Sometimes I really enjoy riding in less-than-ideal conditions. The roads were quiet and there’s something beautiful (if ominous) about a drab grey sky contrasting with a colorful landscape. And once the rain started, fog started to roll in, shrouding the hills.

Admittedly, I felt a bit concerned. I had never done a hike this long (10+miles) and I had no idea what to wear for 6-7 hours of hiking in the rain. But I had waterproof* boots and a $2 poncho, so I figured what the heck? Why not? This would be a good way to test rain gear, TBB’s new stove, and our will.

* My boots claimed to be waterproof, but I had not fully tested this claim.

We started hiking around 9:45 am, in moderate drizzle. A short ways into the trail we found a box with a log book and maps. We signed in and took some maps. Our first impression was that our ponchos were working well. In addition to keeping us relatively dry, they covered our packs and allowed some breeze to flow through. The ventilation was much appreciated. They did give us a bit of a hunchback look, with our packs under there, but we made the most of it.

TBB, rocking the hunchback look. This stream popped up seemingly out of nowhere and disappeared under the rocks, and reminded me of the Orangeville Rise of the Lost River in Indiana

This trail must not see a lot of maintenance, because there were a ton of downed trees around which we had to maneuver. But the defining quality of this trail, at least to me, was all the rocks. I am not used to such rocky trails, coming from Indiana, but in this area long sections of trail basically amount to huge rock gardens. TBB tells me this trail was actually fairly moderate, in terms of rocks.

One of many fallen trees blocks the trail

The first of many sections of very rocky trail

Creek

The trail mostly climbed for the first few miles, but it was mostly very gradual climbing that was fairly easy. There were a couple of short steep sections, but nothing bad. At some point we encountered some dense fog for a good 45 minutes to an hour, making for an even more beautiful hike. We alternated between conversation and quiet hiking, getting lost in the crunch of the leaves beneath our boots, the pitter-patter of the rain drops on our hats and the sounds of the blustery wind rushing through the trees and over our ears. The trail was very straight and flat for some time. We heard a loud noise that sounded like a small engine starting. Startled, I asked, “What the hell was that?” TBB said it was a grouse; a few minutes later he spotted another one, although I didn’t see it.

Straight, flat, and easy foggy trail

Bare trees

Hiking through the fog

We crossed a gravel road, the first of several we would see. We commented that these roads would be great for cycling. Bikes aren’t allowed on the trails, but the roads were smooth gravel and looked extremely inviting.

Gravel road

Foggy, mowed clearing

Tree

More fog

After a while, the trail got considerably rockier and passed by a cranberry swamp (I think). We climbed a bit more, ending in a large, bare rock face.

Exposed rock face

Cranberry swamp

We started a long, difficult rock-riddled descent. The rocks, wet and leaf-covered, were quite slick, and there was no way to get even footing. This made it tricky to move without slipping, and the weird angles punished our ankles. We took our time and made it through safely. TBB’s poncho billowed like a trenchcoat in an action movie.

Billowing poncho

Rocks. Yes, that’s the trail.

Making progress …

We saw a small stream and wondered if it was the creek we saw on the trail map. It seemed like it might be; we were a little disappointed, expecting something bigger. TBB filtered some water from the creek, and we took a break under a hemlock tree that shielded us from the rain so well we thought it’d stopped. Some trail mix and water had us feeling more energized. Only when we started hiking again without our ponchos did we realize it was still raining, and put the ponchos back on.

Small creek

Now we had more rocks to deal with, this time going uphill. Once we reached the top of the hill, we realized we had another big, rocky descent ahead of us and suspected that the creek we had been looking for was up ahead. We could see a big mountain on the other side of the valley, and wondered if we had to climb that next.

Rocky climb

Descending into the valley

As it turned out, we were right. We took another, shorter break by this much-bigger, rushing creek and scouted out some potential campsites there. It was an incredibly peaceful scene, quiet except for the sounds of the rushing water.

Creek

Potential campsites

Another shot of the creek

We lingered for a bit, then decided to move on. TBB said, “It’s difficult to leave a spot like this,” and I couldn’t agree more. The creek was probably the highlight of the whole hike in its scenic beauty and placid setting. There was no bridge across the creek, so we crossed on some rocks. They were very wet and slick, and one was loose. We both got our feet wet crossing the creek, and I noticed a leak in one of my boots after I crossed. Air bubbles escaped from my boot with each step. Hopefully I’ll be able to reseal it.

Creek crossing

Shortly after leaving the creek we saw a handsome large buck run through the woods ahead of us. Now, we had to climb for quite a while. We encountered a couple of other hikers, who were covering the entire Pinchot trail system over the course of three days. We chatted for a couple of minutes, then moved on. This climb was rocky, but not as bad as some of the places where we had just hiked. We didn’t have to hike all the way up to the top of the next ridge, though, as the trail gradually climbed up the side as the ridge came down a bit. Still, it took a lot of effort to reach the top. Hiking on the ridge, we got some glimpses of surrounding mountains through the trees; just a few weeks earlier we wouldn’t have been able to see very much.

Climbing the ridge

Ridgetop hiking

Once we reached the top, it was flat for a while. We soon came to another road crossing and decided to make that our lunch spot. I had a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and some Cheez-Its, TBB brought his stove and made some Ramen. The hot meal was an awesome idea; next time I’m on a long, cool hike, I’ll bring my stove. The rain stopped and started back up briefly but we took off our ponchos and for a few glorious minutes, the sun came out. I took my boots off and let my socks and feet air out a bit. I wished I had brought dry socks, something I had considered doing.

Lunch spot

Testing TBB’s new stove

Cooking

The sun came out for a few minutes

Ramen

TBB’s hat, GPS and trekking poles

We started hiking again, this time without our ponchos. We soon came across a bright orange salamander. He wasn’t moving very fast, but he was still alive. It seemed awfully cold to be a salamander. A few minutes later we saw another one that wasn’t as brilliantly colored.

Salamander

It felt great to hike for a while without the ponchos. They do restrict your range of motion a bit, and also make climbing over rocks more challenging, since it’s harder to see your feet. It’s funny how something you take for granted under normal conditions — hiking relatively unencumbered — can feel like such a luxury at a time like this.

More brush covering the trail

Sometime around 3 pm it started getting darker. It had been fairly dark all day, but we were surpised at how quickly we were losing light. It was a bit disheartening, but there wasn’t much we could do about it. We did pick up the pace a little during the easy stretches. But soon we had a tricky, rocky downhill section. We had some good views as we hit the edge of the ridge and hiked down.

Reaching the edge of the ridge

About to descend. A boardwalk is visible below.

The wooden boardwalk was very slippery

We knew we were getting close to the end of the trail. We had a little difficulty figuring out which way to go. Eventually, we figured it out and before long reached the road, where we’d walk the last mile back to the car. As soon as we reached the road, the skies opened up, the wind blew harder, and the rain began pouring down on us. These were the kinds of conditions I feared we’d have all day. I was glad it didn’t rain this hard earlier in the day. Water was running down the back of my poncho. I put the hood on to stop it, but I was already drenched. We walked along the road fairly quickly, although it made no difference. We were already drenched. This was an important lesson: the ponchos worked fine when it was only drizzling, but heavy rain, especially combined with strong winds, meant we got soaked.

The road

Reaching the trailhead. You can see raindrops falling, if you look closely

TBB by the trailhead sign

Me

We were glad to be back at the car. It had been a fun hike, despite the conditions, but I think we were ready to be out of the rain, and it was getting quite dark.

This morning’s commute was strange. Rain was in the forecast, but when I looked outside it didn’t appear to be raining. I looked closer and could see a fine mist falling. I was going to ride in my work pants but decided against it. The parking lot was wet and there was more moisture falling. Once I got moving, it felt like I was riding through water droplets suspended in mid-air.

At first I thought I wasn’t going to get very wet. It still wasn’t actually raining. But as I rode more and more water accumulated on my helmet, glasses, and clothes. My wet ankles reminded me that I need to add a mud flap to my commuting bicycle. I felt water droplets on my face, and eventually enough water pooled on my face to reach my lips. The mist tasted slightly sweet. The air was thick with mist and fog, and I imagined anyone behind me must have seen the fog parted by my figure, and swirling eddies in my wake.

The mist got more aggressive during the second half of my ride, and I arrived at work quite wet but in good spirits.

I woke up late and stumbled into the second bedroom that functions as our home office. My computer was turned off and I couldn’t seem to turn it back on. I unplugged the power cord, and suddenly the computer sputtered, lights flashing and fans spinning, for about half a second, then fell silent again. It did this a few more times — with no power source connected! I was more than a little creeped out by this, and frustrated that it wouldn’t work. I messed with it for a few minutes, but ultimately gave up. I hope I’ll be able to fix it later. I used my file server to send an e-mail to work saying I’d be a bit late.

I got ready to ride to work and looked outside. Rain, as predicted. Great. When I went to extract my coffee mug from the dishwasher, I hit it on the underside of the counter where the dishwasher is screwed in, covering the mug with sawdust. I dropped the lid on the floor and it got covered in gunk. This was not going well. I almost forgot about three different items and kept having to go back for them as I continued my struggle toward the door.

Once I exited my apartment, I realized it was wet and foggy, but not actually raining much. Actually it was quite pleasant outside, a nice quiet morning. I paused to admire some buds on the trees in front of my apartment.

Budding trees

As I started riding, I felt better almost immediately. I actually like riding on cool, overcast, foggy days, if I don’t get too wet. There were very few people in sight until I reached campus, which had quite a bit of foot traffic. Some fields and paths off 7th Street approaching Jordan were flooded.

Path

Flowers have been planted on campus

When I got past campus I once again had the roads to myself. I didn’t push myself and savored the ride, knowing soon I’d be mired in work. I wished I could have ridden off into the distance.

Green light, and fog

I did take a slight detour to capture this:

Johnson’s Creamery

Even though it’s no longer a creamery, this is a real Bloomington landmark. All in all, a great ride to work. The ride home promises to be much, much wetter.

The fire alarms went off at work today and we all went outside for a while. Several fire trucks showed up and firemen entered the building. Either they didn’t find anything at all, or they only found something small. Nobody has said, and I haven’t asked.

That was some kind of excitement.

I headed out to do the Shilo Road route that I do from time to time. As soon as I got out of town I saw that the landscape was shrouded in fog. The roads were wet and sandy from last week’s snow (they tend to use more sand than salt in this area) — but my traction was good. Still, I took my time. I didn’t want to risk slipping, and I was really enjoying the scenery.

Tunnel Road

Shilo is a very twisty road with a very rough surface and switchbacks through part of it. I was a little nervous about this aspect of the ride, since the roads were wet and sandy from last week’s snow. But once again I took my time — more than I needed to, I’m sure — and my tires didn’t let me down. This was actually the first time I’d ridden on Shilo since I got my new tires and I felt a lot more stable with the wider (28mm) tires.

Switchback on Shilo Road

I had a lot of fun on Shilo — it’s mostly downhill in this direction and the twist and turns are fun, as are the numerous ups and downs. It’s a real roller coaster ride and while you could go faster if the road surface was smoother, I like the added challenge of all the bumps, potholes, poorly-patched holes and other irregularities. My camera, on the other hand, didn’t like this at all as my camera case, which goes around my stem and closes with a piece of velcro, fell off on one bump and my camera went tumbling to the ground. I didn’t even realize it until a few minutes later, so I had to turn around and go back for my camera. It still works fine.

Trees along Shilo Road

I stopped on a bridge to take some more photos. I don’t know what it is about bridges, but I frequently feel compelled to stop on them to get some shots. I guess they do tend to afford a view of … well, whatever is below.

Grimy bike

Creek

My bike by a field

Soon I was finished with Shilo Road and had a great ride back on Anderson, Old 37, Bethel, and 45. The fog thickened throughout the rest of my ride, making it a highly atmospheric, especially pretty ride. Total distance: about 27 miles.

View from Anderson Lane (damn power lines!)

Old Bethel Church

Someone’s driveway

Another driveway

The fog thickens

Little Debbie truck

Red barn

Trees and house

45

Another barn

Action shot