Killarney, Part V

After my pleasant visit to the Killarney village, I return to the campground. It’s still windy, rainy and cold but I’m not ready to be cooped up yet. I put on my rain slicker and go for a stroll to visit my favorite campsite. Upon arrival, I immediately feel pangs of regret that I'm not camping here. The view is simply stunning, it sits on a bluff high over the water with an unobstructed view of the lake and mountains beyond. One of the best views of any campsite in any campground I’ve ever visited. When staying here, I drain this view every night ‘til I can see no more. I think to myself that since no one’s camping here this week, maybe I’ll wander over each night at sunset and drain the view anyway.

Tonight, the view is much different from when it is clear - the mountains, mantled in thick mist, look delightfully mysterious and foreboding. And each powerful gust of wind sends a wake skittering across the surface of the lake – I can literally ‘see’ the wind!

By now, the unrelenting driving rain has me soaked through and through despite the slicker - I sure wouldn’t want to be backpacking and camping out in those mountains tonight! As the cold and wet penetrates to my bones, I change my mind about draining the view and simultaneously realize I haven’t brought along my headlamp to find my way back to camp anyway. I leave while I can still (barely) see the way.

Given the weather, I decide that tomorrow will be a lowland hike since everything will be wet and slippery even if the rain has stopped. The trail I’ve chosen will be perfect for a soggy morning, a meander thru misty, ethereal forests of hemlock, aspen and white birch. I fall asleep with visions of rainforests floating through my head.

Part VI soon...