Ben
Unsent
***
July 10
Dear Ben,
I told myself I wouldn’t write you again—as in, write you something and actually send it—but I’ve reached Tuolumne Meadows, and I’m staying here for a zero day, and keep thinking about the mailbox here, and how you had hoped to make it this far, and…I don’t know, I hope it’s okay if I tell you about some of the things I’ve seen. Because I think you really wanted to see them, too.
The High Sierra has been scary at times. But there are meadows, and trees, and wildflowers, and panoramic views everywhere. And the birds! They are everywhere. I really wish you were here taking pictures of it, Ben. I think about that every day. I wish I was like Ruby, that I could capture the beauty of all the plants in my notebook, to keep forever. I’m just passing it all by, just trying to keep my body together, to reach the next mile, the next landmark.
Except when I sit on the shore of a lake. There are so many lakes here, and I love them all. At least, until the mosquitoes start to eat me alive. Which they are doing these days with increasing regularity. But still, I love the lakes.
And there have been waterfalls! There are so many waterfalls in the Northwest, Ben. Maybe you’ll get there on your own sometime to see them.
There is water everywhere, really, in the Sierras. So much less stress about having to plan things around making it to the next water source in time. Although I can’t wait until I don’t have to carry around this bear canister anymore. It’s hard to remember the desert, sometimes.
There are also people everywhere, so many extra section hikers who are doing the John Muir Trail. I’ve heard a lot of different accents, different languages. I talk to people, sometimes, when I can. But mostly I just think about how much you would have loved talking to everyone.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I’m okay. I hope you are, too. More than you know.
My next big stop will be at Echo Lake, in about 150 miles. If you want me to not write to you anymore, just send me a short note there, okay? Tell me to fuck off, or whatever, and I will. I have a resupply box waiting, so I’ll check to see if I have any other mail when I’m there. I know it’s probably selfish, wanting to keep writing to you. Just tell me not to and I’ll stop, promise.
Give Delilah some scratches for me.
Lex
Sent from Tuolumne Meadows
Mile 941
***
July 15
Alexei,
Keep writing.
Please be safe.
Delilah misses you.
Ben
Sent from Nashville
Received at Echo Lake
Mile 1,094
Chapter Twenty-Six
July 23
Ben,
