Last night we camped with a southbounder named Keegan and his burro, Burly. Keegan was nice and friendly and generous with his mashed potatoes; Burly was so cute! His calls were so expressive, and eyes so big and pretty. Apparently he likes being around people; Keegan told us a story about Burly feeling mischevious and "running away," Keegan ran after him, but got tired and stopped. When Burly looked back and saw that Keegan wasn't chasing him anymore, he turned around and ran right back. As I hiked out this morning, I was following cute mini-donkey tracks (and cute mini-donkey turds), as well as more disturbingly, bear tracks.
I headed out half a minute before Sweet 16, and Microburst took her time to make and drink coffee and chat with Gnar (who wasn't even awake when I left) before hitting the trail. I got to lunch half a minute after 16, and Micro one minute later. It was pretty much perfect. What was not perfect was that in the cool morning, I only drank one liter over 13 miles. I left lunch, 10.4 miles to the next water source, with a little under three liters. Even with rationing, I sucked my dromedary dry about a mile before the spring. It was no big deal, obviously, but I hate getting dehydrated.
We passed an inocuous little monument this afternoon, marking the official (though now inaccurate) halfway point on the PCT. All I could think to write in the register was, "Yay! -Thump Thump." It's cool though, I am now closer to Canada, my destination, than Mexico, my departure point. We hope to cover the distance it has taken us a month and a third to cover in less than two.