10/21/2023
Section: Milepost 2594.1 to 2619
Total Trail Miles: 2489.7 Miles
Distance: 25.46 Miles
Moving Time: 10:23 Hrs
Elevation Gain: 5236 ft
I slept so well last night. We are running on fumes here at almost 2500 miles in and any sleep I get now is clutch! We woke this morning with no small amount of trepidation. The days are dark and the nights are full of terror but at least this morning we got to start with some continental breakfast! So begins the final stretch of our 2023 PCT adventure.
After we had eaten and Ray had run the dogs a bit, we meandered out to the truck and loaded up. Ray and Sandy then drove us west into the pass, making our way up the long grade, eventually cruising by the iconic hairpin turn under the watchful eye of North Early Winter Spire and arriving at Washington Pass just after 7 am. We unloaded and got our things in order, the Porters’ dogs sprinting around the parking lot in the early morning light. We completed our warm-ups and, with a small amount of ceremony, headed up the trail.
The stage today starts with a heady climb up to Cutthroat Pass, running briefly parallel to Hwy 20 in the early parts of the climb. The trail crosses Porcupine Creek about 1.5 miles in, at 5300 feet, before continuing its charge upwards, eventually scaling the north side of the creek’s cirque and arriving at Cutthroat Pass at 6900’. The PCT then winds across a ridgeline and descends on the northside, below Granit pass, and makes another small ascent above the vast Swamp Creek valley, to Methow Pass. Beyond Methow Pass, the PCT plunges 2200 feet into the West Fork Methow River Valley, eventually following the river to near its confluence with Brush Creek. At 17.5 miles, the PCT hitches west briefly and begins a climb up Bush Creek, eventually leaving it behind to scale the lower flanks of Grasshopper Peak to Glacier pass and then Grasshopper Pass, climbing 2500’ in 5 miles. The stage ends in a small basin below Syncline Mountain.
Amanda’s parents walked with us for a bit, going about ¼ mile before giving us big hugs and well-wishes for Canada. Our plan was to meet-up with them in 3 short days at Manning Park, so it wasn’t too long of a goodbye. After going our separate ways we started our climb and cruised. The trail was immaculate and at a grade to make some good time. Quite spectacular.
On our way up, we saw a group of chubby ptarmigans and stopped to give them words of encouragement in their ptarmigan-related activities. As we approached the upper elevations we began to see the Tamaracks. Also called larches, these trees turn a beautiful orange color in the fall and that color was on full display above 5500’. We continued to cruise upwards, passing some day hikers out also enjoying the colors. We said hello to them and continued on.
At Cutthroat pass we stopped and had a quick snack. I am really done with any and all energy/granola bars. Just can’t do them anymore. Even the Peanut Butter Filled Clif bars are slipping to my shit-list for backcountry food. Good thing the potato chips haven’t - I can still put down some chips! Could probably eat a whole bag in one sitting tbh.
After our mid-morning break we continued northwards. The vantage from the ridgeline beyond Cutthroat Pass is gorgeous and I tripped a few times looking out toward the east for too long. We also passed a few sections that would have been a little spicy in 1-2 feet of snow, further confirming our decision to skip northwards. Beyond Cutthroat, the dayhikers dropped off quickly and we carried on into the wide open country and crisp, cool air of the Pasayten.
As we hiked, Amanda and I discussed going back and doing the Glacier Peak wilderness, if conditions allowed. We agreed that, if they were adequate, we would go back and do it this year otherwise it would have to be 2024. We both agreed there was no way we weren’t going to go back and get it done at some point. We reached Methow Pass and the Methow River valley opened below us, an incredibly vast river valley that we now stood at the head of. We stopped for a bit to admire it before beginning the descent.
Through most of the midday we descended down along West Fork Methow River in the sturdy trees of the North Cascades before we reached Bush Creek in the late afternoon. We had not seen another soul since leaving Cutthroat pass and felt especially alone out in the vastness of the Pasayten. At Bush Creek we took a break and ate a late lunch then began the second big climb of the day. Shortly after restarting, we ran across the first of several large piles of bear scat. “I wonder if they are asleep yet?” Amanda said tentatively. “That’s a good question, guessing not because this looks pretty fresh.” The Pasayten is the only place Amanda and I have seen a Grizzly bear west of Montana. We had seen one in 2014, near Harts pass just 20 miles north of us, and so knew they were out here.
We carried on up the hill. I have decided that 3 PM to sunset is my least favorite time on the trail this time of year. The fading light is brutal on the psyche. I don’t know why - maybe it goes back to our early ancestors. It just feels like we should be hunkering down in preparation for darkness and hiking up to and into it is, at this point, just depressing. Up and up we climbed. The battle cry of pikas echoes all about us as the last rays of light disappeared behind the hulking masses of mountains. We climbed from Glacier to Grasshopper pass in the dark which was especially unnerving given the numerous loads of bear scat we had passed on our way up. We had complained earlier about our lack of bear sightings but I swear, this was not the place I wanted to run into one.
At Grasshopper pass we stopped briefly to rest. About half a mile off we spotted two little specks of light making their way up to the pass in the opposite direction. We started off and ran into them about 5 minutes later, briefly stopping to say hello. Neither group was in much mood to talk but we congratulated them on getting to the terminus and I thought I recognized one of them from somewhere in California. After this encounter we descended another mile to a small basin where FarOut had reported a spring was still running. We left the trail there and hiked about a hundred feet or so to an open campsite where we dropped our bags. Amanda got the tent going while I went to get some water, whipping my headlamp up at every rustle out in the darkness.
After getting set-up we ate dinner under a marvelous canopy of stars and tried to stay warm now that we weren’t walking. The mice were back out and we would occasionally catch them trying to chew through our food bags. At this point, we are very disciplined with food. They don’t miss any opportunity to get into something so we don’t give them any.
After admiring the stars for a good while we decided to get into the sleeping bag. It’s really starting to get cold and, when not under way, there isn’t much incentive to be outside the tent. Inside I wrote up some notes and Amanda read a little of her kindle but not too long after we had gotten inside we were already passed out.
