>>902598Forgot to mention, aforementioned kind stranger gifted me a pack of broadheads for the compound bow I was unwisely carrying.
I decided now was a good time to stake my tent, which was an ill-chosen bivy sack; not even large enough to fit my pack in and sleep comfortably. Of course, I staked this tent right on the fucking beach in the sand. Needless to say, when the storm rolled in, the stakes were torn up, and rain and stand were being blown through every crevice of the tent. Due to the circumstances, I was forced to make the decision to move my tent or never sleep.
So after a few moments of despairing over the reality of my predicament, I got out of my tent, grabbed my pack, and rolled the tent and stakes up in my arms, and walk about a mile down the road to a pavilion that the state had erected for picnic use. Out of the rain, but still in the blowing wind, I did my best to lay out my pack and dry the few clothes that I had brought with me. After rolling out my sleeping bag atop two picnic tables laid end to end, I slept fitfully.
cont.
>pic related: Presque Isles, next to a fukhuge body of water 