Today was a grumpy day for all of us. I'm reevaluating how long we should walk this trail. When Nate is down, he is so down that every hiker stops to make sure he's not dying. This is entirely mental, but nothing I can fix.. so it's real and real bad. We stopped to swim and clean up, mmmmm, and that rejuvenated the boys, but the crank was back as soon as we picked up again. I need to decide if his negativity is ruining the trip for him, or if it is passing, like many of the moods and ordinary grumpiness we all feel from time to time. It's equally as mental a battle for me, and tugging at my gut strings.
I cut my hair shorter, though I doubt it's an improvement. I am a grease monkey. Nate likes telling new folks that " ..mom lost her phone, but I found it.." and "..mom cut her hair on the trail.."
The path turned to a sandy forest after the lakes, which is strange. Most of our day was spent walking through tree cemeteries. Hot. Dead. Torn up by the roots, frozen and petrified white, branches looking like piles of bones. It was big and dwarfing, but so depressing.
Stopping at a creek for water, I thought I should feed the beasts a quick second lunch. No quick lunches left so I cooked noodles. Max spilled his noodle soup, scalding his leg. The cold creek and antibiotic cream helped, but it shook me a tad. He's ok. He heals like an immortal. But it is fair to say that Max is extra careful when eating now. The fun below made it feel better; bridge carving:
We pressed to get close to Reds Meadow, which has a store and restaurant, but fell 4 miles short. Not at all the boys' fault (although I may like to come back and do this thing light and quick and solo), I was just as tired in the bones. We found our worst site yet, and I am hoping we get out of the woods and along the creek early tomorrow. Plan is to get breakfast at Reds.