We are up at 420 and I grab a mint from the front desk on the way to our Uber. I’m able to write 29 paragraphs on the first flight and edit them while we wait to park at our gate. There are over ten planes in line to take off. We have an uneventful flight to Missoula, where we just flew out a week ago. Jessi is there to pick us up and Jake meets us at the garage with cold snacks.

We combined boxes, and minus three mailed and six broken down, we were able to put them all in the car (after I called our insurance back as well). We stop at REI for a hooded shirt each… so much for the neck gaiters that aren’t as easy or breezy, and sun gloves for Caleb as even his thin cold weather gloves are too much in the desert heat. We find a BLM campsite and take the last spot available, thanks to my disabled veteran.