Somehow, I am able to ignore pain until I stop moving. In a hotel room in Kanab, I had to admit that I was far too messed up to return to the trail right away. My left toe was a deep red of infection, pus oozing from it at every step. My left leg was continually humming with the heat of an angry IT band, every step a new agony. And the blisters on my left foot truly covered 60% of the bottom of the foot, with a deeply painful fold still prevalent from my stupid hammer toe. This, too, oozed white and green. I slightly tearfully agreed with my dad that taking a few days off was a good idea. He drove us back to Kingman, where he and I managed to have some very good time together while my feet were progressing back to the safe zone. On 9/30/16, he dropped me off north of Tusayan, and I can't thank him enough for being my impromptu trail angel.