There wasn’t much to this day. I got up slowly and headed off again happy to be on a clearly defined, known route. I was aggravated now only with the annoyingly tumbly pebbles of the dirt road, but all else was okay. I was still day dreaming of food though, and not all entirely happy with having rejoined the walk.
Along the road I often thought of hanging out with Angie in Denver; what I could be doing with the summer, eating, feasting. At one point I met a guy who gave me a Hawaiian Punch which was nice, but I still trotted along not unhappy but not ecstatic either as I remembered being last summer.
I crossed around and over a mountain bend to a long flat stretch by the end of the day. There was a town, Boulder, up ahead that I wanted to hit the next night because I’d heard there was a restaurant there. I was really hungry, still not realizing what I was surviving on, and that it was only every other night that I had one meal. I pushed the miles grumpily to sunset where I figured I had 25 miles to go to Boulder the next day. This contented me and I bed down on the side of the road. I read that night and went to sleep.