Foot Destruction

Start: Charlton Lake (1931)
Camp: Windigo Creek (1909)
I destroyed my right foot today. I can’t figure out if the better question is how, or why – how because I’ve been blister-free for hundreds of miles, and why because I knew it was happening and kept walking anyway.
It started early, but that’s not saying much since most of the day happened before 2:00 p.m.
I broke camp and put on the Jungle Juice and headed out before breakfast. I ran short on water for a while, things are getting consistently drier, or at least consistently less drinkable. I felt hot spots on my toes in the first few miles, but only on the right. I stopped three times to tape three different spots over fifteen miles but by the time I reached Shelter Cove at Odell Lake I had to lance two blisters. One, covering my entire pinky toe, was threatening to pop my toenail off, which is how I lost it on the Tahoe Rim Trail two years ago. I headed this off, I hope, but washing and then thoroughly slicing through the blister to the nascent red skin below. Then I ate an ice cream and a pot pie while I waited for the UPS man. He came, but my rush delivery box didn’t. I resupplied from the hiker box again, left a note to forward the box to Burney Falls, and ate a pizza and another ‘It’s-It’ ice cream sandwich.
I only made it a couple of miles out of town before deciding to knock off relatively early – 9:00 p.m. The mosquitoes in Oregon are so weird: this morning and for the last two days I was being swarmed, but tonight, camped next to a lush green creek, I’ve not seen a single one.
There was a book in the hiker box, something about Me Speak Pretty One Day, and the opening pages struck an amazing chord with me – so I’ve got a full size paperback book with me, along with some camp soap and topped off stores of hand sanitizer and Neutrogena sunscreen, a state I consider traveling heavy.