I filled up four liters of water before I left my campsite – It would be about 15 miles of roadwalking before I had another chance to fill up on water, and in the hot, dry weather I was burning through about a liter every 4 miles.

About 20 minutes into my walk, a man in a DNR truck pulled up next to me. He told me he had met some other hikers, and I learned that his job was to pick up debris left behind by logging companies. (I’m not sure why this task isn’t the responsibility of those companies).

The trail guide called this section “an unremarkable downhill gravel roadwalk”, and it was. I must have been walking on autopilot; I have almost no memory of this section.

Except for the cows.

The gravel road wound down out of the forest and through some farmland. It was getting hot, and I needed a break, so I sat down under the tiniest spot of shade by the side of the road and had lunch – Peanut Butter On Tortilla With Cheez-Its. A farmer rode by on a four-wheeler and asked if I was okay or if I needed some help (I was okay, and didn’t need any help).

I trudged along in the hot sun down to the low point of the day – the bridge over the Kettle River, at 1480 feet (417.2P). I noticed that Morning Star and Cookie Monster’s footprints were fresh in the dust again. They must have left Orient that morning. That meant I was pretty close behind them. I hoped I would get to camp with them that night.

The afternoon slog hit me really fast. I took a wrong turn pretty soon after the river and lost about a mile, but I got to look at some horses. About 1400 feet into the climb, I started feeling too drowsy to continue, so I pulled out my ThermaRest and took another afternoon nap on the side of the road. I actually slept really soundly this time, and I was woken up by a car flying around the bend in the dirt road. It was probably around 5, and I decided it would be a good idea to continue and find a spot to camp. I packed up again and continued up the road.

I found water at a creek flowing under the road, but there was a bunch of barbed wire in the woods that I had to scramble over to actually get to it. It was a total pain, but I filled up about a liter and a half. The guidebook mentioned a “seasonal pond that may offer water and a good place to trail camp” about five and a half miles ahead.

Another 1500 feet of climbing (and all of my water) later, I made it to the seasonal pond, but I was devastated to find that it was just a mud patch. There was no water to be found. A bit of panic set in – It was late evening, and I had no water and no place to camp. I saw some promising blue lines on the map ahead. There was nothing I could do but keep walking, so I did.

It was almost dark when I rounded the first concave bend in the hillside and heard a trickle under the road. The sound of relief. I set down all of my things and climbed down to take water from a small culvert pipe under the road. It was actually pretty tough to get down to the pipe, because it was covered in bushes and there wasn’t good footing. I set up my tent on a dirt patch by the side of the road and went to sleep.

I woke up in the middle of that night because I thought I heard footsteps. I was sure I heard someone running down the road. I yelled, “Hello?” into the night, to no response. Only the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.