369.3 – 372
in the morning, i fill my tiny pot with frozen peaches & banana & greek yogurt & eat it all sprawled over the clean white sheets. it’s agonizingly delicious but a few minutes later i’m still hungry so i eat my leftover pizza dipped in marinara sauce & also the slice of carrot cake that the swiss couple inexplicably didn’t want last night. i’ve never been hungry like this before. WOW.
we wander around the tiny town doing little errands. everyone here is inexplicably nice. if it weren’t so lovely it would be kind of creepy. people cruise by & roll down their car windows to wish us luck & the clerks in the shops offer words of encouragement. we find our friends clustered on the porch of the coffee shop. pebbles eats tortilla chips & young gun gives fly trap a hair wrap. the afternoon slips between our fingertips & we go back to the pizza joint & fill up on pasta & the meatiest salad of all time & then it’s time to hitch back to the trail.
a buick pulls over & we pile in. a minute in we realize something’s not quite right. the guy in the passenger seat is slurry & hard to understand. they say some pretty gnarly stuff but our packs are in the locked trunk & we do our best to be agreeable & friendly. my heart sinks & pepa & i hold hands & cast each other sideways glances. i try to catch a glimpse of the driver’s face in the rearview mirror but all i notice is his make america great again baseball cap. fuck. i guess this is the dark side of small town america??
we’ve agreed to only hike a couple of miles in & rob & bailey build a cozy campfire. we can see city lights from where we are & i pass around the focaccia that i packed out & i feel safe here in the woods.