Erg. It’s cold. Colder than I expected.

And look, there’s condensation on the inside of tent. A lot.

I scratch it with a fingernail.

Huh. It’s snow.

Snow has formed on the inside of my tent.

I packed up, but folding up the tent releases all the formed snow into the floor, and now I have several pounds of snow *inside* the tent.

There’s no snow outside. Just inside.
It takes a while to get it all out, and it’s quite frustrating.

I’m growing to hate this tent. This ultralight, expensive, non-freestanding tent.

My gear is somewhat wet. Not soaked, but the condensation has taken its toll. Hopefully I’ll be able to dry it out sometime today.

I climb off the mountain, and it’s mostly weaving, relatively flat trail. I filter water at a creek, and it’s cold in the shake, but manageable.

The creek has awful water. It bubbles like urine. Maybe it is urine. But my new water filter is up to the job, and I need water.

The trail gets pretty flat, a welcome change from the past week. It’s easy to move along, and then I come to a wonderful little oasis.

Wild apple trees. Lots of apples. Just pick them off the tree. Eat. Repeat.

They’re delicious. Not Delicious apples, those are dumb. They taste like honey crisp apples, and are perfectly ripe.

I sit for a while and eat some apples. Clearly bears come here often from the random bear scat.

As well they should.

The sun comes out. There’s no more clouds anywhere.


I lay out all my gear on tall wheat grass and bask in the sun and eat more apples.

This is great.

The trail remains relatively flat for a while, and then turns into some rocky, but reasonably easy ups and downs. There Are free flowing creeks with wonderfully clean water. The landscape and weather is ideal.

This is the first time I’ve actually been a bit too warm.

As I move on, the landscape changes to mostly rocks. The sun is disappearing, and there’s only rocky spaces. I decide to book it for the trail head to see what I can find.

Of course. Truck accessible campsites.
Broken glass. Toilet paper flailing in the wind.


I keep going, and eventually find a spot that a hunter is scoping out elk on. I ask him if I can share the space, and he’s cool with it, but there’s some sights with more cover a half mile down the road.

I thank him and continue on.

There’s a great campsite there, but of course it’s truck accessible.
This is a great sign

This time it’s green beer bottle shards. And used blades.

No matter. I’m out of time. My tent handled it before, it will have to handle it now.



Truck rolls by.


There was a time I would have been concerned. Now, I don’t care. Humans are a hassle, but I pose more of a danger to them than the other way around.

Back to sleep.