It's strange what a difference a day can make in the weather, even in always-sunny, always-balmy Southern California.  Friday we were sweltering along on our trail, rather enjoying the 50 river crossings we had to make. But the next day was a complete turnabout: an entire soggy afternoon slogging through a late-season rainstorm that found us slipping and sliding down a mountain appropriately named Hurricane Deck en route to a canyon camp.  It was no fun setting up camp in the rain, with numb fingers fumbling about for zippers and tent stakes and little buttons on stoves and bear canisters.  But as the clouds parted on our final day in the wilderness, we realized it wasn't all that bad by a longshot.  We had savored the wilderness as few do, covering nearly 50 miles of trails that perhaps only a few dozen hikers are daring and intrepid enough to explore each year. Waterfalls, riotous wildflowers, Indian rock art, eagles on the wing, and good companionship were our rewards. 

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