Half past one, an unfamiliar sound awakes me. In a half dream state I feel as though the sound is passing through me. With repetition, the dimension of this sound measures to the sky.
First this sound resonates at one click per second; then two, then ten. The vertical dimension of the sound expands to surround me. The volume increases. I am fully awake.
The once starry night has clouded over. Lightning flashes in the distance. Even at 7,000 feet above sea level I feel the blanket of a warm June night.
With a conscious breathe of acknowledgement, the beauty of the moment settles within me.
Curling deeper in my sleeping bag I wait for morning.
Wait. WAIT! How can I see the sky?!
My other senses awaken.
Wet to the touch, my senses reorient me.
The race has begun.
Like reaching for a gun in my nightstand, I reach for my headlamp.
Exposed to the elements, my next reaction moves like a broken jar of molasses. Without being able to see all of my belongings strewn across the test site, I reach for my shoes. But then I redirect, there's no time for shoes.
Instinctually my actions shift to protection from the rain.
Barefoot, I throw my sleeping bag at the trunk of a tree.
My stuff sack of clothing I was using for a pillow goes under my yellow sleeping pad.
Then I scramble to set up the tent.
Fortunately the tent site had soft ground, so the stakes went in easy.
By the time the tent was fully raised, the rain had stopped. But the damage was done.
With no where else to call home, I take out my rain gear, my waterproof socks, and slip off to bed.
PCT Mile 672.8