Day Eighty Five: 1619.8 – 1636.6km

Mentally, and emotionally, this has been my hardest week on trail.

I haven’t wanted to whine and moan – no one enjoys that – but it’s been a push. And we haven’t even been pushing too hard. I’m just thoroughly not enjoying it right now.

Maybe because HBG is scattered along the trail instead of a tight group?

Maybe I’m just over it, a third of the way in?

Maybe it’s just one of those weeks, and the next one will be better?

I’m yet to find out. So far, even since Toulumne Meadows and Yosemite, I’ve had this cloud over my head. And I still can’t put my finger on what it is or why it’s there. Which only frustrates me all the more.

Witnessing the sun rise was beautiful.

Looking back over the pass I’d climbed was beautiful.

Watching the landscape change around me was beautiful.

Even walking in snow again was kinda fun, but I was still in a funk.

It was all beautiful.

The boys were all smiles. I did my best to shake off the cloud (again, as I have every day this week), but something weighed on me.

I think I need a break.

I met Peggy at the top just near here.

She was waiting for Captain Kirk – who we’d met a few days ago, and have been leapfrogging ever since. She hiked up a couple miles from the road to the top of the pass, to meet him here. They’ll have two days together down in town and he’ll get back on trail. Super beautiful.

We chatted for a while, and she was the mumma I needed in that moment. She said if I’m still waiting down the bottom by the time she gets back with Captain Kirk, they can drive us all down into Bridgeport if we want.

Bridgeport wasn’t the plan. Bridgeport is 50km away. And even with a way there, we’d still have to get back to trail. That hitch would be a bit of a gamble, being so far away. Kennedy Meadows North was the plan. It’s only 14km away, we could do our quick resupply, have a meal, and be back on trail tonight.

My honeypots were in Bridgeport.

I didn’t know why, I just felt the pull.

I got to the road, and the boys were there, ready to hitch into KM. There was a quick explanation, and some discussion about them joining me, but their honeypots were in KM.

So they left.

I waited.

Peggy and Captain Kirk came down, and drove me all the way in – feeding me chips and goodies along the drive. They even tried to find me a room in town, but being a Saturday, AND having a fishing derby going on, meant every single room was booked out. The lady at the desk was also helpful, and gave us directions to the only other place that I might be able to stay at: the caravan park down the road.

This wasn’t part of the plan, either.

Of all dates to come into town, I came the ONE day this sleepy little village on the lake was booked out.

Peggy wouldn’t let me hitch out, and drove me there herself, even waiting in the car to make sure I was able to stay.

I walked into the renovated van that serves as their office, and was told that a tent site had been cancelled an hour ago – it was mine now.

Peggy gave me her number, and left for her weekend with her man. What a beautiful couple. What beautiful people I meet out here.

I wandered through the park to find my spot, and I found my honeypot there too.

Yes, there are recliners scattered around.

This is the quirkiest caravan park I’ve ever seen.

There are also motivational paintings in the bathroom. And shampoo and conditioner. And Q-tips. AND FREE RAZORS 🙌🏽

Goodbyeeeee hairy legs!

Now, just to sort out dinner.

Because apparently this park doesn’t have any food, and the closest restaurant is 5km back towards town, but closed already.

I wasn’t worried in the slightest.

I knew I was where I was meant to be, and that I would be provided for.

I always am.

I called my parents and talked to them for over an hour. My heart needed it. My stomach needed food. I had a can of Coke and a Snickers bar, so I knew I wouldn’t starve… A forced fast might feel like it, though.

But that’s when a kid ran past me with a yabbie/lobster/mud crab looking crustacean.

I jumped off the phone, and probably looked like a crazy person – he certainly thought I was – as I asked him where he found it, if there are more, was he going to eat it. Kyle thought I was kidding. I assured him I wasn’t.

He then proceeded to teach me how to catch ‘crawdads’ using only a stick and some quick reflexes.

I knew dinner would be provided for.

Some nearby ladies were both impressed and slightly disgusted that I was actually cooking these up and eating them tonight. Questions were asked, and I was able to confirm I’m not a homeless vagabond – I’m walking the Pacific Crest Trail (admittedly, they are very similar concepts).

These girls looked after me.

Big time.

They invited me to join them for more dinner if I wanted, and I got to feast on TWO burgers with fresh salad, avocado, wine, and even s’mores.


This morning, I couldn’t have imagined that I would have had (kind of) lobster for entree, followed by an array of goodness for dinner. Or that my legs would be shaved. Or that I’d spend an hour on a couch by a lake watching a hazy, smokey sunset.

Honeypots, man.

You’ve got to listen to yours.

They lead to all sorts of magic.

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