August 28th, 2015: Day 7
The dinner from last night rests well. The feel of the dirt
The grade of the incline has become steeper. There are blisters starting to stammer their way into the soles of my feet. I stop and take off my boots.
The air is cool in the shade, and I have to remember how precious it is. Taking this for granted would be the worse way to let bad things happen.
The day passes and passes, the ascent has been gradual and patchy. Like the quilt of the forests surrounding us and thinking about the strip of flagging and painting running down it. Is it more like a tear or a zipper?
We reach camp early, and I spend the day, resting as much as I can.
I wake up to food. It's always amazing when cooked food happens, at least for as long as it happens. Our sup is of delicious rice and vegetables. Our bread is loaf of awesome conversation.