The packs are lighter! A bit of creative navigation leads us to Willow Spring, home of many messy beeves. The water must be treated, so we use an inordinate amount of time and fuel boiling it. Then we’re up on the southernmost Sierra Ridge, sand swallowing our feet, galing winds blowing us all over the trail. If you could see us from afar, it would look like we are running for our lives while being assaulted by invisible Sumo wrestlers. We sleep with the wind’s song still in our ears.