Test-Test-Breaker-Breaker-One-Two

I squeezed myself into my hiking dress and smoothed down the sides. Pink and striped and lovely. It didn’t quite fit the way I wanted, but it was too late to lose that extra five pounds. A three day test run was just what we needed to mess with my new gear.  The boys dressed in their doggie hiking packs, looking all proud of themselves.  

Would it rain?

We stopped three times in the first half-mile. Rearrange this piece of gear, then that. Put on the rain gear. Take off the rain gear. Re-tie my shoe. Watch out for poison oak.

Frustrating, irritating, totally normal.

The trail was a gentle 4 1/2 mile path 1200 feet down to the river. I tugged at my dress as we walked. A hot spot sprang up on my hip under the seam of my dress.

Would it rain?

The trail ended suddenly at the water. No glorious camp sites, no sandy beach, no soft water, no swimming hole. Damn.

We crawled around the rocks for a while. I removed the leggings under my dress to try to fix my hot spot.

No luck.

I shrugged and went full commando.

Would it rain?

We backtracked and scouted a few side trails. One, a sketchy campsite full of trash, looked very lived-in. The other down to a small, dry field, still in view of the trail. I decided that was suitable enough and headed happily downhill and slipped. I landed, a giant clump in the middle of a blackberry bush, my dress up around my waist, my brand new hiking pole bent into a capital “L” under my naked left butt cheek.  

We set up camp. I pulled stickers out of my leg. My husband pulled a tick off his chest. We ate dinner – mashed potatoes with jalapeños and powdered butter. Hot chocolate with rum.

Would it rain?

I slept in spurts.  

…And it rained, and rained, and rained.