Wet Socks Don’t Burn

(Written Sunday, but I just got in range to post now)

Rather boring day. We’re at the end of the line on highway 101 and we’re bored. Tired of being wet. Tired of the mosquitos that come out when it stops raining. Most especially tired of trying to get a fire going with wet wood – but by jiminy, I got it going…

Found a wet sock in the ditch beside my campsite, which pretty much sums up the highlights of Okeover Arm Provincial Park. Thought it might be fun to see it go up in flames. No such luck. It just sat there and steamed till it turned into a sock shaped piece of black ash.

I think Okeover is Finnish for that part of the arm to which deodorant is applied.

We’re moving on tomorrow.