8/6

Yesterday we walked 45 miles. Once you condition yourself to that sort of endeavor, all paths but one are a distraction. One path rules your attention; not for a destination or even for immediate scenery, but for the allure of moving, of going as far as the sun can reach. Time is a measurement, not an entity. Anyways, the day hammered both Furntiture and my brains, but he woke up sick as well. I hiked the 20 miles to Timberline Lodge without encountering him, but at the massive and lavish lodge itself I found him, and soon after his brother brought him back to Portland for a few days, which means my partner since Mexico is gone. I will go solo into the mystical horizon called Washington.