I thought that three days of heavy rain washed all the smells off this trail but Aki manages to find lots of work for her nose. I walk, head down, parka hood up and listen to the simple tattoo of raindrops on my hi-tech rain gear. No one else shares the wet joy with us. At least it’s warm rain—falling through 50 degree F. air so I am safe wearing cotton. In a week or two, when the temperature drops to hypothermia range, I’ll be hiking in wool and synthetics.

At the edge of a mountain meadow the rain stops and the sun returns. A rainbow arcs over Mt. Juneau. I know it is nothing more than sunlight shinning through saturated air above the mountain and not a sign of better weather. In minutes we are back in the rain.