The Night Before

This was a long day, hours in LAX in the midst of hundreds of thousands of people talking too loudly, gesticulating too wildly. And me fretting and fretting about what I might have forgotten and imagining me humped over under great weight.

Of course we had to leave our gallons of water behind because bottles of water are easy to come by as is the small canister of gas for our tiny Jetboil stove. Water was difficult, but the gas was impossible.

Terry is my rock. We will make it work except for Tuesday ‘s forecast of rain that could bring snow upon us as we climb over 9,000 feet. Right now this is what the journey looks like. But two miles in, it will be just walking and walking Joaquín. Consumed by the rhythm of an unknown trail. Nothing more.