We leave the worst hotel in the world and enter the touristy
town of Breckenridge. We take the free shuttle into town and go to the Fireside
Inn. It’s an adorable B&B and Hiker Hostel run by a sweet British couple
with a geriatric black poodle. The place is homey but spotlessly clean and
there’s an air of focused efficiency. I love these people.
I have a slew of errands to run and somehow I lose the whole
day to shopping and eating.
I eat so much weird food. Mostly fish; I am dying for dish,
which I normally don’t eat as a vegetarian. But the trail changes my
appetite.
I also buy tons of stuff for my resupply, like poptarts and
Doritos, almonds and Goldfish, pretzels stuffed with peanut butter, cheese and
tortillas. Granite buys nothing, even though he packed less food than I did. I
think I understand why he came back so skinny from 3 weeks on the John Muir
Trail last year.
But I don’t want his food choices to influence mine, so I pack
what I think I’ll want.
We watch the new Ghostbusters movie at the one movie house in
Breckenridge. It’s totally wonderful and I am sad to leave the theater when
it’s over.
We have an awkward conversation about our relationship and hint
at what happened 2 days ago. But mostly we don’t talk about it.
We’re 100 miles into our hike. This is the longest backpacking trip of my life already.
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