Eye of the Storm

Foul-weather backcountry days have an allure all their own.

- By Kristin Smith

It’s 4 a.m. in Vesper Basin, deep in Washington’s Cascades, and I’m building a dam out of twigs.

The rain started two days ago; not with a roar but rather a slow drumming, wrapping the world in fog until even the near edge of the cirque vanished. Our tarp-tent made a good effort for the first 45 hours, but now the soil is saturated, and tiny rivers are snaking under our sleeping pads. Hence the twig dam.