Day 4. Butterflies and blowdowns

 Day 4 7/12/23
Butterflies and blowdowns

This has been the day that Jan has been dreading. It's blowdown hell! And she knew this was coming because we've already gone over them once. But that's the thing about and out and back, sometimes the dread of knowing what's to come can be worse than not knowing. So we go back over the blowdowns and I do my best to distract myself with butterflies. My legs are much longer than Jan's so my experience of the blowdowns is so different. But on the other hand, I absolutely hate steep dropoffs, while Jan moves with ease past cliffs that make my head spin. We make a good team.

Long trips give you time for your mind to wander. I have been noticing how memories of previous PCT experiences are coming back. It makes me feel grateful for all the twists and turns in my life. And how things worked out not how I expected but in ways that gave me more than I expected.

Unlike the crowded feeling of the trail yesterday afternoon, there are a reasonable number of hikers and most are either courteous or even friendly so it all feels OK again.

We meet a group of Australian hikers who have flipped up to Washington who were on the shuttle with me to Mazama. It’s great seeing them again! They share the story of how when they got a ride up from Mazama to the PCT at Harts Pass, how they’d been confused and asked where the monument was and were surprised to find it was 30 miles away! They thought they'd be dropped off at the border! They scrambled to get enough food that they hadn’t anticipated! I’m glad they were fast hikers and could make it work.

The climb is gradual and not as bad as I expected. I am constantly amazed how gentle PCT grade is- how can the trail be this kind and easy?! How can I forget this fact? It is such a contrast to how hiking is for me back in Utah. My body feels so good- I keep thinking I should be feeling pains and my knee should be hurting but it isn’t.

Unlike when we did this section three days ago, this time the butterflies are out so I dart about taking their photos and inaturalize everything. 

PCO Jan

The, the clouds are swirling and part enough to reveal the stunning peaks and we take a rest break on a ridge and watch the clouds gliding across the peaks and it is better than any TV. 

When Jan and I round the corner to camp the wind hits us. After setting up early, I start to worry about the flapping of my tarp in the strong gusts. While Jan rests, I wander around and looked for less windy site, feeling annoyed that I can't find anything better. As I adjust my tarp to get tight pitch, Jan tells me to be patient and that the wind will die down. I remain doubtful but then, sure enough, the wind was calm all night and I wish I had just trusted Jan.

I fall asleep early and it is wonderfully restful and restorative hammock sleep that is only broken up by a trip to pee where the stars are twinkling and everything is quiet. The best kind of night.

 I didn't know if I would keep up a journal during this section or not. For my 2021 hike, I didn't write anything. But for this trip, it just feels right to put down a few thoughts every night.

Day 2. Moody Washington

Day 2
7/10/23

Below Tatie Peak to before Methow Pass

Today there was moody Washington weather... and I loved it! The fog rolls over the mountains and we get to see it from high places. The cool air makes hiking so sweet. I don't miss the dry heat and intense sunlight of Moab at all. Today, we get clouds and the threat of rain and I couldn't be happier.

I peer down after reaching a pass and realize that there is an incredibly steep descent stretching out below. Will my knees be able to handle it? I slow my pace and Jan is way down ahead of me. But I have no confidence. She waits for me and we take an extra break. And before I know it we are at the bottom at Glacier Pass and my knee is fine. Just fine. Maybe I will make it to Canada after all.

Jan and I aren't heading to Canada at this point though. Our plan is unusual. But fits us perfectly. I love out and backs and taking our time. Jan doesn't want to deal with a car shuttle or logistics of going into town. So we've left Jan's car at Harts Pass and our plan to complete the northernmost 50-60ish miles of the PCT is to do two out-and-backs from the mid-point, Harts Pass. We are starting with an out-and-back going south towards Rainy Pass-- but actually we don't need to make it all the way there since last time we turned around several miles north of Rainy. So we are setting up today for tomorrow's out-and-back where we can slackpack and just leave our camping stuff, tag our turn around spot from 2016, and then come back to camp. What fun! Plus, we get to hike more miles this way which appeals to me!

At the end of the day, we encounter lots of blowdowns. Jan has shorter legs and these blowdowns are exhausing for her. I've got really long legs, so I find it easy to step over them. Jan is starting to dread going back over these on an out and back. We will see if we end up sticking with our plan.

Day 35- When the snow flies

Day 35- When the snow flies

Oregon PCT Section F

At 2040 (Upper Lake)

Snow swirls in the wind. It's pretty against the reds of the berry bushes. Snow starts accumulating in patches along the trail, tucked in crevices around tree stumps.

White and fluffy.

I hike. Climbing higher. Watching. Thinking. Weighing options.

Maybe the snow will stop. Maybe the sun will come out. Maybe I will keep hiking all the way to Santiam Pass. I want to keep hiking. Please.

But the snow doesn't stop. The flakes get bigger. They swirl everywhere. 

I camped at 5300 feet but there are passes ahead that go up over 6800 feet. The next night will be high and possibly exposed. The forecast is for more precipitation in next few days. How much will fall as snow and how much as rain?

Its all the what if's- what if I can't find the trail because it is obscured by snow? What if I get too cold in my 3-season gear? It's also possible that there will just be a light dusting and it will be beautiful beyond imagine and I will have challenged myself and made it through successfully. 

But how much of a chance is there that I will get myself into a situation where I am in way over my head? If I turn around, am I being overly cautious or making a smart decision that will allow me to live to hike another day? 

Then there is the fact that Pathfinder is back in town, hopefully at the doctors by now getting her bee sting checked out. If I leave the trail at least I know that we will have fun together for the next few days before she flies out. We always have fun. And Slowbro is nearby and we will get to hang out too. And really, having fun and sharing time with friends-- isn't that more important than "completing" this section of trail right now? What would I be proving to myself if I risked it by continuing? What do I need to prove?

When it comes down to it, what to do is clear.

I use my InReach to message Pathfinder.

As I wait for a reply, I sit on the ground eating peanut butter watching the snow. Higher up I can see the trees are covered in white.When I get lower will I forget what it is like to be up here in the quiet? Will I regret this decision? Will it matter that at least I gave it a try and went beyond my comfort zone in being out here by myself? 

I think about what is has been like to leave my comfortable life to find out what the trail had to teach me.

***

The InReach sounds that I got a new message- yes Renee made it to the doctor. Yes she will get a rental car and pick me up.

I hike out slowly, trying to soak in everything. As I descend the snow turns to sleet and then to rain.

Passing this lake for the fourth time...

 At the road near Ollalie Lake Resort, I start walking down the road. Within a few minutes a couple in a big truck stops and takes pity on me. They give me a ride out the long dirt road to the main paved road where they turn are headed the other way so I get out and wait.  I stand in rain under my umbrella until Pathfinder picks me up. When she opens the door, I know I've made the right decision.

***

I set out on the PCT with the intention of hiking "until the snow flies" and it sure flew. Earlier than I'd hoped. But I think I learned the lessons the trail needed to teach me for now. I will return.

***
What happened next? I never got around to posting about it, but Pathfinder tells the story of our days after the PCT dayhiking around Oregon and visiting SlowBro on her blog.

Day 34- Ollalie Lake

Oregon PCT Section F

2052 (Trooper Spring) to 2040 (Upper Lake) and back and forth to 2043 (Ollalie Lake)

Pathfinder's bee sting from yesterday swells up to size of a salad plate. No, it's more like a Frisbee, all red and raised, the swelling creating pressure against her knee. Making it hard to hike. So we hike slow. 

Showing off the huge red welt above her knee, Pathfinder is still upbeat no matter what.

"How's your breathing?" I ask. "OK." replies Pathfinder. "Did your other bee sting swell this much?"

"Umm, no."

We ponder what this might mean, as the day wears on.

There is time to look around as I stroll down the trail behind Pathfinder. Changing colors are bright. The reds of the maples stand out against the contrasting grey rocks of the large boulder fields. 

Boulder fields.

We take long rest breaks when Pathfinder says her knee starts bothering her more.

Powerline cuts become destinations. They have sun. And sun means warmth.

 "Is your breathing still OK, Pathfinder?"

I hope I'm not being overly annoying. But Pathfinder is not strolling but struggling. Trying not to limp. Why is the allergic reaction so bad? She says she's never had a sting get this swollen before. Will this allergic reaction progress in more unexpected ways? 

It is obvious we need to get her out of the backcountry and checked out by doctor. Luckily, we are nearing a road crossing.

***

Ollalie Lake Resort has no phone or internet. But they do have a number for a shuttle service. Pathfinder and I stand (sit and then lay) by the road for an hour seeing if we can hitch out. Its a dirt road very very far out. No traffice at all. Finally Pathfinder uses her Inreach to call her mom who contacts the shuttle service who can come in 2-3 hours to pick her up and take her to a town with an urgent care center. Phew!

Waiting. Photo by Pathfinder

I don't know what I should do. I've always gone off the trail with my hiking buddies who got injured or sick. It's what I do-- stay with them all the way back. But after hiking so slow and feeling like this entire trip hasn't gotten me far, I really want to keep hiking on. 

Pathfinder assures me she's fine going to town without me. The shuttle driver will get her there. So I set out on the PCT towards Santiam Pass- the plan is that Slowbro, who I met back in 2014 at Kennedy Meadows, will meet me there and I'm sure he will help me reconnect with Pathfinder.

Immediately I have that dreadful feeling I'm making a mistake. That I should have waited with Pathfinder until the shuttle arrived. I keep hiking hoping the feeling will go away. She said she was fine, I remind myself. I get a few miles out. What if the shuttle doesn't come? What if Pathfinder gets worse...? So I turn around and hike back, practically running down the trail until I am back and find here. Of course she is fine. The shuttle arrives but again I hesitate. Should I go or hike on? I don't know. She assures me she'll be OK. 

I hike out again. Past the lakes again, past the same views again. The light is fading. I set up my hammock in the dark in a site I'd scoped out earlier.

I wake up to strange sound on the tarp, softer than rain. It is snow. Lightly falling snow. I shine my headlamp out and it sparkles. 

How much will fall? What will it look like in the morning? What will happen?

There is nothing I can think to do, at 2 AM. So I tuck myself back into my quilts.  At least I am warm. I listen to the soft patter of the snow until I finally fall back asleep.

Day 33- Birthday on the PCT

Oregon PCT Section F

2070 (Miller Trail Junction) to 2052 (Trooper Spring)

More soft gradual trail. How can the PCT be so kind and gentle and flat? It finally makes sense how thru-hikers can do 30 mile days here. I think about my hiking group back in Georgia- the Trail Dames- and how this would make an ideal trip for beginning backpackers. I can almost hear their laughter echoing through these hills.

For me though, I miss the climbs, the challenge. Is it really backpacking if I don't break a sweat or get my heart rate up? Am I having a worthwhile experience if I'm just floating along? What is the trail teaching me today? Yellow and red maples glow in the sun. The sky continues to be blue but now there are a few white puffy things up there floating around. Weather looks like it will be changing soon.

Pathfinder walking through the maples.

Better savor the warmth while it lasts. We stop for a break in a powerline cut. Normally stumps make me sad but I sit on one and think about "The Giving Tree" - a favorite book (and one that I'd read to the kids for one of the interpretive programs back at my park in Montana)- and think about life and death and perspectives.

Soaking in the sun at a powerline cut

At the Warm Springs River getting water, we meet Monarch, who is finishing her thru hike southbound since she flipped up to Washington. I hike with her a few hours (after agreeing to meet Pathfinder at the next junction) and we cruise up the hill and share life stories the way that we do out here- with intensity and honesty, getting quickly to the heart of the matter because we don't have long. In a matter of minutes, we establish our commonalities, share life stories, and say that which is most pressing. And then we part ways just as quickly.

Today is my birthday so I think birthday thoughts about where I am in my life and what it means to be approaching 40. Thank goodness I still have another year in my 30's because what does 40 mean? Will I have to start acting my age? Does that mean quitting hanging upside-down from random ladder things or swimming across nearly-freezing lakes? Will I have to go back to having responsibilities and quit living a free life? What if I like being free of debt, free of a mortgage or lease, free of pets or even a garden? Or is my time getting shorter, the eventuality of death more real, so I should pack in even more backpacking, more adventure, while I still can? More importantly, I wonder about what I have to show for myself for my life's accomplishments? Have I made any sort of difference in the world? I told Monarch I used to do scientific research and she asked me what my research showed. When I told her, the answer seemed so pitifully small and unimportant so I told her about teaching and mentoring students and joining AmeriCorps to do conservation education at a state park.

Then again, sometimes it feels like the biggest impacts we can have are the small ways we bring brightness to our coworkers and friends and the chance people we meet along the way.

I try not to get nervous about what will happen when I get off the trail. Will I find a job that is challenging and rewarding? Please let it not be a flat easy cruiser miles job.  At least I haven't left the world a worse place. Like it is enough to follow Leave No Trace and not do anything really harmful to anything or anyone? No real or metaphorical toilet paper left lying around in the woods- nope I pack it out and bury my poop.

Trooper Springs has a sweet campsite nearby and I bushwhack around to find a sheltered spot in dense trees out of the wind. We are at camp early so there is plenty of time to repair some holes with the additional thread I picked up courtesy of Timberline Lodge. This is another result of my No New Gear experiment- most everything is threadbare and falling apart, and sewing it back together is a regular camp chore.

Mending a hole in my shirt. Photo by Pathfinder.

Pathfinder gets a bee sting today. We joke about how much benedryl and anti-itch cream we are going through. She got a whole squeeze tube full early in the trip thinking she couldn't possibly use all of it. But I've been borrowing it too for a bee sting I got a few days ago and now we pass it back and forth. Remembering days past of repackaging everything into small dropper bottles, and drying dots of toothpaste.  Now I am hauling 3 oz bottles of sunscreen and aquafor (vasaline/ antichafing/ foot cream) and we have this huge tube of anti-itch stuff and we are going through all of it and glad for it. Except maybe the sunscreen- that is only getting a little use. But I keep carrying it, putting a little on each day. It feels like carrying a little tube of hope.

Pathfinder gives me her chocolate pudding as a special birthday treat and I savor the chocolaty-goodness in a plastic bag of wonderfulness. We wander into the meadow to watch the sunset glow pink and purple and life stands still in a moment of pure joy and appreciation for everything-- this day, this hike, all the opportunities I have had my entire life, all the people I have loved and all the friends I have had. It all seems too wonderful to comprehend. 

Watching the sunset at Trooper Springs.

It rains only briefly during night. My tarp is dry before I pack it up in the morning.

Day 32- Little Crater Lake

Day 32- Little Crater Lake

Oregon PCT Section F

2089 (Barlow Pass) to 2070 (Miller Trail Junction)

19 miles

You may think all that swimming in lakes that I've been doing this past month has been just for fun. That I've been out here wandering around lollygaging and swimming around lazily.  But really the swimming has been very serious training in preparation for today's major swimming event. Because today was the big day- the Little Crater Lake Challenge.

Little Crater Lake is surprisingly deep (45 feet down)

Little Crater Lake is a striking blue and 34 degrees.  It was formed by the force of an artesian spring eroding away the soft rock. When I was 8 or 10 my parents took us here several times.

Family legend was that Dad once (he says twice) swam all the way across the near-freezing waters. 

My sister and I would take a brief dip along the shallow shore before quickly getting out. I remember thinking how amazing my Dad was for going all the way across, hoping to one day I'd grow up to be as daring as he.

So when I realized that the PCT would take me to Little Crater Lake, I knew what I had to do. I've been in "training" now for nearly a month. Getting my nutrition dialed in (peanut butter!), practicing getting in and out of lakes in record time, making sure I can withstand cold waters without cramping up or worse, swimming in the rain just in case that's what I have to do. All those swims have prepared me for this big day.

Go, go, go!

 The sun was warm and no rain- perfect conditions. No dawdling at the shore, no hesitation. Swim, swim, swim! And hope that the heart stays strong so Renee doesn't have to rescue me. I had practiced swimming over fallen log obstacles, so I sailed over smoothly. But oh this water is cold and stinging and bank is so far away... just keep going. Then.. oh yes get out into the sun! I made it! Yes I'm daring (or foolish) just like my dad. All that preparation paid off.

***

The PCT is walk in the park grade easy today. Flat and wide. We stroll along under a blue sky enjoying red and yellows leaves of fall and all the giant trees.

Massive giants

Lollygaging continues as we take a long break along Timothy Lake. Or maybe its not lollygaging but preparation for something very important that requires observation and patience?!

Listening to the lapping of waves on the shore of Timothy Lake.

Camp is made above Clackamas  Lake near the Miller Trail junction, where we watch the light change and get clear water from the spring that feeds the lake. Ah what a good life this is!

Renee gets water

Day 31- Timberline Lodge

Day 31- Timberline Lodge

Oregon PCT Section G

2094 (Timberline Lodge) to 2089 (Barlow Pass)

5 miles

Woke up well rested at Timberline Lodge and watched the morning light glow off Mt Hood sitting on comfy chairs. Another vacation from vacation. 

Warming up to hot drinks in the lodge's main room

The famous all you can eat breakfast buffet was as good as they say.

View from Timberline Lodge

But I thought the best part, as you would guess, was catching the last ranger talk of the season. It focused on how the WPA built Timberline Lodge and how it put all those unemployed people to work during the Great Depression. The ranger highlighted details of the craftsmanship (that I missed from just briefly walking around)- pointing out the wrought iron work and how the giant pillars were made of ponderosa pine and the balcony where Roosevelt dedicated the lodge on Sept 28 1937. 

Stonework and craftsmanship of the lodge

The talk really brought the whole place to life. We also learned that the women of WPA hand crafted the rugs out of old worn out CCC uniforms. Talk about recycling!

It really made me appreciate the lasting legacy of this WPA program and the handwork of all those men and women. 

In the afternoon, Renee and I headed down the mountain. Seeing Timberline Lodge get smaller and smaller in the distance, we could see how massive this stratovolcano is in comparison.  

Heading out of Timberline Lodge down the sandy trail

We had a nice easy day- just five miles to camp at Barlow Pass- with outhouse and picnic table, though the roar of traffic was heard into the wee hours.  But I somehow can sleep through anything in the comfort of my hammock. As much as I enjoy a night indoors and the history and beauty of Timberline Lodge, it feels good to be back in the simplicity of the forest and my little hammock home.

Home sweet home.

Day 29- Wandering around in the woods

Day 29- Just wandering around in the woods

Oregon Pacific Crest Trail Section G

2125 (Eagle Creek Alternate) to 2106 (Muddy Creek)

18 miles 

An unbelievably gorgeous day. Warm and sunny. Soft gradual trail. This feels like cheating. Isn't hiking the PCT suppose to be hard? 

Views of Mt. Rainier

We climb towards Mt Hood.

Mt. Hood

This close to Portland, there are many dayhikers and weekenders out asking, "Where are you coming from? How far are you going?"

I can't decide if I should tell them I'm coming from Mexico, Rainy Pass, or Cascade Locks. And I don't know how far I'm going. So I tell everyone that asks "I'm just wandering around in woods for a couple months."

Some people don't ask. They just make assumptions. Two people in particular.

One dayhiker looks at me up and down and says "Oh you must not be one of those PCT hikers." 

"What makes you think that?"

"Well you don't have a very big... um... pack" he says.

I think he means to say "dick." Like only big burly guys should be out here.

***

Later, another dayhiker says to me "You sure are getting a late start. But at least you got to do Washington."

This is before she asked me anything! What is this being late business!? I'm exactly on time. Why does she assume I'm a southbound thru hiker?!  I'm doing the PCT on my schedule- which is 1500 miles in 2014, then two AmeriCorps terms of service in Montana State Parks, and then 300 miles in Washington, and now however much I want in Oregon this year, and then I'll finish the rest sometime depending on how it fits in with my life. I'm not late I'm exactly where and when I want to be.

***

Today I was testing out a new pair of shoes I picked up in Portland. I wore an older version of the Altra Superiors this summer and liked them but have been wearing Keens this trip because I got the stress fracture in altras.  But I'm getting tired of the blisters the keens give me. The altras feel like wearing slippers with such soft padding and thick soles that float over rocks- no blisters even though didn't even tape my feet. I'm so excited until the first evening when I realize I can feel the stress fracture site talking again. Its not pain, just creaky. I felt this same thing a few weeks ago in the keens, so I don't know what to do. Is it just adjusting to the change in shoes? I decide to carry both shoes and keep changing back and forth.  That's what all the doctors wanted me to do when I was healing from the stress fracture, and it seems to make sense. Hopefully, it will keep the feet happy!

Trying out the new shoes, trying to keep the feet happy

 

Day 28- Oregon with Pathfinder

Day 28- Oregon with Pathfinder

Oregon Pacific Crest Trail Section G

15 miles on the Eagle Creek Alternate from Cascade Locks to Indian Springs

Last night H.B. met Pathfinder and I at the train station in Portland and took us out to Cascade Locks, where the PCT crosses from Washington into Oregon at the Bridge of the Gods. It was great finally meeting H.B. after knowing her through social media and having mutual friends. Thanks so much and sure hope we can hike sometime together in the future!

 

Pathfinder and I decided to take the scenic Eagle Creek Alternate which passes by over 11 waterfalls. It feels like taking a vacation from this vacation. The air is warm and the sun is shining through the rich green forest canopy to sparkle on the rushing water and huge waterfalls. 

 

The trail is soft and wide and easy. After so many miles hiking with Pathfinder, we fall instantly back into a comfortable, sweet rhythm together. What a change from freezing in the rain up in Washington! I'm so glad I choose to skip down to warmer weather and the joy of hiking with a good friend. 

 

There are large fish splashing in shallow water- trying to get up or downstream we can't tell. But there is that strong drive to get somewhere despite obstacles and there is that strong homing instinct. I remember reading about how some fish recognize their natal streams by smell and the color features of the rocks, and swim thousands of miles to get back to where they were born.

As I breathe in the Oregon air, the forest feels like it is welcoming me home. I was born in Portland and spend my first 13 years here. All the plants, mosses, ferns and colors are incredibly familiar. At a deep level, this is the forest I was imprinted on. I climbed these viney maple trees and made pies from these tiny red huckleberries that grown on the tall bushes. When we got scrapes, we'd put the spores from sword ferns on them to help them heal and stop the bleeding. 

 

A flood of memories come back from my childhood seeing the rocks and the falls, classic Gorge scenery. My favorite hike was Oneonta Gorge   where we would follow my Dad and try to make it all the way back by climbing on rocks and rock-hopping without getting our feet wet and the best were those days we would see no one else. That was one of the first places we were taught how special it is to be in a place with few or no other people. But that was 30 years ago (wow I'm getting old) and now I hear its getting very crowded. Where will kids go to learn to treasure solitude and unspoiled places? 

 

Today is National Public Lands Day, and since I'm not doing a community service project, I make extra efforts to clean up the trail. This is a popular area, so its not hard. I pick up five piles of toilet paper, knock over four rock cairns (by the stream so not for navigation) and pick up other trash including a wooden spoon. There is so much TP that I don't pick up and also some human poop that someone didn't bury -- this is so gross I wish people were more responsible for packing out their own TP and for cleaning up their waste. 

This is my first night in my new Darien hammock. I get in and the lay feels just right- total comfort.  The robic fabric is silky soft and I couldn't be happier. Thank you so much to Randy and Deanna of Dream Hammocks for sending me a new hammock on such short notice! What caring people and exceptional customer service.

 

Day 24- Into White Pass

Day 24- Into White Pass

Washington PCT Section I

2299 to 2292 (White Pass)

7 miles

Frost. Mist rising. The sound of elks bugling. Maybe one of the most beautiful sounds I've heard. On par with the cry of the loon at least.

 

Thoughts cloudy and swirling with brain fog. Definitely a fever. Must pretend I am OK until I get somewhere safe. Must hike hike hike.

I question every northbound hiker about the next section called the Goat Rocks and about the Knife Edge. The phrase "extreamely sketchy" is used nearly universally. Some add "most dangerous thing I've ever done" and "hardest part of the PCT" and "Don't cross it like I did the snow and 100 mph winds. I could have easily died up there."

I get cell phone service and check weather and there is a high chance of storms the next few days.

I think about what it means to be brave versus stubborn. I think about words like grit and fear, adventure and safety, comfort and risk. I try not to think of it in terms of quitting. Mostly I just want to be somewhere I can lay down and be warm until my head stops swirling and the feverish chills and aches go away. 

 

The store at White Pass is so warm. Warmth, ah what a beautiful precious thing! 

Steph (who helped care for me when I got the stress fracture in the Sierra section of the PCT in 2014- and who helped me get back on trail) has sent me a resupply box here and its bursting with wonderful food and surprises - a true Care Package! Where will I be when I eat this wonderful food? I have no idea.

The northbounders sitting around the store have wild looks like they have escaped death but barely. While I've been hiking through rain they have been hiking in falling sleet and snow and the winds have been even fiercer. 

I sit and talk to the northbounders about the pros and cons of the two routes through Goat Rocks.  There is the low route, the official PCT, over the Packwood Glacier with a "really sketchy" snow traverse that has iced over in the storms we've been having. The hikers that went this way describe a steep scree scramble before the icy glacier traverse with tough kick steps. Jan has told me not to go this way. She says that more people die on the Packwood glacier traverse. 

Some of the hikers say they tried to go over the high route alternate over the knife edge but the wind literally knocked them off their feet and they had to turn around and take the other way. 

Neither if these sound like good options. 

Everyone says wait until the weather is better. But how long do I wait?

In the meantime, I need to wait to get my new hammock and I need to wait until my illness gets better. 

It takes me a while to get a ride at White Pass to the town of Packwood. Am I sticking my thumb out too high? Should I wear my red raincoat or blue fleece shirt? Am I smiling too much? 

But the wait is worth it because the woman who picks me up is just the right person. Deborah works at a community college in Yacama and we talk about the joys working with college students and AmeriCorps. Mount Rainier finally shows itself on the drive down and then Deborah drops me right off at the hotel some other hikers recommended. Thank you Deborah!

I get a room at the Hotel Packwood which is a deal for $45 including laundry and is right across the street from the public library. I sit on the porch and watch my tarp, poncho, and ground cloth flapping in the brisk wind and the storm clouds building over the mountains. The poncho has a fresh collection of new holes, and I wonder why I wasted all that tenacious tape and waterproof spray on it instead of just buying a new one. I take stock of the dreadful state of my feet and the feverishness coursing through my body. 

****

Then I spend the next two days recovering in town and devising a plan. They only charge me $31 a night for the room the next nights and I find some deals at the grocery store so I don't waste money on going out. Once I am in bed I realize how sick I am.

 

I also realize that I have more than two choices. It's not Knife Edge versus Packwood Glacier traverse. I can be ANYWHERE. 

This is my life. This is my hike. I can make choices. I have freedom. 

I will choose to hike through Goat Rocks section some other time. I have hiked 300 miles now in Washington. That is good. I will be back. For now, I decide I want to be in Oregon. I grew up in Portland and even though I haven't been back for many, many years, Oregon is my roots. It is important for me to hike there now, I decide. 

I don't care that the thru hikers do the trail in a linear manner. I want to make meaning in my hike that is my own personal thing, that is mine alone, that is for my reasons. 

Then more good news! Renee/ Pathfinder is in Sisters, Oregon but will come meet me in Portland/ Cascade Locks to hike southbound through Oregon together. I'm excited because its fun sharing the trail with a good hiking buddy. It will mean adjusting my pace again though, but I decide I don't care how many miles and at this time of year it will certainly be safer hiking with Renee than solo.

***

The day before I take the bus/ train to Portland. I talk to northbounders who waited for a break in the weather to cross the Knife Edge and they say it was one of the most beautiful days they've had on trail. I briefly think about continuing on. I know I could do it safely by waiting, watching the forecast and timing it right now that I have gathered all these stories and information. Talking to them though allows me to come to peace with my decision. It makes it feel like I am not avoiding challenges, but rather that I am making a positive decision for myself.

Let the Adventure Continue....

Day 23-What is comfort?

Day 23- What is comfort?
2323 to 2299 (Buesch Lake)

Washington PCT Section I

24 miles

In Stehekin, a guest at the lodge explained why she doesn't camp- "There is no comfort!"

I wake up thinking of that word "comfort" and what it means to me out here as the cold rain falls. I am warm. My hammock didn't rip during the night and spill me into the cold wet ground. Is that comfort? 

I send a message on my InReach to Still Waters to have her coordinate with Randy of Dream Hammocks to send a new hammock to my next stop. What does it mean that I can be anywhere and yet know there are people out there looking out for me. Is that comfort?

A well-traveled deflated mylar balloon glistens in the rain and I shove it into my pack because there is a trashcan at the road crossing in just a few miles. Not just a trashcan but also an outhouse that a hiker told me he'd slept in a few nights ago. I redefine comfort to mean trashcans, and the shelter of an outhouse.

A strange sounds echoes below in the valley in the pre-dawn. It sounds like a musical instrument. Or perhaps some strange relative of the sandhill crane. What could it be? 

 

It is raining even harder. The trail is slick and my legs are lead weights. My brain is sloggish and dark thoughts about quitting swirl in my brain and I'm feverishly sweaty. My lips and eyelids are burning up. Dang thats how I get when I am sick. But I can't be sick I must ignore it and hike on like normal. There is no way I can quit I'm not a quitter even if my hammock is torn and its rainy/cold/miserable. I try to remember that feeling of warmth from the morning and I check my InReach messages to see if they can send a new hammock. But there is no reply so I have no idea if and when a new hammock will reach me.

The outhouse at Chinook Pass is a palace. They even have furniture I think as I prop my pack up on the trashcan. And toilet paper- oh that marvelous wonder! I sit in the outhouse and listen to cars wiz by and wonder what it would be like to stick my thumb out and get a ride into town. 

 

Instead, I gulp down more spoonfuls of peanut butter, try to tell myself Im not really that sick, put on my pack and adjust the poncho, put my umbrella up, and enter into the William O. Douglas Wilderness.

My brain is jolted out of the fog and cold seeing the name of that great progressive supreme court justice. I remember the story of how William  O Douglas saved the C and O Canal from being paved into a highway by inviting the important decision makers/ newspaper to go hiking with him along that beautiful stretch, and what a remarkable area was subsequently preserved. It's a story my Dad told a hundred times when we'd take family hikes on the C and O canal tow path near our Maryland home when I was in high school. I have no idea though why this area was named in his honor- was he from this area- but I am warmed by the thought that I actually remembered one of my Dad's stories (See Dad, I did pay attention!)

As the wind picks up and it gets colder and rainier, I hike in survival mode. Seeing only the mud and concentrating on not slipping on rocks.

There is a single break in the clouds. A ray of sun shines down at an angle. I stop in my tracks to look over at it. The bream of light cutting through darkness above a meandering creek. A great blue heron flies through the light. Then both it and the light are gone. It was just a moment. But it is, once again, enough to sustain me through a few more cold-dark-completely uncomfortable hours.

And then, two hikers are standing by the side of the trail and they are going Southbound!!! The first southbounders this section. Comfort comes in the form of conversation and connection. These two women who stop to look at mushrooms and pick sweet blueberries! Turns out they were in Americorps/ Peacecorps too and we all worked with kids! We hike together the rest of the afternoon. They tell me the alien sound of the morning was elk bugling!  

 

Turns out they aren't stopping at White Pass so I decide to go camp by myself so I will have time to focus on patching up my hammock. It feels like the coldest and dampest night yet but maybe its the fever and my hands fumble and the tape doesn't want to stick. But I am persistent and cut out a patchwork of butterfly bandage-like repairs using all the tape I have. I set up the hammock nearly on the ground- so low that my butt rests on the ground (or rather on my raincoat spread over the groundcloth on the geound). But at least my head and feet are off ground and most importantly the down underquilt can loft fully around my shoulders to keep me warm. It seems like a good compromise between safety (not falling far if the hammock fails) and comfort (being slightly elevated allows me to stay warmer since the down under-quilt isn't compressed). If it were warmer, my torso pad would be enough and Ive gone to ground fine with it a few times but not when its freezing.

Before I fall asleep, I get a message from Still Waters that the new hammock is on its way. I fall asleep listening to splashes of rain on the tarp and try to figure out what Im doing out here. Why didn't I hitch into town at the road crossing? Why does the experience feel like its worth it?

Day 21- Turtle mode

Day 21- Turtle mode

Washington PCT Section I

2369 to 2347

22 very wet miles

Rain all day long. No breaks. It is heavy unrelenting and cold.

The cold freezes all happiness and the greyness starts to fill me with hopelessness. One tries many techniques to raise ones spirits. I pass many nobos wearing headphones to escape. I don't want to escape. My goal is be present.  So I try to let the rain soak through me and not let it get me down, just run over me all zen. I follow streams of water running down trail and try to be one with the water, but this doesn't work either I just feel stupid for being out here in the cold.

I figure I need to try another technique to get my spirits up. I try to think about the big picture, or at least my understanding of rain. How water molecules cycle through over and over getting to travel for miles and have so many adventures- maybe a water molecule starts out as pika pee and ends up in an alpine lake and then evaporates to a cloud over Mount Rainier only to fall as snow and get stuck in a glacier for years and then melts in a stream is drunk by a hiker. Its actually quite amazing if you think about it. This line of thinking makes me less resentful of precipitation.

Precipitation, condensation, percolation, perspiration, urination, transpiration-- it's all right here!  The water cycle in action!

 

At the state park where I spent the past two summers, teaching about the water cycle was one of my favorite field trip programs. The third graders make up skits to act out the water cycle and the kids would roll down the grassy hill pretending to be water in a stream and wiggle their hands pretending to be rain. Then they would all laugh and giggle. I try to think about that joy that kids have when they are being silly and it starts to warms my heart a tiny bit more and gets me through a few more miles. I don't know if this kind of reminiscing is not being present and escaping or whatever but I decide I don't care anymore.  I am desperate for something to cheer me up.

The umbrella provides protection from rain but no warmth. That's where the poncho comes in. Turtle Mode, my highly advanced hiker technique, is putting the poncho above your head like making your very own sheltered home and its a little warm if you breathe out and trap the hot air, just lacking in views. But I can get into my pack without getting rain inside my pack which is what makes Turtle Mode such an advanced brilliant maneuver. 



Jan took this photo of me in Turtle Mode last week.

 I allow one break all day to sit in turtle mode balancing my pack in my feet, poncho over my head spooning peanut butter into my mouth. For a moment I am almost warm. I wonder if anyone passes me on trail while I am huddled like this in the trees. I cant hear anything but rain. Maybe my dream hiking partner just walked by and I missed them.

An hour later I meet a northbounder named Mary Poppins who is carrying an umbrella. We stop and chat and I ask her if there are any other southbounders and if my dream hiking partner is walking right in front of me but I never catch up because we are so perfectly hiking at the same pace.  She says there is no one, dream or otherwise, close in front of me. But we get to talking and she is so super friendly and says I should come hike north with her and her friend and it is tempting but I decide to just keep going on.

In the afternoon, the wind gusts are so strong I have to take down my umbrella. What am I doing up so high on these exposed ridge? Oh that's why they call it the crest trail.

I am worried about the wind driving rain into my hammock, but see a grove of trees way down so I dart down the hill way off he pct and there is no wind (yet) so I hope it will protected enough to keep me safe.