Instead of going to a restaurant for breakfast, we decided to take advantage of the stove in our room and cook. Our culinary skills combined like some transformer robot and giant breakfast burritos appeared. We bought a ton of food, expecting the others to stop by like we told them they should, but everyone else went out to eat so we were forced to gorge. Life is tough. We stuffed the leftovers in our packs and hitched out to the trail with a sweet 75-year-old lady who had never picked up hitchhikers before. She was drinking buttermilk from a quart carton and swerving all over the road due to lack of sleep, so we laughed nervously and I tensed in case I needed to grab the wheel during her wild swings to the shoulder. Arrived safe at the trailhead somehow. It was a hot day with no shade, but the mountains were beautiful. My father sent me my trekking poles in Lincoln so I’m trying to get used to them. Of course, the whole reason I wanted them was for my sore knee and shin splints, but they are better so I am just flailing away with these poles and don’t really need them now. My timing is bad. At least I still smell good.
- Starting Location: an Ice Age Trail tradition transfers
- Destination: cooking and a ‘wild woman’