Slowly, slowly, me and Goldie.
A single female on a Saturday night, wearing a formal dress and looking content: I was a curiosity. They wanted to know my story.
I found myself laughing through most of our time in the Haunted Mines, impressed by the quality I was seeing and using humor as the natural defense to being startled.
“Maybe government regulations aren’t such a terrible thing,” I pondered as the breeze ruffled the Christmas lights at my feet.
“OHMYGOD YOU’RE GOING TO DIE! YOU’RE GOING TO BE BRUTALLY MURDERED AND I’M GOING TO BE SO SAD!”
Nomad pro tip #2: national parks aren’t everything