Zero at Vermillion Valley Resort 

You know that feeling when you wake up on a weekend morning? Sunlight flickering in through the window, little particles of dust dancing in the air. You can stretch, wriggle your toes and really feel how calm and rested your body is. Replace the window with a tent mesh, and you have this blissful morning on the shores of Lake Edison. Sleeping until 08 felt like a massive rest, and we spread out like starfish with our books and Pro bars. All aches and pains seeped away as I walked barefooted along the rocks for a skinny dip in the glass-like waters.

For the first time, I took a moment to look at my body. Over the course of less than a week, it had already hardened. I’d spent five weeks bulking up in Norway, and confess I was relieved to see the slimmer shapes reappear. In our regular city lives, our bodies are for show – to visually appreciate and dressed to attract. Here, our bodies are solely functional, aesthetics are completely disregarded. Every little ache is a cause for concern, your only mode of transport needs to be so well cared for. I’d never loved my legs so much, such troopers!

 
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The tiny transport ferry took us and the morning’s hiker load across the lake into the land of calories and hot water. Walking up the 30 m from the beach to the resort felt like a pilgrimage.

I’d never done a hike long enough to justify a zero day before, but quickly learned that zero days are centred around one thing: food. And lots of it. Pie and ice cream for second breakfast. Burger for lunch.

Had an orgasmic long shower – and finally ditched the last remains of the sunscreen stick that earned me my trail name – lounged around, talked to other hikers, read and tanned at the beach.

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In the afternoon, our wonderful trail angel Liv Kari, along with her sister Inger pulled up outside our tent cabin. Liv Kari’s dog Simsim stuck his fluffy head out the car window, and we had a joyful reunion (not least with our resupply boxes). Like animals we dove right in on chips, Twizzlers, peach iced tea (!), and finished off with spareribs and a whole pie for dinner. And yes, I am very aware that all I’m doing is fetishizing food here. But after a week stuck in the wilderness with a diet restricted to the contents of a bear cannister, you would be too.

 
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Woke up in a BED (what a beautiful word) with awful menstrual cramps. Advil and leftover pie to the rescue. We spent hours organising resupplies for section 2 religiously.

We had stuffed our bear cannisters to max capacity on section 1, and section 2 would be two days longer. With a sinking feeling I realised that there was just no way I could fit in the food I’d so meticulously distributed in Liv Kari’s San Francisco living room.

Section 2 would be long, wild, hard, and we would be hungry.

But that was tomorrow’s worry! We spent our last night grilling marshmallows and drinking margaritas after a big birthday dinner for Inger. I’d eaten continuously throughout the day to compensate for the upcoming stretch and felt ready to pass out. Light from our bonfire flickered over Simsim’s golden fur. Above us shooting stars bounced across the darkening sky, “like Roman candles across the night”.