The last few days have been a series of ups and downs.
I made twenty miles twice. I slept on the sands by the Juan De Fuca straight. There were driftwood logs to block the wind and warm sand to pillow me under my tarp and sleep sack.
Border Patrolman Jeff stopped me as I was walking one night. "Watch out for big cats" and "You should have a gun" he said. "Anything I can help you with?". He was good company.
The land is steep and goes from sea to high forested hills immediately. You can't cut cross country here. I tried once but there are no deer paths or browse lines here. The forests are either old growth or are an impenetrable secondary tangle. Sometimes they are both. I tried taking a quarter mile detour. I had to turn back. I couldn't get my pack through.
When my stomach is full and I have had a pinch of coffee I feel unstoppable. When my stomach is empty and my feet sore I feel unbelievably homesick. This was part of the point, of course, but I didn't expect it to hit so soon. If this keeps up, I have to admit to myself, I may not make it. I may make 100 or 500 or 1000 more miles, but I don't think I am going to make it all the way without breaking the rules.
We'll see.
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