For some reason I really enjoy the walk into Old Station through rows of mature trees. We finally talk openly of stopping at the Oregon border, and again Pete greatly helps me to reduce my sense of failure. I promise to decide by Burney Falls, but really my mind is already made up. The burden is lifted.

We buy tons of bottled water to prepare for the dry stretch on the Hat Creek Rim. An attempt to walk by moonlight fails, our bodies can’t take the stumbling caused by unseen objects. We stop and drift to sleep on the long dry grass, beneath the enormous moon.