Ok. Imagine you are ordering a sub at Quizno’s. You get your meat and cheese and veggies picked out, and then the purveyor of your sandwich puts it on the conveyor belt and you watch it creep, inch by inch, through the broiling oven. You walk to the far end and watch your delicious sandwich as the cheese melts and bubbles, and the bread gets all toasty, and it all moves at a painfully slow pace.
Walking today was kind of like that. Kait and I cooked and sizzled 17 miles to a campground outside of Bloomfield, with the sun bearing down from above and the blacktop charbroiling us from below. I have never sweated so much in my life. I must be acclimating to the heat, though. My body is learning how to manage and mitigate the cooking process so I don’t burst into flames.
At least we can take comfort in the fact that there are still working pay phones. In Amish country.