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The Trek to The Boulderfield (Page 2) |
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Just after leaving the Peacock Pool area, weather conditions started to change. The sky was overcast when I started out, and remained so up to Peacock Pool, where the sky began to turn ominously darker. In the mountains, sudden changes in the weather are normal, and must be planned for. I rued the day I left his raingear at home... After a spate of fruitless ruing, I watched and listened for evidence of lightning. Fortunately there were no bright flashes or loud reports, so it appeared safe to stay on the trail on up to the Boulderfield.
My chief concern was getting caught in a heavy rainstorm without any rain gear. Even a plain old garbage sack, to put around his backpack and sleeping bag, would have helped. The bivvy sack would have done the job, but that idea didn't occur to me. Temperatures were just above freezing, so I kept on hiking, and worrying, as the sky grew darker and darker. Within an hour of leaving Peacock Pool, rain began to come down in torrents. Heavy rains dogged my way for the next several hours. The trek from there was incredibly discomfiting, alternating in heavy rain, snow, and ice pellets, until I finally reached the Boulderfield.
By that time, everything was thoroughly soaked. As long as I kept hiking, body heat produced from physical exertion would keep the cold at bay. At each rest stop freezing temperatures, carried by a ripping mountain wind, gripped me through and through. It was a good thing I had plenty of GORP to keep my core furnace stoked. When I reached the Boulderfield, everything, including my backpack and its contents, was crusted over with a thin layer of ice. I looked around for a campsite to set my bivvy sack down in, but the only ones left were located in low areas- just like the ones that were taken- where the falling rain had deposited anywhere from 3 to 6 inches of ice-cold rainwater. Not one well-drained camping spot could be had. Temperatures were now well below freezing, and the water on exposed rocks was turning to ice as quickly as it fell. I picked a campsite that appeared to have the least amount of water and sloshed down the bivvy sack, opened it up, and inserted the sopping wet sleeping bag. Fully dressed, I forced my body into the sleeping bag and zipped the bivvy sack all the way up. Even the flap over my face had to be zipped shut, to keep out the torrential rain and sub-freezing cold. I was now totally encased in a nylon cocoon, and not liking it one bit.... Next: Trek to The Boulderfield Page 3... Longs Peak Menu ... Bugsinthenews ... Books About Longs Peak ... Contact Jerry |
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