280 miles from Ashland to Bend really didn't seem like much after hiking North 1,700 miles. Unfortunately- I hiked this particular section in the wrong shoes. I TRIED shoe-shopping in Ashland. Truly, the guy knew what he was talkin about and I could tell that he cared about how my feet fared on the journey ahead. Well, it's just that...sometimes... you wanna feel cute. Sometimes, you'd rather skip the shoe that 3 of your male hiker friends are also wearing (that were only available in black and lime-green) until and opportunity for a more "adorable" "accessory" became available. I decided to continue in my broken-down, raggedy-ass shoes, (light blue and red) until the next big city. I knew a mistake was made very soon after leaving Ashland. The shoes had very little cushion left in the footbed. My feet were already experiencing a Hell they could not previously fathom. From the moment I woke in the morning, the most heinous of pains shot from the sole of my foot upward. I learned the art of distraction, I began to master it through the hours. Luckily enough, it was an excellent wildflower year and my mind was clouded with dreams of floral designs while my feet ached ONWARD. From Arnica, to Asters, to Buttercup, to Lupine, to Yarrow, the flowers kept me occupied and interested in traversing toward the next big city. Shoe stores, Thai food, the chance of running into an ex, thrift shops, and a gorgeous farmers market awaited me in Bend. The fresh kicks, the new shoes, they carried me the rest of the way to Canada.
