Day 5

Trail Miles 9.8

The night was terrible.  It was cold.  Aidan’s entire right leg hurt so much.  He woke me up because he didn’t know where I’d put the Advil.  He couldn’t sleep.  My left hip hurt so much, I wasn’t sleeping either.  We downed a few a piece, and tried to sleep again.

I dreamed I was in the movie Heidi.  Hanging out with Shirley Temple.  Hanging out with her surly Grandfather.  I wished he wasn’t so pissed off.  I told him to try saying, “Thanks”, or “I love you” but he just glowered and carved another stool.

What happens to the body that it hurts so much only when one is lying at rest?  On a nice cushy surface?

It was morning.  I slowly pulled the floss out of my toe and covered it with a blister pad.

We had to deal with this next section of snow.  I knew this was coming.  Surely this was the last time we needed snowshoes?

We hit a few more patches of snow, then ended up at Mule Ears Creek and drank as much water as we could.  We Cameled-Up.  We wanted to avoid carrying any more water than necessary.  Water is Heavy.

We’ve had Zero Equipment Failures.  I’m terrified to believe that all my stuff actually works, but that seems to be the case at least right now.  But I refuse to get comfortable.

Fireworks of flowers, exploding everywhere.  Trilling birds with crazy flight patterns, coloring up the sky, and mosquitoes on snow.

And then we were down, down, down into soft pine forests with comfortable trails of pine needles and calm light.

Down to Jackson Meadows Reservoir where we could smell BBQ and campfire and Happy Memories Being Created.

Down past empty roads where there once were cars.  I remember cars.  Cars!

I read once that if every PCT hiker kicked one rock out of the trail each day, it would save tens of thousands of dollars per year on trail maintenance.

So, we each kicked three.

Trail Karma Gain.

We ate dinner with an enormous canyon view, and irritated by a mosquito on my hand, I blew on him to make him go away.

He blew right into my hot chocolate fireball whiskey.

So I drank him.

1 Comment

Bianca Breland · June 10, 2016 at 9:13 am

One skeeter DOWN! Eight million billion more to go. Happy Trails!

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