It’s pouring. Literally, sheets of rain are slamming my tent. I keep saying, “Well, it can’t rain any harder.” And then BAM! It kicks it up a notch. But it’s coming straight down, so the tent should be OK. Key word being tent.
I was sitting here beating myself up for another short day (13.9 miles)… but there are camping restrictions for the next 10 miles, and that 10 miles is my stomping ground (Pulpit Rock, Pinnacle), and those 10 miles would have taken me until 9 PM. So here I am at Winsor Furnacr Shelter at 4 PM, and BOOM! The skies abruptly empty.
This rain. This rain. I fell twoce today on the slick rocks. Today my feet finally rebelled by giving me blisters that were like.., stabbity. I used my last wet wipes to shovel the muck off my feet, and the skin on top of my toes has been scraped raw by friction. Two of my toenails fell off (one yesterday, one today). But the worst is this stupid short mileage, which is killing my confidence.
OK, the rain’s down to a steady fall. Good thing, because I’m now sitting on a lake. It’s starting to recede, though. Hopefully things are OK underneath me.
I’m definitely OK, because I got 6 pounds of candy in Port Clinton. 😁👍 What a great place that is! I don’t know what all the whining on Guthooks is about. I could have done a decent short-term resupply there. Then again, I’m stoveless, so I eat mostly nuts and dried fruit and trail mixes and candy anyway.
Tomorrow: Shelter to second shelter, I think. Maybe that’ll break my slump. Also, these Darn Toughs are for the bin. Holes in both of them, and all these blisters! Yeah, I know there’s a guarantee, but I’m not carrying these disgusting stinking things past the next trash can. Besides, I wore them for 500 miles. That’s plenty to expect from a pair of socks.
What else? Salamanders, +1. And after midday tomorrow, I’ll be walking away from home instead of toward it.