Mile 318. Carcass.

I wake up this morning to the stench of carcass.   My carcass.

Evidence of the previous 36-hour puke storm is everywhere in my shrinking hotel room.   A thick air of sour sulfur pervades every corner.  A pathway of soiled towels connect the bathroom to my bed.   And stains of dried vomit splatter the walls.

I’ve got to get out of here.

While my stomach still is woozey, I am finally able to get fluids down.   And I can eat a bowl of cheap hotel-buffet cereal.   Let’s go.

Paul the shuttle driver offers solutions - this is why I like him.   He drops me off at Big Bald’s 5500 feet elevation for a relatively cruisy 6.5 mile stroll down.  

I breathe in the freshness of my upgraded surroundings.   The bright blue sky contrasts against the green grass.  The slight breeze tickles my skin.  And I am overwhelmed by an endless sea of billowy white wild flowers - they are everywhere.   This is what heaven looks like.     I can think of no better way to convalesce.

As each mile progressed, the cacophony of stomach gurgles began to quiet; and memories of this morning’s scene began to dissipate.  

I’m exactly where I should be.  I’m going to be alright.