47 Millimetres Creates a Waterbed 0.00

The Night Before the Day That Was

Unusually, today’s blog starts with some significant night time hijinks. I’d set up my tent in a stealth site next to a large fallen log. This log was wonderfully useful before retiring for the day, as it became a multi-purpose item, providing a seat, a cooking space and a piece of gym equipment for end of day stretching. 

This same log, so useful before sleeping, did a true Jekyll and Hyde routine once the sun had set. As I was drifting off to sleep I heard thunder in the distance and the occasional flash of lightning. Whilst my tent is slowly disintegrating, it had proven to still be watertight so I was happy to fall asleep secure in the knowledge I’d stay dry if the storm hit.

Well, the log next to my tent had other ideas. I woke as my dreams had started to take on some weird ideas of floating on the ocean on a raft. Upon waking, the first thing I noted was the intensity of the pouring rain accompanied by powerful thunder and lightning strikes that were lighting up the entire sky. 

The second thing I noted was the fact that I was on a waterbed. My air mattress was literally afloat inside my tent. As full consciousness occurred I realised why I was in this predicament. The once friendly fallen log was preventing the heavy rain from dispersing and had effectively created a moat in which I was now encamped.

This was not ideal. On the one hand I was super impressed by my now decade old, hundreds and hundreds of nights spent in the wild tent. The DCF bathtub was 100% watertight and I was still dry inside my floating tent. On the other hand, the water was dangerously close to being high enough outside the tent to breach my bathtub and soak me good and proper.

As I was at a stealth site it was not a simple matter of picking up my tent and moving it to a better spot. There wasn’t another spot. At all. Fortunately Chestnut was camped in the only other flat spot a few metres away. I stumbled out of my tent and went and said hello to Chestnut. Admittedly he was quite surprised to be woken up in the middle of the night and it took a few moments before his consciousness was able to grasp my indelicate situation. I politely enquired whilst standing in the pouring rain if I could perhaps come and bunk in with Chestnut for the rest of the evening. I was incredibly lucky that Chestnut had a two person tent. Had he not, I would have had no choice but to fully pack up in the thunderstorm and start walking down the trail hunting for another stealth spot in the pitch dark.

Chestnut was kind enough to allow me to join him for a sleepover. So I went back to my tent, grabbed my mattress, sleeping quilt and pillow and dived back into Chestnut’s tent. Other than being completely soaked I was pretty happy with the outcome of the situation I had created for myself by picking such a poor camping site. 

Morning Has Broken

At sunrise I roused myself. Even with the broken sleep I felt pretty good. I left Chestnut to his tent after thanking him for the save last night, and returned to the scene of the crime. My tent had become a small swimming pool, easily remedied by picking it up and tipping it out. I’d left my pack in the tent, fortunately the Nyloflume liner had kept the contents dry. All in all a pretty decent outcome.

After packing up and putting on my damp pack with an even damper tent stuffed in an outside pocket it was time to hit the trail. My lower left leg was pretty sore, I figured I’d probably strained a muscle the day prior or had a bit of tendonitis due to overuse. I’d have to monitor it through the day and see how it performed.

The weather was still pretty ordinary as we hiked on in the morning, with low cloud and high winds whistling through the trees as we climbed over some more hills.

As the morning waned and lunch approached, the weather turned once more. The howling wind of the past 12 hours dropped to a friendly zephyr and blue skies appeared as the last of the cloud dissipated.

Maine has been spectacularly beautiful thus far. It was a true joy to look around as I slowly descended toward the next road intersection with beautiful views in all directions.

The Land of Milk and Honey

The Farout app and its many contributors all seemed to agree, once you cross Route 17 the trail becomes much easier. The horrors (so much sarcasm) of southern Maine are ended and the trail begins to offer the more modern American amenities like travelators and flying foxes.

So it was with great joy that Chestnut and I reached this point in the journey. We wandered slightly off trail to enjoy the views from a popular roadside turnout. 

After enjoying a short break we headed toward our next shelter. 

Leg Letting me Down 

Unfortunately my leg had done the opposite of improving as the day rolled on. The final kilometre into camp took me over an hour. Essentially I was having great difficulty bending my ankle. For those reading that have walked before, you’ll most likely understand that an ankle that will not bend or flex causes some challenges when wanting to traverse. 

I hobbled into camp and set about drying out my tent and pack as I contemplated my options in regard to my injury. It was about 15km the next day to reach the next shelter. Just prior to the shelter was a road crossing to our next planned resupply in Rangeley. I figured I’d be able to make it at least to the road and evaluate from there.

I plonked myself into my hammock and raised my leg as much as possible. I dozed off for a nap in the afternoon sun. Upon waking, I set myself up in the shelter, packed away my now dry tent into my now dry pack, cooked up a delicious pad Thai ramen and then drifted off to sleep.

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any product or service you purchase using the links in the articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price as they would otherwise, and your purchase helps to support The Trek's ongoing goal to serve you quality backpacking advice and information. Thanks for your support!

To learn more, please visit the About This Site page.