There’s something uncanny about Labor Day, at least here on the East Coast of North America. The day before Labor Day you can strip, don your bathing suit, head for a body of water, dive in and swim, re-emerge, remain scantily clad while going to get an ice cream cone still dripping from your plunge, and not see one goose pimple.
Pull a sweater over arms and long underwear over chilled gams, a plunge in temperature is not a problem; what is a problem post Labor Day is a sudden absence of LIGHT. Daylight. Come noon PLD you should be looking for your flashlight.
To hikers what this means is PLD you now have stark choices; get up at 5:00 AM to get a jump on the sun as it makes an arrival, forego breakfast altogether or eat nuts and berries from a pocket on the trail. That or sleep in and after dragging out of bed attach a headlamp to your dome to keep the oncoming shadows at bay.
(Excuse me while I pause to pull at my hair and growl a the dimming sky seen out my window at 5 past 1:00 PM. This typed in werewolf blood…)
Point is, to deal with miserly PLD daylight you can either cut down on your activities and pleasures- hiking say- or embrace your inner werewolf and celebrate the dark. I recommend the latter…
This said, a few days back when faced with a restless dog, legs itching to move and a darker shade of grey settling all around, I lace up my boots, dressed my dog in her orange reflective coat, reached for my newly purchased LED lantern and took to the trail.