I woke up in the middle of the night sick again. This was the third day of being sick and it was getting worse with each episode. I couldn’t keep anything inside me anymore and the symptoms weren’t like any flu I’d experienced before. By 5:30 am, I knew there was no chance of falling back to sleep. I needed to get out of here and get to a doctor. I packed everything up and trudged up the steep ravine I’d fled down into the night before.

Back at my original campsite, I packed up the things I’d left behind. Another thru-hiker walked past. He told me of a possible bailout point 7 miles down the trail where I might be able to hitch into town. I slowly made my way to it.

At 5 miles, I stopped to take a break at an old forest road when I saw 2 4-wheelers coming toward me. I flagged them down and asked them if I could get into town from this road and how far it was. They offered to give me and Cassie a ride. I was sooo relieved!

They strapped my pack on the back of one 4-wheeler and Cassie and I climbed on the back of the other. A few miles later we got to their campsite where we transferred everything to his truck. He drove me into town and insisted on making sure I got everything I needed instead of just dropping me off. The only option for getting seen by a doctor was the emergency room (no doc-in-a-box clinics in the area) and it would take a while to be seen so he gave me his phone number and left with Cassie. I finally saw the doctor who diagnosed me with giardia and gave me a prescription. Neal picked me up and insisted on driving me to Walmart to get the prescription filled. He and his wife full-heartedly offered to put me up in his huge motor home. I appreciated his offer but declined for the privacy of a hotel room. He got me settled into the Wayside Inn just outside of Breckenridge, a nice hotel owned by friends Tom and Patti (also wonderful people). I thank my trail angel profusely and said goodbye, ready to crash and wait this thing out.

Neil, my rescuer!

Neil, my rescuer!