We woke up to… drumroll… rain.
I was still pretty wrecked, so Steve left to go start plotting a portage route while I stayed in camp to hang the bear bag and filter water before heading out to meet him.
Long story short, even that amount of activity was about as much as I could handle and by the time I met him at a logging slash about a mile downriver that afternoon I was completely exhausted. Getting back to the tent was one of the hardest things I’ve ever physically had to do.
I spent the rest of the afternoon passed out cold while poor Steve played Minecraft on his phone.
Dinner was a sad affair- Steve cooked (which should really drive home how wiped out I am, because there’s a lot of things I’ll do before willingly eating his camp food) and then goaded me through about half a portion of rice before I was convinced I might barf again.
Everything about this makes me miserable. I can’t eat; I can barely move around; my partner is stuck literally carrying my load around while I lie here like a useless lump. I still can’t say I regret coming out here (the bar for “better than being at work” is JUST. THAT. LOW) but the misery level has really hit a new record.
I’m desperately hoping I wake up tomorrow feeling close to normal. And that maybe it won’t be raining.