I felt a little guilty rousing these giants from their sand baths. After all, they became a part of me overnight after I gave up on finding clean water and drank a broth of their poop from a drying-up spring gone foul. It was a bad water day from the start. Despite some other hikers offering to leave me behind half a gallon of jug water, I walked out of my way to a spring and filled up 3L to last me to the next spring (which later turned out to be dry). When I got to the jug it reeked of mold and despite attempts to flavor it with Mio, it still was moldy flavored, so I dumped it. Regret accepting? Regret dumping?
So aside from the bison broth ramen and the bison broth chai tea, I made three liters of delicious spring water last thirty miles. The only other soul I saw that whole way drove past me (waving meekly) without so much as eye contact while his “service dog” barked ferociously at me through his passenger window. I personally believe he’s the same asshole who also left a bag of tees and a few dozen golf balls at the canyon lip. That’s the only way I can make peace is that there was only ONE asshole yesterday. Like last year when I delivered a basketball, which I affectionately named “Wilson”, to the wonderful Ranger Bridgehouse at North Rim, this year I delivered several pounds of golf balls.