Lightning strikes, then the thunder rolls.
We left Rawlins early this morning with heavy packs full with five liters of water each. We aimed to hike around 30 miles to the nearest non-saline water source. It was a nice morning, cool and cloudy. The hills became greener and wetter than in the Basin.
Late in the afternoon dark gray clouds filled the skies south as we crested Bridger Pass, different looking clouds than we’ve seen. They were heavy and thick and slow moving. We wondered whether we should hike on through the storm to get to Muddy Creek and water, or pitch our tent and ride it out. After discussing while the bolts struck and thunder rolled around us, we decided to pitch. The wind picked up as we were setting up and we wondered if maybe it was better to hike on, at least the wind wouldn’t rip us apart, we may just be uncomfortable. Our tent is made of less durable materials than we are.
In the end we set up, crawled in, and counted the time between the flashes and thunder.
“What Sesame Street character do you most identify with?” Jacob asked me.
“Big Bird. What about you?”
“The Count. When I was young I would count in my head to help me sleep. One time I made it to ten thousand.”
This is what we talk about while riding out a storm.
The storm raged for two hours. In that time we cooked dinner, which we haven’t done in our tent since a night in the rain in the Cascades on the PCT, talked a bit, and generally sat very close in this little home of ours.
Now the clouds have since broke and it’s quiet save a pack of coyotes howling. The sun is long gone and Jacob is sleeping beside me.
I guess sometimes you just have to ride out a storm.