I can't identify, it earns the name Mountain XX. There were Mountain Bluebonnets in Yellowstone and something else that now escapes me and my partner in adventure.

I was having trouble warming up after our delightful swim, so I headed back home to start a fire. Robert was quite toasty, despite his bare feet (he eventually donned some clothing) probably because of all the fish catching and releasing. I made a fire just fine, but I struggled keeping it going and getting it blazing. That is normally Robert's job. Maybe I still have more to learn about this fire business after all. Regardless, my fire limped along after a few false starts and some cutting board waving to encourage proper oxygenation. 

I decided to start making my dinner since we were eating independently tonight and as soon as I had sliced my tofu for the fryer, I heard the first rumble. Robert's head barely peaked the hill leading back to our camp when the deluge began. Our rain shelter proved more than inadequate. We cursed our decision to return the gazebo multiple times. I ate my nicely fried tofu in the three inches of dryish space directly in front of the propane stove. Robert huddled at my side munching bread and butter, the only other edible bits under our supposed "rain shelter." Collectively we ate through an entire block of tofu and an entire loaf of french bread. Thankfully, we didn't eat the entire Tupperware of butter. 

As we watched the wind howl through our tent, we were pretty sure there would be leakage as there inexplicably was during the last storm in the back country. We took the tent the REI in Bozeman, set it up and had it inspected. The man suggested we seam seal the bottom seams, but we hadn't done it yet since it is a delicate and timely procedure. Hence, almost certain leakage. We plotted how to set up the big tent during a lull in the storm. Poles first, then we made a break for it. Our tent proved too large for the tent pad which almost foiled the whole procedure, but we adapted as we do best and allowed one corner to fall off the side. By the time the tent was staked, there were bright blue skies and only a distant rumble as the storm had moved on down the valley. I tried not to be too disappointed that our plan was foiled and focus instead on the last of wet falling from the sky. 

Robert immediately wanted to do more fishing; he is a little obsessed, perhaps. Then he barbecued chicken. Most of our recent hikes have included some conversation similar to the following: "you know what I want to eat when we get back?" "no. What?" "mashed potatoes with cheese, asparagus about an inch and a half thick, broccoli that is still crispy, and... Barbecued chicken!" tonight he got his bird. 

Now it is cold and our once blazing fire is dying. Time to go enjoy the dry, very large tent.    

Oh. We have decided to forgo the backpacking trip here due to the propensity of storms and the leaking of the tent and the mosquitoes.

Sidebar: Time
My watch still runs on central time. This leads to lots of fun mistakes and constant inquiries such as: what time is it? Xxx is that our time or their time? The fun part is that my response is always the same: our time. I will only ever give you the time in our time. And yet...this conversation continues to repeat itself.

Sidebar: Bug Nets
Wearing a bug net all the time makes you forget it is on. I have lost count of the number of times I have tried to eat only to be stymied by the presence of army green mesh. Then there was the time that I decided to drink through it just to see what it was like. Fun, except that it is difficult to gauge where the liquid is in relation to your lips due to nerve overstimulation from the bug net leading to some manner of drinking problem whereby I end up with water down my front. Then there was the time that Robert spit into his bug net...I'll leave it at that.