DAY 32 - Craters of the Moon - 632 miles from home

I am writing this on the morning of Day 33 - having yesterday walked a mile upwards, toward the moon. Okay... we only gained 1000 feet elevation, and the moon is the National Monument and Preserve, Craters of the Moon. But all the same. I'm feeling dusty and gritty (that lava rock sure does break down into some impressive black powder), and pretty darn good.

The walk up along the foothills of the Salmon River Mountains was just delicious. The day started out cloudy and cool - even during my leg of the hike (I'm usually hitting the road at 9:30 and the Idaho sun is already fierce by then). I couldn't stop smiling. This was my kind of road. Open vistas, ringed by undulating tawny brown hills that always remind me of the flank of some gentle giant beast. I'm a weirdo. And maybe it's just that I miss my own small, gentle beast - the tawny flanked boxer-pit-mutt Opal.

Today felt like a rest day, truth be told. Arriving at the Craters of the Moon Visitor Center, something inside me further breathed open, unclenched. I met Caleb and Tadzio from Washington, D.C. in the parking lot. Caleb started clapping as I walked by: "I saw you walking up that hill! Good job! You did it!" When I told him that I have about 2200 miles left to go, he laughed. We talked about his former job in D.C.: "I worked in politics starting back when you could talk about issues across the aisle - and left when you couldn't anymore." He seemed very cheerful. And how could he not be? The day was by then bright, but not oppressively hot - and the Visitor's Center was full of parents and kiddos and retirees and hikers and all the varied and joyous beings that come to a National Park at the start of vacation season.

For once, I stopped taking pictures - and just took in the scene. The NASA memorabilia and signage, dating back to 1969 when Apollo 14 astronauts did field training in volcanic geology there - prepping for future moon trips. The young woman standing under an awning, promoting cave tours and talking about white-nose syndrome - deadly to the bats there. Apparently, the fungus that causes the disease clings to clothes and gear pretty much forever. "Have you worn what you're wearing now in a cave before?" she was asking. The little kids who had just received their Junior Ranger packets from her seemed unconvinced. It never washes off? "No, not really."

As I was sucking up the free wifi (and truth be told, juicing up my Jackery portable generator), a half-dozen young people in Youth Conservation Corps tee-shirts and paint spattered work pants, all breezed into the Visitor Center, carrying windex and rags and buckets and sponges. Hipsters with calico dyed hair and nose rings, clean-cut towheads, rangy and limber-looking hiking types... a small fleet of sunburned, smiling faces. Many surfaces were cleaned. I said something goofy like, "Oh man I just love the National Park Service! You guys are awesome!" - and received an indulgent smile - and just as soon as they'd whisked into the place, they were gone.

And then - I just rested. Set up tent and camp on the dusty lunar surface. We made mac and cheese and drank beer. Toasted Ed on his last evening with us. Played Bananagrams.

In short, this trail family of pilgrims behaved pretty much like every other family at every National Park in the country.

Friendly Idaho Transportation Workers. "We're waiting on some hot mix," they said. The day was still cool - but there would soon be some hot tar.

Caleb and Tadzio, originally from D.C.

Solar panels and residence housing for the rangers and conservation corps workers at Craters of the Moon National Monument and Preserve.

The tawny flanks of the Salmon River Mountains.

Lunar landing.

Sunset view from my tent.