The moon is almost full. It will be our third. My head lamp lights the page for the second night in a row. Be sure this means we are as weary as these summer days are long.

Our challenge for the second 1,300 miles has revealed itself today. The bodies are in danger of giving out. We have begun to methodically and meticulously care for, and attempt to soothe, every ache and every ailment. Regardless, by dinner time it was agreed that we couldn’t physically do more than twenty-five miles a day. We can, obviously, and have. Yesterday was about twenty-eight and today perhaps twenty-seven. Maintaining these numbers in an attempt to abide by our rigorous itinerary would grind us to a halt somewhere in north Oregon. Something surely would give out.

The problem lies in the fact that Dylan must make Canada by August 29th in order to a too few seven days to return to Wyoming, pick up his stuff, and move to Chicago, find a job, and return to school. He has been out a long time. As for me graduating from college is an indication of adulthood, taking the responsibility of returning to college seems to be so for him. On paper it works. The remaining mileage divided by the travel days left gives us an average of 24.8 miles per day. It is, however, foolish to assume that we won’t loose a day somewhere. In the end, a push like we did today, and yesterday, will probably be necessary. Albeit a much longer push. I doubt our bodies can take it. This is the gamble we have deferred for the final days. There is still a long long way to go.