What a 28-Year-Old Trail Worker Eats on $36K in Jackson, Wyoming

Welcome to The Receipt, a series documenting how Bon Appétit readers eat and what they spend doing it. Each food diary follows one anonymous reader’s week of expenses related to groceries, restaurant meals, coffee runs, and every bite in between. In this time of rising food costs, The Receipt reveals how folks—from different cities, with different incomes, on different schedules—are figuring out their food budgets.

In today’s Receipt, we follow a 28-year-old trail worker making $36,000 a year at a National Forest in Jackson, Wyoming. Keep reading for her receipts.

The finances

What are your pronouns? She/her

What is your occupation? Trail worker. On paper I’m a forestry technician, but that can mean a lot of different things. I’ve worked on a wide variety of trails systems and I currently work on a backcountry wilderness crew. We backpack for about six days at a time and the main tools we use are crosscut saws and Pulaskis.

How old are you? 28

What city and state do you live in? Jackson, Wyoming

What is your annual salary, if you have one? $40,000 on paper, but I get put into non-pay status for six months every winter once it starts snowing. In 2023, my combined income from seasonal work and a part-time job at a wine bar in the winter was $36,000.

How much is one paycheck, after taxes? Between $1,000 to $1,400. I receive a housing and backcountry food subsidy. The latter varies depending on how many days we are backpacking each pay period.

How often are you paid? (e.g., weekly) Biweekly

How much money do you have in savings? $2,000

How much are your approximate fixed monthly expenses beyond food? (e.g., rent, subscriptions, bills) $400

The expenses

• Restaurants total: $14.63

• Groceries total: $147.91

• Most expensive meal: Lunch at Picnic, $14.63

• Least expensive purchase: Slicing cucumber, $0.89

• Restaurant trips: 1

• Grocery trips: 3

• Total: $162.54

The diet

Do you follow a certain diet or have dietary restrictions? I don’t have any dietary restrictions, but my dad has been vegetarian since he was 11, and my mom was vegetarian for about 20 years, so growing up, I ate mostly vegetarian meals, with roast chicken or pan-fried salmon making welcomed appearances. I was a strict vegan for about five years, but when I got into trail work, I struggled to find food that made me feel full without being highly processed (although I know many strong and nourished vegan trail workers). A few years ago I shifted toward a plant-based omnivorous diet. Since I backpack for work, it’s difficult to completely avoid ultra-processed foods, but I prefer to eat as little of it as possible.

What are the grocery staples you always buy, if any? I always have a loaf of 460 Bread multigrain sourdough, baked over Teton Pass in Driggs, Idaho. I drink coffee every day and rotate between medium and dark roasts. I also always have half-and-half, Kerrygold butter, a pint of ice cream, a large selection of spices, and a pantry of dry beans, rice, and other grains such as kasha and steel-cut oats. When I get home from backpacking, I supplement my pantry with fresh fruits and veggies, smoked salmon, and Greek yogurt.

I also go to Costco and Winco in Idaho Falls (ID) and the NOLS Gulch in Lander at the beginning of each trails season to stock up on bulk backpacking food. For this season, I spent about $400 on food, and I’ll go through everything by the time the season ends in November.

How often in a week do you dine out versus cook at home? I cook most meals at home, and I usually make large batches to keep in the fridge for lunches and dinners during my days off. It’s nice to have premade food, but this strategy is partially rooted in kitchen logistics. I live in employee housing with 11 other people so our two stoves are almost always in use in the evening.

How often in a week did you dine out while growing up? We rarely dined out. My parents grew up in major cities, but by the time I was born they were living in a farmhouse about 10 miles outside of a small town in Idaho. When I was eight, we moved into the town with its population of 930. We went grocery shopping and did all our errands in a larger college town of about 25,000 people a 30-minute drive away. So, besides the occasional pizza and root beer, dining out was reserved for birthdays and other special occasions.

How often in a week did your parents or guardians cook at home? My mom did the majority of the cooking in our house, and she is a wonderful and talented cook. She worked her way through grad school in the kitchen of a fine dining restaurant and taught my siblings and me technical kitchen skills from a young age. My dad contributes a variety of staples as well, including kimchi and pickles made with produce he grows. My parents have always had a vegetable garden and they pickle, can, and dry all the excess produce each summer.

Their love of food brought many cuisines through our house, so despite living in a very rural area, we were able to enjoy dishes that were not found on the menus of local restaurants. At home, kitchen experimentation was encouraged, but my mom always seemed to be nearby with advice at critical moments before things got inedible. Once we were old enough, my siblings and I were expected to contribute to dinner during the week, which we always ate together.

The diary

Monday

7:08 a.m. It’s backpacking day two of five for this workweek. I’m walking from my tent to the cluster of rocks we’ve deemed our kitchen and feeling like the hill I’m climbing got steeper overnight. I grab my bear-proof food bags, set up my stove to boil water, then unpack every food item until I find what I’m looking for: Dave’s Killer everything bagels, a Tupperware of Kerrygold butter, and plastic bags of Medaglia D’Oro instant espresso and Maxwell House vanilla caramel latte mix. I put one large spoonful of espresso and three spoonfuls of latte mix into my thermos, then turn off my stove just before the water gets too hot. With coffee in hand, I spread butter on each bagel half then fry each one until I smell it starting to char. I eat my bagel while organizing today’s food, making sure the butter gets packed into the center of the bear bag, where it will stay cooler through the day.

10:17 a.m. We sit down in the grass for our morning break and I pull out my gallon Ziploc that I pack each day’s rations into. I find my blueberry Belvita bars just as my coworker takes out her brown sugar cinnamon Belvita bars. I offer a trade. She accepts.

We agree that the blueberry bars taste like Eggos—what we wish we were eating. We also agree that it’s too early in the work week to start thinking about all the food we don’t have. I eat two bars while I drink my remaining half thermos of coffee, then it’s back to work. We continue our morning project of installing trail marker posts in an especially meadowy section where the wildflower blooms bend over the trail hiding the already narrow path.

12:37 p.m. I find my coworkers in the shade of a group of trees and join them for lunch. I have Wasa multigrain crackers, Kerrygold Dubliner cheese, Gusto fennel pollen salami, and one mini cucumber for lunch. I cut thin slices of cheese, thinner slices of salami, and variable slices of cucumber. I break the crackers into pieces and begin constructing my bite-size sandwiches.

I finish eating just as lunch is over, wishing I had a few more minutes to digest before beginning the afternoon’s project of trail reconstruction. I filter cold fresh water from a small creek, then walk down the trail to the first of many sections we will re-dig that were partially washed away in spring runoff.

3:10 p.m. It’s afternoon break, but I don’t feel hungry. My last couple hours have been dusty and hot, so I first drink half a liter of water with a Nuun electrolyte tablet in it. Then I eat a handful of garlic herb cashews I got for a backpacking trip with my boyfriend a few weeks go. They’re a little stale at this point, but they’re salty and garlicky. And delicious. Maybe I am hungry. After the cashews, I eat an apple with a squeeze pouch of Jason’s honey almond butter. I pass my apple core to my coworker, who eats it in one bite. Break is over and we pull ourselves up to start digging again.

5 p.m. I grab my oatmeal, cranberry, and Kate’s Real Food almond bar from where it’s stashed in the hip pocket of my backpack. I eat it while I hike.

6:42 p.m. I’m cooking dinner a little later than I wanted because it started raining just as we arrived back to camp. I want to eat something warm and comforting, so I get out my bag of Idahoan mashed potatoes and Stovetop turkey stuffing, plus Whole Foods brand bacon bits. I pour the potato and stuffing mix into my pot and cover it with water. I’m tired and have just made a mistake. The instructions say to pour the mashed potatoes into boiling water. Despite boiling the mixture and adding more water, it comes out dense.

It’s not a perfect meal, but dense potatoes are still delicious, and they don’t diminish my feeling of gratitude that the rain has stopped and I get to eat dinner while watching a lightning storm on the next ridge over instead of counting the seconds between bolts and thunder as we often do.

7:38 p.m. I eat two Natural Nectar dark chocolate biscuits as I filter water for tomorrow.

Monday total: $0

Tuesday

7:13 a.m. I’m a few minutes behind on my morning routine, but my bagel has the perfect amount of char and I eat it while admiring the purple hillsides of fireweed across from us. My coffee is too hot to drink right now, but I don’t have time anyway.

10 a.m. It’s been another morning of reconstruction, and I sit down on the section of trail I just finished digging. I adjust until I’m in the patchy shade of the wildflowers that bend down from the hill above me. My thermos and two blueberry Belvitas emerge, and I take my first sip of under-caffeinated and oversweetened coffee. I don’t quite finish my coffee before break is over.

12:07 p.m. I arrange my Wasa crackers, Dubliner, salami, and cucumber. Today I’ve remembered my to-go pack of Sir Kensington’s yellow mustard and I split it with my coworker, who opts for an English muffin and skips the cucumber, but otherwise eats the same lunch as mine. Before I rewrap my cheese in its parchment paper, I mentally divide the remaining block by remaining days. I can have one more slice today before cutting into tomorrow’s rations. I rejoice and reopen my knife.

3:47 p.m. I catch a glimpse of the creek where we’ll take break. I rearrange my water reservoir hose and bite down on the mouthpiece despite knowing I’ve been out of water for the last 45 minutes. As we arrive, I heave off my backpack and filter three liters. I mix a strawberry Liquid IV into one bottle and drink almost the whole thing.

I force myself to eat an apple, attempting to make it special by accompanying it with my sole chocolate sunflower butter pouch. I feel tired and defeated by the endless work that we will never have time to do. My trail crew receives enough funding to hire six people to maintain over 800 miles of trails in our district. I remind myself that doing all the work is an impossible task. We are in relationship with the land, which is ever changing. Our work will never be done because a trail is not a static entity. We let our trails be altered by weather, animals, and humans, and then we are able to revisit them to make them sustainable and keep them accessible. As I talk this through with my coworker, I’m still tired, but my feeling of individual defeat shifts into the possibility of collective care.

6:04 p.m. It’s raining again, but we worked our way forward to a new camp today, and this one has excellent tree cover in the kitchen. I’m hunkered under a subalpine fir with especially dense branches above me, and while I prepare for dinner I only feel a slight mist. Before I get my dinner ingredients out, I eat both of today’s cookies. I do not savor them. Tonight I’m making my most filling meal: my version of backpacking salad niçoise.

As I boil the base tortellini, I chop up a pack of single-serving Kalamata olives, slice cherry tomatoes in half, and open a can of Tonnino tuna with jalapeños, keeping the oil. I also grab two packs of Parmesan cheese left over from take-out pizza a couple weeks ago. Okay, it’s quite far from salad niçoise, but it’s delicious and nourishing. The mix is salty, fresh, and high in the protein that my body is craving. I make this meal with slight variations every week, and I look forward to it every day.

Tuesday total: $0

Wednesday

7:04 a.m. My coffee is strong and my bagel is hot and buttery. I eat under a different tree in one of the few patches of dirt that stayed dry through last night’s rain. As usual, the daily snacks go into the Ziploc and the rest of my food goes back in the bear bags.

10 a.m. I drink my remaining coffee and eat my blueberry Belvitas, which are now starting to taste more like motel breakfast muffins than Eggos, and then the Kate’s bar that I forgot about yesterday. Today it’s dark chocolate, cherry, and almond.

12:30 p.m. Time for Wasa crackers, slightly sweaty cheese, salami, cucumber, and mustard. I don’t want to eat it, but I’m too hungry not to. I don’t feel full and I keep slicing, taking a generous amount of cheese and salami from tomorrow’s rations, knowing that we’ll be heading out of the woods by midafternoon. I finish lunch with my peanut butter dark chocolate Kate’s bar.

3:15 p.m. I enjoy the freshness of my last apple with my last pouch of Justin’s honey almond butter.

5:50 p.m. I’m ravenous, and my coworkers seem to be too. What starts as a predinner snack turns into the frenzy we call All in Night. It’s when, on the last night of the workweek, we eat all of our extra food, play all the card games, and give the night whatever remaining energy we have.

I watch my coworker take a couple bites of a dry plain bagel before I remember my dehydrated hummus that I can give her. I mix it with plenty of water, and as it soaks in, I grab the treat I brought for the crew this week. I open the can of Divina dolmas to collective amazement. One of my favorite things to do is create a snack from my leftover food to share, but this week I didn’t have many options. I pour the excess dolmas oil into the hummus and another coworker offers a trade of additional garlic-infused oil for a scoop of hummus. A bag of Kettle potato chips emerges from a food bag along with veggie chips from another. We eat all of it.

7:13 p.m. I still feel hungry after our snack, so I’m glad I packed a generous dinner of beans and rice. The beans and rice have a spice mix I made that includes cumin, coriander, chili flakes, and a pinch of epazote. I also add a chunk of chicken bouillon cube. Once it’s rehydrated, I mix in some cheese, no longer caring if I have any for tomorrow, along with my remaining cherry tomatoes and bacon bits. I eat while we play Froggy Farkle. Trying to respect the spirit of All in Night, I paint two fingernails with all four colors of nail polish I’ve been carrying while I eat my last two cookies. I don’t have the energy to paint all 10.

Wednesday total: $0

Thursday

6:17 a.m. I’m up early and decide to have a slow breakfast before I pack up my tent and gear. I make coffee, emptying the bags of espresso and latte mix into my thermos, and read a few pages of a book while I drink it.

It’s uncharacteristically foggy this morning, and the light on the hills casts chartreuse around me. I enjoy the quiet stillness, knowing I have a long day ahead of me. As my coworkers sleepily make their way to the kitchen, I fry my bagel, giving my remaining butter to my coworker who inspired my bagel breakfasts last season. She learned the joy of a morning bagel many seasons ago from our supervisor, who still brings it as his breakfast when he joins us on the trail. Bagels have deep roots in our trail crew lore.

9:42 a.m. The trail has disappeared into lush meadows, so we take an early snack break before working to reestablish the route. I eat my last Kate’s bar, another oatmeal, cranberry, and almond, and then start wandering around, trying to match our maps to a nonexistent trail.

12 p.m. We haul ourselves into the shade. We were able to redefine the trail, but it cost us two extra hours of work that might put us home late. I eat one Wasa cracker, a nub of now very sweaty cheese, and a chunk of salami. I skip the mustard.

2:42 p.m. I join my coworker as he cruises down the trail toward the work truck. I offer him my remaining salami after he asks if I can hear his stomach grumbling. We gnaw on the rest of the salami, passing it back and forth like a relay baton. We hate it and love it.

4:15 p.m. We finally pull into Hoback Market. We spent the drive mentally shopping the aisles and now we scatter into the store. I get a bottle of lemon LaCroix ($1.99), C20 coconut water with ginger, lime, and turmeric ($3.99), chicken nuggets from the deli ($4.00), and a small bag of plain Lay’s ($2.69). Back in the truck, I eat the chicken nuggets and chips with the LaCroix first, then quickly drink the coconut water while it’s still cold.

7:45 p.m. I’m home and taking inventory of my fridge food while a Whole Foods thin crust pepperoni pizza bakes. I have salad greens that are still good, but not much else, so I eat a quick salad with olive oil, balsamic reduction, and salt and pepper. Then I eat my pizza and go to sleep.

Thursday total: $12.91

Friday

8:43 a.m. I make a pour-over of Groundwork Bitches Brew coffee. I filter into an insulated thermos so that I can drink many tiny mugs of coffee throughout the morning without it getting cold. I sniff my carton of last week’s half-and-half, give it a tiny taste to make sure it’s still good, and use the remainder for my coffee. I have Franz whole wheat English muffins in the freezer, so I put two in the toaster while I drink my coffee. I also fry an egg and butter the English muffins.

3 p.m. My stomach tells me I skipped lunch just before I leave to go grocery shopping. I toast one more English muffin and grab a bottle of Health-Ade pomegranate kombucha. My friends and I have plans to grill tonight, so I add “grill stuff” to my grocery list while I eat. I’ll figure out what that means once I’m in the store.

4:21 p.m. At Whole Foods, I get enough groceries for my six days off ($93.48). Before my drive home, I eat a handful of the dark chocolate sea salt almonds ($6.78 for 0.59 lb. at $11.49/lb.) that I gave into in the bulk section.

7 p.m. I eat my third slice of watermelon as peppers, corn, and potatoes cook on the grill. With everyone’s contributions, we have a feast ahead of us that includes grilled corn salad, caprese salad, lemon roasted potatoes, lemon herb chicken thighs, and steak. I contribute the potatoes and meat: I prep the potatoes by chopping an onion into large pieces, quartering the potatoes, and halving two lemons. Then I mix it all in a foil pouch with Graza sizzle olive oil, Fly By Jing Sichuan chili crisp, and plenty of salt and pepper.

8 p.m. Our meal is ready. Well, some of the potatoes are still a little firm, but we’re ready to eat. We pile plates and sit on blankets in the backyard. I grab a can of passionfruit tangerine Health-Ade kombucha, a flavor that has quickly become my summer obsession. Our neighbor cat visits us while we eat, but we soon realize she’s just there to steal the small pieces of tough meat set aside. We lounge and move slowly. No one is in a rush to leave the glow of the sunset.

Friday total: $93.48

Saturday

9:12 a.m. I forgot to get bread yesterday, and I can’t bring myself to eat another English muffin. I make a single mug of strong coffee, feeling happy with this as my breakfast.

Thankfully, it’s Saturday, so I bike a few blocks to the farmers market, where I buy bread fresh from the 460 stand instead of driving across town to the grocery store (where it’s still fresh, just farther away). I pick out an olive and thyme loaf ($7.50), straying from my usual multigrain for the first time in months. I explain to the bakers that it’s a momentous occasion and we laugh about it. They gift me a large chunk of focaccia to try so that I don’t have to venture away from the multigrain again anytime soon.

Then I head over to Cosmic Apple’s stand and I somehow immediately have an armful of sunflowers. I’m only here for tomatoes ($8/pint of four tomatoes), but I leave with Hakurei turnips ($5/bunch) and three sunflowers ($5 each) as well. I’ve worked and volunteered for Cosmic Apple, an organic and biodynamic farm, and it’s hard to not love their produce after experiencing the care, knowledge, and dedication that is poured into the farm.

I quickly catch up with the owners, but the line is starting to wrap around the stand so I pack up my produce and head back to my bike. The piles of cheese at Winter Winds Farm’s stand catch my eye on the way, and I stop for their herbed chèvre ($10 for 5 oz.).

11:29 a.m. I slice into a tomato, eating the first two pieces I cut. I say this about a lot of summertime tomatoes, but this is the best one I’ve had this year. I stop myself from eating it all to cut a piece of focaccia and put it in the toaster. I use a potato peeler to thinly slice a turnip and I cut an avocado ($2.99/six-count bag) from yesterday. I grab the lightly toasted bread, spread chèvre on the bottom and avocado on the top, and then layer the turnips, tomatoes, and some arugula from our tiny backyard garden. Between each layer, I drizzle Graza olive oil and sprinkle salt and pepper. I grab a can of kombucha and head to the backyard to eat. The sandwich is fresh and crunchy, and the herbs from the cheese add earthiness and depth to the veggies.

4:19 p.m. One more English muffin makes its way into my day after all. I toast it, then drizzle tahini, split open a few Medjool dates, drizzle more tahini on those, then top them all with blueberries, honey, and Maldon sea salt. I take one bite then go back to the spice rack and sprinkle cinnamon across both halves.

7:38 p.m. I’ve been waiting until the kitchen empties out to start cooking dinner. I’m making a recipe I often come back to because of its versatility: New York Times Cooking’s Weeknight Fancy Chicken and Rice. I thinly slice my onion and start sautéing it. I want warm spices tonight, so I mix ground cardamom, cinnamon, a pinch of cloves, cumin, chili flakes, and freshly ground black pepper. I prefer whole cardamom pods, but last time I made this dish I used cardamom pods and pistachios and bit into every single cardamom pod, mistaking it for a pistachio. Although I’m using pine nuts, not pistachios this time, I decide to eliminate that possibility altogether.

I sear chicken breasts I started thawing from my freezer yesterday, then add finely minced garlic gloves. Once the garlic is fragrant, I add my rice and water, then pinch in a few strands of saffron I always forget I have. I know I want something fresh with this meal, so I make a quick cucumber salad. I peel the cucumber ($0.89), then use the potato peeler to slice it into a bowl. I add Eden toasted sesame oil, salt and pepper, and Fly By Jing chili oil. It’s missing some depth of flavor, so I pilfer two spoonfuls of kimchi juice from a housemate’s supply. When the rice is cooked, I fold in currants and pine nuts that I just toasted in my cast iron.

9:12 p.m. I’m lingering at the kitchen table, and a few friends trickle in for an evening snack. As I watch them create plates, I accept that I’m still hungry too. I help myself to more chicken and rice that’s still sitting on the stove, and five of us crowd around the table. We compare calluses from the week and appreciate the ease of life inside a house.

Saturday total: $41.25

Sunday

8:06 a.m. I make a thermos of pour-over coffee and bring my book to the kitchen table. I’m not ready for breakfast yet, but as I smell the toast and bacon and smoothies of my housemates’ breakfasts, I decide to join in.

I pull out some questionable kale from last week, throwing away two yellowed leaves, and then reach for shiitake mushrooms ($5.49), a small onion, and the leftover grilled potatoes. I sauté the onion in olive oil, then add butter and chopped shiitakes. I add the kale that I quickly chopped into ribbons and keep the heat on until the kale is wilted. I heat up a few small pieces of leftover steak in the cast iron and toast a slice of the olive loaf. I don’t love the smoky grilled lemon of the potatoes with the buttery shiitakes, but it’s good enough and I eat most of it, saving the rest for later.

1 p.m. I meet a friend at Picnic for “adjacent hanging out,” a.k.a. sitting in silence while we both work on personal projects. I’m experimenting with new watercolor pencils and she’s researching her future trip on the Baja Divide bike-packing trail. I order my favorite combination here: White Wolf white tea blend ($4.00 for a pot) and toast with butter and jam ($4.00). The delicate floral tea complements the sweet and tangy strawberry jam. The sourdough toast tastes freshly baked, and there’s a generous spread of butter on each slice.

1:30 p.m. I feel hydrated from the tea, so I gift myself another coffee for the afternoon. I order a double espresso over ice and top it with a splash of half-and-half. ($4.45 with tip)

3 p.m. My ripening peaches catch my eye and I gently press one to check if it’s ready yet. It feels soft and smells great, so I split it open with my hands over the sink and eat each half in about three bites. I finish my cucumber salad from yesterday, slicing a turnip into what’s remaining.

5:23 p.m. I heat up leftover chicken and rice for dinner in the cast iron. I add a dollop of Fage plain yogurt ($6.49), a drizzle of olive oil, and salt and pepper. It’s simple and I eat quickly, eager to continue the watercolor project I started this afternoon.

9:04 p.m. I walk into the kitchen as a housemate pulls chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. I can’t resist the combination of a cookie and coffee, so I make a small mug of half-caf and eat four cookies with it while we sit on the floor in her van, a cherished hangout spot. We talk about our upcoming trail projects. The hail storm earlier today makes us wonder when the snow will arrive again. The neighbor cat greets us as we go back inside and, despite the sugar and caffeine, I feel ready to settle into bed.

Sunday total: $14.63

Originally Appeared on Bon Appétit