Slept in till 8:30. Latest I've slept in weeks. Smoke was as thick as cream of mushroom soup.
A grapefruit sun hovered above the disappearing hills. (Can you tell I'm always thinking about food?). The air was still and carried the smell of burnt wood. Everything looked orange. In town, even the locals said it was the worst they'd ever seen.
Had a pancake breakfast worthy of kings on the porch of the Duck Brand Hotel. Later, we picked up dust masks for the ride tomorrow. Few people in town today, even though it was Friday. Got some vegetables at the store and went back to camp.
Birds had gathered in the tree above camp and pooped all over the tent (without fly) thus spraying the finely sifted shit on our beds. Cleaned all that off, and spent the rest of the morning reading.
Figured we should go for a swim, so the three of us stripped down and floated in the water. Less satisfying without a strong sun, but still good.
Cooked up a fine spaghetti with onions and peppers and ground pork. Went down with ease. An after dinner stroll found us at a horseshoe court. I won the first game and dad won the next. Finished my book before bed. (Gretel Erlich's the Solace of Open Spaces. I highly recommend if you want to get in the head of an introspective cowbow).
Likely my last rest day of the whole trip. From here on out it's the finale, and the home stretch. Feeling ready to tackle the mountains once more, and have big brother at my side (and more wingmen soon). Family feels comforting. I'm not the only freak.
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