Drenched (aka - Tenting it on the Olympic Peninsula)

So, I've discovered the problem with tent camping on the Olympic Peninsula is that there is a very high likelihood of getting rained on, thus having to take refuge under a makeshift tarp shelter for hours on end.  And when one is stuck huddling under said shelter for an indeterminate length of time,  just watching the deluge around, there isn't much to do.  Thank heavens for box wine.  That was the only thing that helped us pass our time the first couple of days we were out there.  The incessant rain forced us to huddle under the tarp like pathetic refugees, and filled the air with so much moisture we couldn't even read our books or play cards; it was just too wet.  So, we sat and drank.  Good times. (Please note the sarcasm.  Even box wine gets old after a while.)  But, after two days, the rain relented and we were granted some sunshine.  Still, nothing really dried out.  (I don't think that part of the world ever does.). We stayed as damp and musty as ever.  But, at least, we were able to get out from under the tarp and expand our world.  We hiked and admired the old-growth trees; some so massive, one could only guess as to how old they were.  We lounged by the lake, and let Puppy swim to his heart's content.  By all accounts, it was a perfectly lazy Labor Day weekend.

Now, we've shed the forest and are chilling on the coast.  It's not the warm, sunny beaches of SoCal that we're accustom to (cloudy is the word of the day), but the scenery is breathtaking.  I think we're doing the Pacific Northwest well...