Today was a tough one. I woke up to the familiar sound of rain tapping the tent fly. It had stormed hard all through the night and rolled on through the morning. Several times throughout the night I woke up to wind blowing my tent and left and right, feeling worried that it may cave in on me. 

A small window of calmness allowed us to pack up our tents and make oatmeal with fresh blueberries picked from the night before. After last nights ordeal of the stolen life jacket, however, the morning held a somber mood. As we made coffee the rain returned and pelted us with water. This would be a theme throughout the day - being pelted by rain. As we paddled the rain continued almost nonstop. It was tough to keep spirits high. By the end of the day I was soaked to the core and cold. We found a small stream of rain water on a sandy beach and collected it for drinking and cooking.

Once camp was found we pitched a tarp behind small line of willows to get out of the wind and rain. Dry clothes never felt so good. 

With just 130 miles to the ocean it seems as though mother nature is testing us. For the large majority of the trip we have had stellar weather with very little precipitation. In the last 12 days, however, we have yet to see the bare sun. Clouds, wind and rain have been constant, almost as though the Yukon knows we are getting close and want to make sure we pay the full price of admission. I get it. But some sun would be nice. 

Pilot Station, AK tomorrow. Both Jack and I are looking forward to enjoying the luxuries of “everyday life” once again. A big burger, basket of fries and cold beer is on the mind. 130 more miles. 130.