I woke up at West Huntsville Camp feeling surprisingly decent for Day 3 on the Lone Star Trail. My body wasn’t too sore, and I actually slept well, even though I took the risk of sleeping with my tent’s rainfly off, hoping to catch the slightest breeze in the thick Texas humidity. I figured I’d toss and turn all night, but apparently, when you’re that wiped out, not even swampy air can stop you from crashing hard.

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Star from the beginning: Lone Star Trail Day 1: Starting Strong on a Dream Two Years in the Making

I was up around 6:30 a.m. and tried to get moving quickly. I’d draped my T-shirt and shorts over the tent the night before, hoping they’d dry a little, but nope—still damp and disgusting. The humidity out here this time of the year is relentless. I couldn’t bring myself to put those soggy shorts back on, so I threw on my Baleaf hiking pants instead. I was a little afraid of that potentially cause extra heat, but it kept my legs scratch-free, and they were dry, so it was worth it!

Breakfast didn’t go as planned. I had enough water to fire up my camp stove, so I made oatmeal and mixed in some chocolate protein powder… way too much protein powder. It turned into a gritty, chalky mess, but I ate it anyway. Calories are calories.

Before I left, I took a moment to soak in how special this little site was—just one tent spot, a mailbox stocked with hiker goodies, and that rare sense of feeling both alone and completely safe. It’s easily one of my favorite stops and one I’ll recommend every time.

I hit the trail around 7:10 a.m. a little quicker than the day before, which felt like a small win for my morning. The first few miles (around 28–32) were peaceful and shaded, the kind of morning hiking that makes everything feel doable. When I reached the Elkins Lake Dam crossing, I was a bit confused by the message they were trying to give off. At first, there was a sweet sign that read “water for hikers :)” (though I never found said water), followed by a trash can for hikers to use—super appreciated! However, just past that were two more serious signs that made it clear the lake was for residents only, with one even threatening prosecution for unauthorized use. It was a weird contrast.

Still, the dam itself was beautiful, and the crossing was a moment I’d looked forward to—easy, and just as cool as it looked in all the trail videos I’d watched beforehand. The water that was flowing over the dam was just a little stream so I passed without even getting my feet wet. I sat along the edge, filtered some water, filled my dirty water bag, and enjoyed the view. If it weren’t so close to my starting point, I would have really enjoyed a longer stay there.

After the dam, the trail passed through a really pretty section full of palmettos, dragonflies, mushrooms, birds, and a small stream that ran beside the trail for a while. I can imagine when it’s not so dry, this section of the trail gets pretty muddy. I stopped for a snack and a stretch somewhere along the way, sweaty but content, surrounded by the sounds of the birds. These little moments remind me why I love being out here.

I changed back into my damp, sweaty shorts, and then came the dreaded 2.7-mile Huntsville road walk. I was already exhausted before I hit it, and the blister on my left foot was getting hotter with each step. Road walking is so much harder on the body than trail miles, and I knew I’d be walking straight into the sun with no shade. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a little fear in me before starting this section. My hope that passing cars would provide a gust of cool wind was quickly squashed. Each passing car almost suffocated me with a cloud of hot air.

The first part of the road walk, along the highway, wasn’t actually that bad. But it continued after the highway, and that stretch of the trail chewed me up and spit me back out. I was struggling, my body was overheating, and I had to mentally get myself through by repeating encouraging mantras over and over.

When I finally reached the Phelps section, I felt a small victory. I was back in the woods, and the trail looked inviting again. I plopped down for lunch: a jalapeño tuna packet that I instantly regretted opening. It was way too spicy for the tiny amount of water I had left—only 8oz—and it just made everything worse. I ate half a cookie to balance it out, let my feet rest, checked on my blisters, and forced myself back on my feet.

The Phelps section before the road walk was beautiful, and somewhere around miles 37–40 I hit the “summit” of the Lone Star Trail at 445 feet. I’d read about it before but forgot it was coming up, so it made me smile when I stumbled on it. I took a minute to write in the logbook, though it was a struggle because my hands were so sweaty they kept sticking to the paper. I almost decided to just snap a photo and keep on pushing because I was just too tired to take my pack off and try to get it back on again, but I’m glad I forced myself to stop and add my notes to the logbook.

Shortly after, I hit another road walk section. This one hit even harder than the last. I wasn’t mentally prepared for how many road sections this trail actually has. My body started to shut down somewhere between miles 43–45. I was overheating. My legs and ankles were swelling. And to top it off, I developed a full-blown heat rash—on my legs, my chest, and the worst of all… between my butt cheeks. I was already at my breaking point, and this was the push that almost sent me over the edge. It felt like fire with every step. With the physical pain came mental stamina.

I seriously started considering whether or not I was going to be able to make it. I thought about flagging down a car or knocking on a stranger’s door just to ask for water. Physically, I was barely able to keep moving because I was so exhausted. When I hit a point I thought I couldn’t go on, I stopped, sat on the side of the road, and just let my body rest for about 30 minutes. When I felt like I could give it another go, I made it maybe 10 minutes, then had to stop again. I repeated this cycle multiple times. Knowing I had less than a mile to go and at least 4 hours of sunlight, I kept telling myself, even at that pace, I’d make it to camp before dark.

*I did not take any photos for this last section of the trail because I was just so burnt out. My mind was on surviving and making it to camp, but here are some cool photos from the day.

And then, trail magic. I saw a woman outside painting her mailbox and worked up the courage to ask if she could spare some water. Without hesitation, she grabbed me two water bottles, let me rest in the shade, and even offered me food, fuel, and to take my trash. She was a previous Lone Star Trail hiker herself, with family currently on the Appalachian Trail, and talking to her completely lifted my spirits. I told her I was currently on day 3 of my Lone Star Trail hike, and she said to be proud of myself even if I got off the trail tonight, because I truly covered some distance, and in this heat, that was not an easy task.

With her kindness still carrying me, I hobbled the final half-mile to Four Notch Campground, joined for a bit by a friendly local dog named Puka (a neighbor assured me she always follows hikers and heads home afterward). I found a spot to set up camp and finally took the weight off my feet. There was no water here—despite what I’d expected—but there was a porta-potty that smelled… unspeakably terrible. Hikers, be warned.

I stripped down, wiped off, tried to air-dry my rashy skin, and ate just enough to get by—some Nerds gummies and half a granola bar. With only about 4oz of water left, I wasn’t going to be able to cook anything. As soon as that kind lady gave me some water, I mentally told myself not to down it, to ration it… that didn’t happen.

I wasn’t sure if I could keep going the next day. I reached out to the Lone Star Trail Facebook group for shuttle options and messaged my boyfriend just in case I needed to tap out. Knowing I had a way out if I needed it helped me relax. I stretched, lay down early, and let my body rest. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring—but at least I knew I’d done everything I could on Day 3 of my Lone Star Trail hike.

MISSED DAY TWO? : Lone Star Trail Day 2: Sweat, Snakes, and a Starry Sky

If you prefer to watch vs. read – Here’s my Lone Star Trail Day 3 Youtube Recap