It was a long hot day. I am now sitting with my back against a large cottonwood tree canopying our camp. Trees need water to grow. That, though it is a simple truth struck me hard as we made the last couple miles with these trees in sight. We made it in short time. As short as walking twenty three miles can be I suppose.
Trees like ours abound. The grass is green, water is plentiful, I am clean. My dirty dusty smelly cloths are washed and drying on a tall sage. When you have to carry two days of drinking water, there is no spare to wash with. Regardless, drinking water from a fresh source is the true cause for celebration.
We met “Bootman” as he is camped here with us at Barrell Springs. His vibrum soled boot prints have led the way for the past three days. His name is Kurt, looks to be in his mid thirties. He is walking to Canada as well. Tomorrow we, Bootman included, are going about nine miles in to Warner Springs. There we will receive our second resupply box, eat about half a pound of cheese, and generally take it easy for the rest of the day.
It is lonely. Yet, I am exited. Over the past couple of days the physical and mental challenge has been unlike anything I have ever experienced. About one hundred miles down, twenty five hundred to go.