Pacific Northwest Trail; mile 420.2

Friday, August 23, 2019; day 34

I rose so cozy and dry!

I turned to the rhythmic sound of weight-in-motion. I smiled gleefully as I watched two of the neighborhood cows partake in their morning stroll, in a single file line, right down the center of Forest Service Road 15.

One spotted me, spotting them, and they gave a little jump.

My leg is much better this morning. I am beginning to think it was certainly a reaction to some poison.

I thank the space for amazing rest. I Express my love and gratitude. I turn to leave. The nozzle on my bladder hose pops off, releasing a steady stream of water on the forest floor, and the rear of my shorts. I awkwardly move to catch it like a dog after its tail. I hold it upright to stop the flow as I reach down for the mouthpiece, I reattach and resecure. I wonder how much I lost. There is a creek in 10 miles. I cannot be bothered to fetch more. I have a liter in a bottle. This is not the first time this has happened.

I walk. I think.

Though I understand there are no certainties. Can there not be certainties of intention? Amongst humans, in my experience, it is not uncommon for someone to say something they do not fully mean. Completion is never a certainty. I believe intention can be strong and unwavering.

I take comfort in those in my life with intention that is both full and pure hearted, and as strong in fruition as their zest for life. Thank you.

These woods are beautiful. The sky is hazy.

I discover the source of that giant whimsical seed that soars through the air, a magical prelude to life.

It began to rain, ever so faint and gently.

Then larger drops with greater speed, hitting the ground hard enough to imbue a fragrance.

I move quickly to fetch water from a creek beyond a bridge marked “Private”.

Two deer cross paved 395 at the same time as me. They are just south of me. We match each others pace, all three of us pausing briefly in the street. I call out for them to move along. The roads are dangerous. I continue.

I found a flat space roadside, by the North Fork of Little Boulder Creek.

I set up my tent and crawled inside for the night.

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