“Only ten days left of this madness.” That was the very first thing that popped into my head when I sullenly opened my eyes this morning. Dyl told me today, “You know, I came to the conclusion that if it wasn’t for me you would never get up in the morning.” He’s wrong of coarse. I would just get up much much later. Every team needs a captain. I’m not it on this one.

We left Castle Crags behind this morning and quickly climbed to the Trinity Divide. Off one side water flows into the Sacramento River, off the other to the Trinity. We are still on the divide camped tonight. We will swing 180 degrees around the rim of a large basin and strike out south west toward the Trinity Alps. These saw toothed and snowy peaks now constitute our horizon in that direction. At Castella I’m sure we weren’t more than a fifty mile strait shot up I-5 from Oregon. It is telling of the trail that it winds these two hundred miles before crossing that border. If we were walking strait we would be in Canada right now.

The weight of seven days food is more than we’ve grown accustomed to in northern California. It made today long and tiring. My feet hurt bad enough to hobble me down to half my usual speed by afternoon. Perhaps we have too much chow. I haven’t been hungry since putting down that box of Frosted Flakes at Ammaratti’s. Well, the weight will whittle itself away. I’ve quit caring about details. Don’t care about the weight. Don’t look at the maps anymore. I guess I’m just winding down. Tenth day done, nine left now.