About an hour in it began raining lightly. We posted up under thick trees and wondered if we should keep climbing. When it began raining a little harder, then a little harder still, we decided to pull the plug and head downhill.
My glasses were fogging when it was still dry due to a steamy first day of August. Then they were totally hosed once it got even wetter. Slithering downhill looked like footage from Monet’s helmet cam. I achieved a level of soaked-muddiness where the first thing I did when I got home was go to the backyard and hose off my sopping shoes, socks and shorts while still in them. Minutes later trail-colored water was swirling around the bottom of the shower.