Woke up on Friday feeling pretty sad, hard to put my finger on why, but pretty bummed overall. A part of me is pretty conflicted about this trip, I have a great life back home, a good routine, female companionship. Something feels like with just under a month, this trip is not long enough to be a "true adventure", I know I just have to shake it off and start walking those miles. Plan is to get about 200 miles in, we'll see how it goes. To top it off Im dragging my dog along for the ride and I can tell as she is laying on this 1960s shag carpet, where surely someones been murdered before, shes wondering, why are we here? Why do you put socks and boots on a dog? What are we about to get into?
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