... has to be the most depressing thing I know. How can one enjoy divinity without another? Oysters alone taste like mushy, rotten, salty tears. I'm looking forward to it, baby, that day I get to spoil you with oysters all night long.
The ocean smells so delicious early morning, before the sunscreen comes out. It almost commands you to sit quietly alone and contemplate your sorrows. Waves rolling in, waves rolling out. How did I make it this far? From the mountain tops of Montana... I feel like I've waited my whole life to sit for a minute and gaze at the sea.
Why am I moving so fast when I don't want this to end? I don't want to go home. I don't know where my home will be. I feel so protected out here... So protected and completely free.
I miss you...
I don't want to write too much here, because part of the magic is being completely surprised by what is in store. The Wild Bird Cache blew my mind. People told me that my faith in humanity would be restored by this hike, and I can fully confirm that they were correct. Strangers, complete strangers, have gone out of their way to support us hikers, often times without even making an appearance. Support is too insignificant a word, but it will have to do. Thank you Randy, Cathy and Bandit, not just for your generosity, but also for teaching us how to be outstanding humans.