It was nature’s last chance to lash out at me with a 93-degree temperature during this adventure. With only an 11.5 mile trip, it had little effect on me except to drink more. Rumor has it that the temperature will fall markedly during my final 8 days. Daydreaming about my ensuing book on the Mission Walk and captivated by one of my American Pilgrim’s (Grant’s) suggestions of using a historical figure (rather than simply my “Hugo” buddy), I dwelled on, we’ll call him Alfonso, his utter disbelief of the miles of concrete we were walking on. When Alfonso last saw this area there were dirt paths connecting pueblos and missions. But Alfonso’s eyes lit up as we passed Pio Pico’s hacienda–he was familiar with the haciendas of his day. He also asked me if the black thing in front of the Pio Pico Marker was an offering. I simply said, “Maybe,” and changed the subject. Incidentally, Pico’s history pervades that of Southern California, but no less important is Pico’s medical history of his acromegaly and almost miraculous cure in old age caused by a pituitary apoplexy–it’s amazing and worth a google!