When a cowboy wearing a brimmed hat driving a truck with a blue heeler, pulls up next to you and says, “do you want a ride? I won’t kill you…”, what else do you do but accept?
I was walking at least 1-2 miles back to my motel after visiting Auto Zone just before they closed to buy HEET. I had already asked a woman at a nearby petrol station for a ride but was rejected so when Alex came along I was happy to oblige. He laughed when I told him I was staying at the Ranch Motel and told me the place is meant to be haunted. Great!
I’ve bolted the door after a mission to the local burger joint up the road where I was the only patron alongside two local lads. Where are all the hikers? It was here in my solitude that I decided to get the hell out of this town tomorrow and visited the Chevron station for a full resupply.
I had hoped to find HEET there but the young guy Chris who served me said to try Home Depot. When I found out how far it was and that his dad worked there I asked if he could check with his dad if they sold it and if he could grab me a bottle and drop it off. Unfortunately they didn’t stock it, otherwise I’m sure he would have delivered.
Having decided to forego my resupply box and try and have the post office bounce it ahead (along with your package Xy), I set about picking food to last me at least 7 days and 135 miles. Chris thought I was a crazy lady, piling up the counter with food and grabbing anything that was discounted or reduced. I was even so bold as to ask if he would drive me to the trail head tomorrow. He said if he replaces something in his car which enables him to steer by the time I need to go then he’ll do it. Good enough for me. I now have a mountain of ridiculous food to ponder over and reassess for the next section (which happens to be our longest stretch this far on the PCT).