Wahtum Lake to Columbia Gorge 06/1-4/2010 ABORT!

HOLY HELL! >:(

I realize that the weather in this area of the world is very difficult to predict. I also realize that this year (2010) it has been a very unusual year for weather.

But I still think that when a TV station calls it's self "Acu-weather" for what I assume is suppose to mean "accurate" weather, they would know the difference between "slight chance of drizzle" over "the sky is dumping its guts out all over you."

We had originally planned this trip to leave on Wednesday, but the 'slight chance of drizzle' made us hold off until Thursday. We arrived at Wahtum Lake last night at around 6:30 in the evening. Jim set up dinner (meat loaf, potatoes, and carrots, that I had baked earlier in the day at home) on a picnic table at the trail head. He then started a wonderful, cheerful, fire to eat by.

I set up the tent, while Ben gathered firewood. It was decided that Jim would sleep in the tent with me, and Ben and the dogs would sleep in the Jeep.

In the morning Ben and I were to set out on our hike. Jim would pick us up down in the Columbia gorge on Sunday afternoon.

OK! Great! We had a plan!

Before going to bed I wandered over to the outhouse that is provided by the forest service. It is such a luxury to actually sit on a toilet in the woods. I didn't want to miss this opportunity. When I went to reel off some toilet paper the most awful, loud, high pitched groan screeched out from the paper dispenser. It made me jump to my feet, dropping my pants down on the yucky floor.

It was getting full dark, so I hurried back toward the firelight where the fellas were waiting.

When I cozied up to the heat, I noticed that Jim was staring intently out into the darkness back in the direction I had just come from. "Did you hear that animal?" He asked. I said, "No" and looked back over my shoulder. He continued, "It was sort of a loud groan......" his voice trailed off into the darkness that was gathering in around us. Than it hit me what he was talking about.

I smiled, and tried not to laugh when I said softly, "That was the toilet paper dispenser in the outhouse." We all had a laugh at our wild beast.

Ben and I were planning on an early start in the morning, so we all crawled into our sleeping bags, in our assigned spots. Over head the slight sound of rain started to pitter-patter on the top of the tent. I was not worried. I had already thought about rain as a possibility, because I know that the weather forecasters in this area are all full of rotten, stinking, horse manure.

Earlier when I had chosen the area to set up our tent, I had studied the area very closely. I avoided all the low places. I put the tent fly on very tightly, making sure that the guide lines were pulled taunt. This way any rain would flow off the tent fly and not into the tent. It is also important to remember to tuck any ground cloth up under the sides of the tent so water won't run underneath.

Yes, I felt very smart. Very prepared, when the first little drops of friendly rain started to fall on our beautiful spot in nature. Jim was set up across from me on a Big Agnes insulated sleeping mat, in Ben's rated to zero down sleeping bag. He was snug as a bug in a burrito. I rolled over to settle into my down Mountain Hardwear sleeping bag to the sound of deer lightly stepping through our camp.

I gazed lovingly over at my darling husbands face peeking out from his bag. He isn't into backpacking, but he goes out of his way to support me. Sometimes the drive out to different trail heads is pretty far, so he will spend the night with us, like he was this night. My heart swelled with appreciation for him.

Off and on during the night I listened to the rain. I wasn't worried. Oh no not me! I had prepared! I am backpacking woman!! Fear no rain when you are with me!

Jim snored pleasantly beside me. This was my signal that he was sleeping warmly. No worries.

At four in the morning I could not ignore the call of nature that my bladder was yelling at me. I had been waiting for the rain to let up for about an hour, or more. It just continued to pour down steady, so I made my break out of the tent.

Jim was hot on my heels. He had put on my headlamp and was wildly swing the light all around the camp. "It's four in the morning....and it is not going to stop raining!" he stated over to where I was squatting on the ground.

After we crawled back into the tent I noticed that the floor over by Jim was wet. He had stuffed his heavy jacket into the corner of the tent. I picked it up and it was completely soaked with water. I checked the bottom of his sleeping bag....soaked! His sleeping pad had turned into a raft!!!! I was on the dry side of the tent, but poor Jim had been laying up against the side of the tent, allowing water to pool all around him.

"Are you cold?" I questioned. "No" he answered. "OK, let's go back to sleep and deal with this in the morning." I rolled over and dreamed deeply....this is just a bump in the road to me.

In the morning I look over at Jim and he said, "Now tell me again.....why do you like this?" I said something stupid about the sound of the rain on the tent, and nature, and being away from civilization. He didn't say anything for a few minutes and then said, "Let's get the hell out of here."

While driving back to Vancouver with a car full of wet gear the sky turned blue, and the sun came out. We took our jackets off and rolled down the windows.

Do you think that it is murder to shoot a TV weather person?