Walking in pouring rain is what I have been doing for the last three days. Now, this is interesting in many ways. I hiked to the top of Cheoah Bald at mile 145 – described as a beautiful view point but I was not able to make out much more than my hand in front of me – wait, is that a mountain I spy between the swirls of mist and rain?!
Your mind starts playing funny tricks on you but, probably more importantly, your body starts to complain and one of the things I was told at the start is to be tuned in to what your body is telling you. Not being dry for several days can be dangerous and getting blisters on my feet at this early stage would be disastrous – I decided to stop at the next shelter and wait out the rain – thank goodness for the opportunity to do this.
It makes me think of people who cannot take shelter from the elements – for my countrymen who have endured such horrors as “murambatsvina” operation “clear out the rubbish” when Mugabe sent his troops in with bulldozers and weapons to destroy people’s homes and belongings leaving them without even coking pots to place on their fires – where could they seek shelter like the warm, dry cabin I can set my things to dry?
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