June 30
We see the sights of Lassen National Park. A steaming geyser, a boiling green lake, pits of sulfurous bubbling mud.

I have no peace of mind. I often consider blowing off school to finish the trail, which would also mean leaving my girlfriend Camella to move to Chicago alone. I can't make the decision.

| Pete's Journal
July 1
For some reason I really enjoy the walk into Old Station through rows of mature trees. We finally talk openly of stopping at the Oregon border, and again Pete greatly helps me to reduce my sense of failure. I promise to decide by Burney Falls, but really my mind is already made up. The burden is lifted.

We buy tons of bottled water to prepare for the dry stretch on the Hat Creek Rim. An attempt to walk by moonlight fails, our bodies can't take the stumbling caused by unseen objects. We stop and drift to sleep on the long dry grass, beneath the enormous moon.

| Pete's Journal
July 2
The Hat Creek Rim is indeed hot, dry, and dusty. The dust infiltrates all clothing, settles in against the skin and chaffs, especially the feet. But I am happy. The walk seems to have started all over for me. Pete points out Mt. Shasta in the distance, and I eagerly await a closer look. There is no pressure to do miles, so I once again begin to experience my surroundings, and find them foreign and amazing.
| Pete's Journal

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