Panic Eating
We were sitting outside a petrol station, stuffing our faces, and pretending we’re invisible, when a guy walks out of the shop and informs us (playfully) we’re late and if we don’t get moving, we’re going to get snowed in for the season.
We laughed. Offered him some cake. Only to discover, we had eaten all the cake.
Bailey and I packed up, and got going. A few hours later we were sore, a little over it, and running low on both energy and humour.
Then everything changed.
The truck stop parcel
Here’s what had happened, unbeknownst to us.
Wayne, a wilderness guide / lumber man / and first class log-cabin builder was someone we had made an impression on, somehow. So he dropped a surprise parcel of treats at the top of our last hill climb with a note saying to contact him and his wife if we’d like a place to stay in town.
A stranger left snacks on a hill in Wyoming with a handwritten note for two Australians he’d briefly met. I don’t know what else to tell you.
As soon as we rolled into Dubois, we contacted them and what happened next was magical.
They hosted us. Took us to every local haunt worth knowing. Helped us get closer to Yellowstone by dropping us off and picking us up everyday so we didn’t have to carry heavy packs, and so I could start the new year with something that felt like momentum.
And then (because apparently they weren’t done) they invited us to celebrate Thanksgiving with them.
The trail always finds a way to give you what you need.
~ Every thru-hiker
Wombat approved of all of this unreservedly. He has excellent taste in hosts.
4am starts, wolf tracks and hollywood skies
At some point, the fun had to end.
Temperatures were dropping. Yellowstone wasn’t getting any closer. Bailey and I made the executive decision to get up at 4am and cover 50km (30mi) a day — rip the bandaid off, get it done, because I am (as I mentioned to Bailey at approximately 4:02am in the dark and the cold), “an excellent friend”.
She did not disagree. She was too tired to disagree.
Wombat came along for the suffering, tail up, completely unbothered, because he is a better person than either of us.
Though when Wayne and Kim swung by to offer him a halfway exit, a warm car, a soft seat, and freedom from the 4am regime, he took it with the energy of a man who has been waiting for this moment his entire life. No hesitation. Not even a backwards glance.
We waved him off with hot chocolates in our hands and pure envy in our hearts. #traitordog
Something I do love about hiking in the cold, genuinely: the sky.
Early winter does brutal things to the body, but the colours before sunrise are extraordinary and every so often something cuts through the fatigue completely. Like fresh wolf tracks in the snow, appearing out of nowhere, reminding me that I’m very small and the wilderness is very large and this is, improbably, my actual life.
Eventually though, the awe fades. And all I can do is count: steps, kilometres, the distance between where I am and where the car is waiting.
With 1km to go I asked Bailey for one word to describe how she was feeling.
Pain.
I didn’t argue. It was a really hard day and our lift was further down the road than expected.
Fortunately, they brought beers.
The last day of the year (Bailey refused to get out of bed)
Temperature: -13°C.
Final day on trail for the year and Bailey, citing conditions entirely consistent with the forecast, refused to get out of bed.
So Wombat and I left without her.
Eventually Bailey rejoined for the final stretch with celebratory drinks in her pack, because she is that kind of person and I am lucky to know her.
As a hiker who rarely drinks, choosing to have one on trail wasn’t my smartest call. It was absolutely fun. But also sketchy.
By the time Wayne and Kim came to retrieve us, we were in a state that can only be described as festive. They did not leave us on the side of the road though, which says a lot about their characters.
Instead, they handed us a beer and took us ice skating on a nearly frozen lake, which is, it turns out, an excellent way to sober up.
If you want to follow along properly — 4am starts, wolf tracks, and ice skating while mildly celebratory on a frozen Wyoming lake — join Entangled. It's my inner circle and it's where a genuine community lives. Or if you just want to shout me a warm-up-coffee or a self-pity-hot-chocolate to keep me moving: same link.
Lucy + Wombat 👩🌾🐶
