Breakfast

Just enjoying my birthday breakfast outside Cooper Shelter. I've discovered that adding cold water to a packet of oatmeal is as unappealing as it is easy to make. In the woods, however, convenience and easy clean up have become more important than taste.

It was a chilly night with clouds rolling through the windowless window frames this morning. The chipmunks were up early clattering their tiny claws across the stone floor looking for last night's crumbs. We slept well anyway, and slept in on accident. My alarm didn't go off, but we will still try to do 20 miles regardless of our late start.

As I'm typing this, Sixgun Wild (formerly Bambi) and I are singing Home by Edward Sharpe. It's sure to be a great day. Gotta go, it's time for my trumpet solo.