557.5 miles hiked from Mexico
It doesn’t rain. It doesn’t rain! Oh, cowboy camping, how I’ve missed you. There is one single mosquito bumping against the cold tip of my nose and the moon is growing moonier as it waxes but no matter. I sleep wonderfully!
Today we walk on trail all day. And not only that, but there’s a stream running alongside the trail. And not only that, but we seem to have left the desert behind and entered some sort of magical high-altitude forest wonderland of quaking aspens and damp green meadows full of little yellow flowers. And there is water everywhere– burbling and tea-colored, alongside the trail and on the trail itself, we are walking in it, sloshing around. It’s icy but we don’t care. The snow was just here! And now a riot of wondrous flowers!
We take the wrong junction and walk a mile on the wrong trail, bushwhack back to the trail postholing in the deep woods. Then there is a labyrinthine mess of blowdowns. We climb way up to ten thousand feet. In the afternoon I’m hit with random altitude nausea, but I sit in the shade and it passes. Things grow dry again, the stream where we planned to camp isn’t running so we fill our bottles with clear water from a puddle. Before bed the boys make plans to start a foodtruck that sells only strange varieties of corn dogs.
Tomorrow: Ghost Ranch, home of Georgia O’Keefe and a buffet we can’t conceptualize!
Photos on instagram.