Closed, and Wet

Short Version:
We find fat people and a drowned forest. Day-old bagels and chiropractic care in saturated Fernie. Hunting season is open.

Long Version:
Cranbrook was closed.

We did find a laundromat which was open, and there were quite a lot of people there, including a bunch of huntin' folks, who were drying their saturated camo gear after several days of downpour. Apart from that, though, nothing open and no-one about.

Until we found the Wal-Mart, which taught us where all the fat and horrible people of the town had gathered.

We hightailed it out of there, found a remote lake full of the still-standing trunks of dead trees, and set up camp in the torrential rain. Once we were set, and well and truly soaked, the rain stopped. Some critter decided to spend the night using our tarp as a trampoline, which made lots of awesome noise, and it was raining again when we left for Fernie in the morning.

Fernie was drenched. Bike store folks, camping gear salespeople, Canadian Tire employees from the Marlborough Sounds, and the chiropractor who manipulated my neck vertebra back into place were all lamenting the current waterlogged state of the usually-awesome trails, but we managed to beg free copies of maps to the least-affected trails, and then we bought an enormous bag of day-old bagels and disappeared out into the woods to begin my enforced neckrest period in a place with no people and plenty of hiking trails for Nene to run on.

There were also LOTS of hunters. All the ones we spoke to were really cool, but Nene still decided to wear bright colors while out running and to stay away from densely-wooded trails.