Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


Towards the end of the second day of rain. This is pretty much what teh visibility was like for most of the time. About one ridge away was all you could perceive. Wet and dripping were the words of the day, but hiking uphill kept the old core warm enough even if everything was getting wetter and wetter.

At night the temps certainly dropped. I cooked in the vestibule and watched the results of my inadequate seam-sealing job let water drops form and fall onto my stuff inside. Not good.

The next morning there was drizzle early on but it came in qwaves and I even got hit int he face with a spot of sunlight for about five minutes before it socked in again. Here's the view from just past Red Pass, which offers views clear to Mount Rainier to the south on a good day. I'll take "their" word for it.

Not alone out here after all. I think these were left by an elk or mule deer or something.

Oh crap. DEFINITELY not alone out here.


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