Sunday, June 7th-Day 46

Up at five and pretty cold. We'd camped close to this spring, and it turned out that none of us needed water. So, we packed up and left.

I'm gonna talk about what I've been putting my body through for a minute. We walk around twenty to twenty-five miles a day on average, carrying packs that sometimes weight as much as forty-five pounds. That's twenty five miles of constant stepping on uneven, rocky terrain. The big toe on my left foot is mostly numb. When I bend it back, I get strange twinges in the middle of my foot, on top. When I bend it down, I get sharp, terrible pain in my arch. I try to keep it straight. I've got blisters under calluses on the back of my right heel. I've been told to pop them (IT GETS REALLY GROSS NOW, FYI-M.), so I stabbed my heel with my knife and the only thing that happened was that my heel felt like it was being stabbed. I put molefoam on it, taped it up, and have avoided looking at it since out of fear. I've got pain in my left shin and in my right knee. And my hips.

My upper body feels fine, except that my left shoulder starts to hurt a lot after I've been hiking for a long stretch. I shift the pack weight to my hips, which hurts them, but not too badly. I think what I'm saying is that this whole hike is just one long, painful experience. My body is pretty beaten up, and it's not going to get easier. We're heading into the Sierras after our next stop, Kennedy Meadows. Lots of big climbing, at altitudes we haven't even come close to so far, with all my complaining about climbing. In spite of all of this, I'm having a good time, and I think I know why.

We're more than one quarter of the way done, as of today. We're through the Mojave Desert. We've taken what it gave us and come out stronger than we went in. We've come almost seven hundred miles, officially finished Southern California, and, after Kennedy Meadows, we will take on the Sierras.

My body felt like it was falling apart piece by piece today, but I still hiked twenty three miles uphill. I came out here to push my limits, and that's what I'm doing. Hiking all day, every day sucks, but I haven't had to stop yet, haven't found my wall, and that' why I like this thing. I'm gonna go until I can't anymore, or until I reach Canada. We all are, and we're one quarter of the way there. Less than two thousand miles to go. 'Night.