Day 148: Back at It

10/11/2023

Section: Milepost 2297.6 to 2317.3

Total Trail Miles: 2315.2

Distance: 21.1 Miles  

Moving Time: 09:44 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 3205 ft

Well, my fever broke last night - so that’s good. Doesn’t mean i’m feeling super great, but I also can’t stand lying around anymore so… for better or worse, we are getting the FACK OUTTA HERE! 

We got up and collected our things, making use of the sink one last time before our intrepid adventure began. Somehow, even though we had barely been in this room, we had still managed to spread things around, so getting them collected up was a bit of a chore. 

After we were all put together we headed back down to the Kracker Barrel, where we waited a few minutes for the lone employee to arrive in her beat-to-death Jeep Cherokee and open the shop. We stood under the shelter of the gas pumps knowing that we would have to eventually venture back out into the wet at some point. Inside, we ordered some coffee and some breakfast sandwiches. We also got in a little spat but I cannot remember why - what it probably boils down to is we were both very uninterested in going out into more days of heavy rain. By the time we had eaten our breakfast sandwiches though things were looking better, we were even able to jet off in a clear break of rain, thanking the nice woman covering the cash register at the gas stations as we went. Once outside we turned up the road and headed back to where the PCT crosses highway 12. At the intersection, we turned left and headed into the woods, the rain softly starting to fall again. 

The stage today heads due north from White Pass. As is usual coming out of a car pass, the trail rises steeply from the tarmac, passing Deer and Sand lake as it toils upwards. The PCT continues upwards for around 5 miles until it reaches a small pass on the western shoulder of Cramer Mountain, at 5500 feet. From here the path descends through a high basin of classic Cascade lakes, including Beusch, Pipe, Jess and Snow lakes, passing the last one at 10 miles in. From Snow Lake, the trail descends a vast ramp into the Bumping river valley, where it bottoms out at 4100’ and begins a final 3 mile, 1600’ climb up the shoulder of Crag Mountain, briefly passing into the Mt. Rainier wilderness and traces a North-South running ridge to its terminus on the southwest shoulder of an unnamed peak.

The mood was a mixed bag this morning. There is some excitement that we are back at it and progressing north but it’s raining and I'm still not feeling great. I was having a tough time keeping up with Amanda this morning as we crawled up from the pass and she could definitely notice. Looking at my fitness tracker, my heartbeat is elevated over what it should be for this kind of effort. Not sure if it’s the time off or if the mystery flu has still got me. Probably a bit of both.

On our way up, around 5200’, the rain turned to snow and was sticking on the ground. We began a slog through frozen slush that quickly soaked through the GoreTex lining of our shoes. As we rounded off the top of the climb, we were startled to see some hunters on horses coming down the trail. They waved to us in their rain slicks as we got off the trail to let the big animals come through and then continued on our way. 

We topped out and headed out into a low basin with many classic cascade lakes dotted throughout. I grew up in the Cascades, so I feel like I can say this. The Sierra presents its lakes like diamonds on a necklace, boldly showing them off for all to see. The Cascades, most of the time, hides them in an overgrowth of trees like it’s ashamed that it even has lakes. From the map, I knew we were passing through a high basin dotted with lots of little lakes or ponds but most of the time, I could hardly tell they were even there! We made our way slowly down the basin. I mean, really slowly. The trail was still besmirched with 7/11 slushie contents which made it difficult to move and I was not moving fast in any direction - up-hill, down-hill, didn’t matter. The trail is not a great way to recover from the flu.

We stopped halfway across the basin and ate some food. I don’t have much of an appetite but I made myself eat anyway. I’ve had too many close-calls with low blood sugar in places where it couldn’t be afforded to mess with that now. After lunch we got up and kept moving. The day was quiet as we crept through the southern Cascades. 

As we made our way down the ramp, the sky opened up and we could see clear blue for a long way. The descent became steep and we briefly got out of the snow as we descended down to the Bumping River. We stopped there to catch our breath and then started the climb on the other side. We fell into a slow, but steady rhythm as we clawed our way out of the river valley, crossing above Fish Lake and then Crag lake. As we climbed we got a beautiful vantage of the sun falling low to the west in the October sky. 

At dusk, we briefly crossed into the Mount Rainier Wilderness, but we were both too tired to care. We wound our way along a ridge and darkness fell around us but we pushed on. The discomfort with darkness has been ratcheted up after the Knife Edge. Something about the unknown terrain in front of you is just no longer comfortable. All these things are adding up as we push north in the early Fall and a general unease is really starting to rear its head.

At 21 miles Amanda and I decided to stop and started to look for a clear camp spot to stop for the night. Mercilessly, we stumbled upon a spot just off the trail that had been kept dry by 3 large evergreen trees which formed a canopy over the top of it. I had seen this spot on FarOut but had started to get very worried that it was going to be snow covered. Fortunately, we found it dry, without even a puddle formed at the base.

We threw down our bags, exhausted, and began our now well established duties. Amanda got the tent figured out while I boiled down snow to make water for dinner. The mood was pretty somber as we ate our hot meals and stared into the darkness. The rain had not come back, but there were very few dry spots to be had in our small circle of light. After dinner, I cleaned up and Amanda got into bed. I typed up some notes and quickly fell asleep, my body still desperately trying to fight the trail end of this flu.

Day 147: Sick In Bed

10/10/2023

Section: Milepost 2297.6 to 2297.6

Total Trail Miles: 2295.5 Miles

Distance: 0 Miles

Moving Time:

Elevation Gain:

Oh… I picked something up. It’s bad. I woke up in the middle of the night shivering in a room that was set to 74 degrees. Amanda said she felt like she was in bed with the sun. I’ve got a major fever, slight sore throat, screaming headache - all of it. One silver lining is my stomach is fine. It’s either the flu or… maybe COVID. No way to get a test up here and we definitely aren’t going anywhere.

I stayed in bed all day. Amanda did the same. She is feeling fine but there is literally nothing to do up here. All morning we watched the most absolute garbage tv. 90 day fiance was the worst - I think I actually felt myself getting sicker the longer I watched. Fortunately, I slept through most of the episodes and in the afternoon, because we are now well into October, the Harry Potter series started to come on. What an awful day. We can’t shake the feeling that Washington really has had it out for us. Our first 3 days were mired by an atmospheric river’s load of water, then a terrifying experience on the knife edge and now this, sick in bed, listening to more rain pound the parking lot outside.

In the evening, Amanda went over to the gas station convenience store - the Kracker Barrel - and got me some fried food which I enjoyed in the room. I still wasn’t feeling great but could at least tell I was coming out the other side. We enjoyed the Chamber of Secrets for a while before I passed out again, hoping that I would be well enough to start again the next day.

So… not many piuctures today. But this was the very depressing view from out the hotel window.

Day 140-146: Claire’s Wedding in Bend

10/3/2023 - 10/9/2023

Section: Milepost 2297.6 to 2297.6

Total Trail Miles: 2295.5 Miles

Distance: 0 Miles  

Moving Time: 

Elevation Gain:

The next week passed by in a blur. My parents had rented a beautiful house in Bend, Oregon where my sister, Claire, was getting married to my soon-to-be brother-in-law John. A large contingent of my dad’s extended family came out and stayed at the house and got to meet JOhn as well as Amanda, whom they had never met before either. Our days were spent sleeping in as much as we could and preparing for the big event. I played some golf with my Dad, John and Claire and we went out a few times to enjoy the incredible micro-brew and nightlife scene in Bend. We thought we would get a chance to get some mountain biking in and had asked my parents to bring our bikes over from where they were stored in Corvallis, but the week whirled by so fast that there wasn’t any time.

The much awaited ceremony took place on October 7th at Todd Lake, 6 miles from Elk Lake where we had stopped on day 73 to meet Amanda’s parents. It was a beautiful ceremony which was graced with much better weather than we had experienced in the early days of October. Standing in the shadow of Broken Top mountain we all witnessed Claire and John say their vows and then proceeded to party late into the evening!

We stuck around most of the day after to get ourselves together and recover, but headed out in the afternoon after a lengthy string of goodbyes. We headed for Kennewick, where Amanda’s parents were going to host us and hold on to Toothless, our Transit Van, for the remainder of the hike. We got into Kennewick later that night and stayed up into the evening talking with the parents. 

On the 9th of October we woke and got our things together. We ran some errands in the Tri-cities, including a stop at REI to replenish fuel and a few other odds and ends. 

In the afternoon, we loaded up the Porter’s beastly 90’s F-350 and headed west. It was about halfway through this trip that I started to feel… off. In the beginning, it wasn’t anything too noticeable but by the time we began the climb up into White Pass, I was starting to feel real foul.

We arrived in White Pass in the early evening. It was chilly and raining. Given my deteriorating condition and the general shittyness of the evening, Amanda and I scrapped plans to sleep on the ground and decided to stay in the White Pass Village Inn. Amanda’s parents got the dogs out of the car and ran them around the parking lot while I went in to get a night in a room. Nothing was going on at White Pass. It’s not much more than the ski resort, which was dead, a lonely gas station and a very sad, off-season hotel. They certainly charged like it was in-season. After dropping almost 200 dollars for a little suite on the east end of the block, we unloaded our things into the hotel room. The Porters offered to take us back to the Tri-cities but we decided to stay. I think we are starting to get a little worried about taking the easy path out and finishing Washington later. We set out to finish this but we are getting to the end of our physical fortitude. It’s starting to get dark and the rain has really crushed us. We both felt like, if we went back to the east side now, we might not restart this season, so we decided to stay on this crappy little pass and see what comes tomorrow.

After we got our things settled and said goodbye to the Porters I pretty much got in bed and passed out, listening to the rain pour down outside. “Well, that was fun while it lasted,” I said to Amanda “hopefully this is something I can get over quickly.” “Just get some rest,” she said, “ we’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.”

Day 139: White Pass Exit

10/2/2023

Section: Milepost 2282.6 to 2297.6

Total Trail Miles: 2295.5 Miles

Distance: 15.6 Miles  

Moving Time: 06:24 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 2392 ft

I slept well last night. Turns out terror takes a lot out of a person so when my brain finally got somewhere it felt safe it was ready to zone out! We woke in the cold and took some time once we finally stepped out of the tent in all our puffy warmth to look back up at the knife edge in the early morning. It didn’t look any different, but some time to distance ourselves seemed to make it look a little less…intimidating, or maybe it’s just that things are a lot less scary after a good night’s rest.

I made us coffee and tea while Amanda got things packed up in the tent. That’s usually the way it goes since I'm usually the first out. After coffee and a breakfast puck, we got the last few things organized away in our packs and did our warm-ups. Finally, with one last look up at the Knife Edge, and promises that we would come back and do it in more optimal conditions to get a more “normal” experience on it, we headed off north.

Today’s stage is a shorter one. We are just a few miles from the boundary to the White Pass Ski resort and only about 15 miles from the pass. The day starts with a descent, heading due east for almost 2 miles, before turning north and continuing downhill. The descent bottoms out at Tieton pass and stays low for another mile before beginning a 3-mile climb to just over 6500’ at Shoe Lake and Hogback Mountain. Hogback Mountain marks the farthest southern boundary of White Pass Ski resort and, from here, the trail makes a steady, 6-mile descent to White Pass, skirting the eastern boundary of the White Pass Ski Resort. The day ends just north of White Pass at Leech Lake and the White Pass campground.

We walked quickly today. We were just 15 miles from a full week off and we had been running ourselves ragged so were excited about the opportunity for a break. I was also mildly concerned because we had another high section to go over, though the topographical maps suggested that there would be almost no exposure but… after last night, any ridges over 6000’ were a little worrisome. We sped down to Tieton Pass and quickly began our ascent after meandering through the low section for a bit. We climbed, going past a small pond. The day was partly cloudy and we occasionally got some sun breaks and vantages. 

The climb was a bit heavy handed but consistent and we made good time. Towards the top, we broke out of the treeline, into jumbled lava rock and I quickly looked up the trail to see if we would have any more snow traverses but snow had not accumulated here above 6000’ and we were on clean trail most of the time. We cleared two smaller passes near Hogback Mountain, which I think is like the 10th mountain of that same name that I have come across in my life, and the ski resort started to come into view shortly after that. Just beyond, we actually crossed over a ski run and walked nearly under the Basin Quad, rain beginning to fall on us intermittently. 90 minutes or so of descent brought us down close enough to the pass that we could catch the sound of an occasional truck on its way to the summit. Soon after we were down to a trailhead parking lot. We smiled as we got down and then crossed over the highway, starting to look for our beloved black van. We reached White Pass Campground but did not find the van in any of the obvious places. We called Josh and he told us that they had parked Toothless in an overnight spot because they were worried about it getting towed in the day area. We went further into the campground and quickly found it sitting comfortably in a camping spot waiting for us. Excitedly, we punched in the door code and unlocked it, quickly finding the keys. Then we engaged in that happiest of activities at the end of a day of hiking - kicking off the shoes - and tossed them in the back along with our backpacks. 

After taking a few minutes to relax and inspect some of the beautifully crafted stick figure drawings Josh had left taped to the underside of our cabinets, we got in the front seats and headed out. We stopped briefly at the gas station, called the Kracker Barrel, and filled up on snacks and gas before continuing to progress west on Highway 12. We turned south at I-5 and briefly stopped at an Oregon favorite, Burgerville, for a late lunch before continuing on South. 

About 4 hours of driving brought us over to Bend, where my sister was getting married. We had a room in a large place my parents were renting near the wedding venue and everyone was excited to see us when we got there. We unloaded our things and got a chance to wash everything that was really starting to stink, despite getting a chance to dry out in Trout Lake. We had a great time with the fam before finally turning in, looking forward to a fun filled week!

Day 138: The Knife Edge

10/1/2023

Section: Milepost 2254.3 to 2280.5

Total Trail Miles: 2280.5 Miles

Distance: 24.2 Miles  

Moving Time: 10:35 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 5256 ft

Well… that was, a day. I can confidently say we rang in the spooky month in style. Damn.

Things started as they had just about every other day on the trail. We woke in the morning. It’s really starting to cool down here. We are lower in elevation but a lot farther north now in Washington, so we donned a few layers this morning before heading out. I had my coffee and made Amanda tea and we had a good breakfast. We are in this weird phase where we wouldn’t be in a super big rush in the morning except that it’s cold so that gets us moving because it’s really the only way to warm-up. Kinda interesting because, if you think about it, most of our existence on this planet has probably consisted of cold mornings. Humans, for hundreds of thousands of years, have probably opened their eyes in the morning and thought something along the same lines I now think every morning - “don’t make me get out of this warm sleeping bag.Don’t make me leave this comfort!” Once out though, the next thing your body immediately wants to do is start moving, because once you start moving, you start warming up. 

We were underway around 7:45 am. Heading northeast. The stage today leaves the little meadow we camped at last night and runs northeast, overcoming two 500’ ramps in just under 6 miles while passing through a series of small ponds and into the Goat Rocks Wilderness. This early climb tops out at around 5700’ before descending again into another set of ponds and continuing on through a gently sloping basin - likely another old lava field or caldera. At 10.5 miles in, the PCT intersects with the Walput Lake Trail and begins the first half of a large ascent that defines the second half of the stage. The trail climbs the west side of a north-south running  ridge, leveling out just above 5800’ before circumventing the head of the Walput Creek cirque and passing by Sheep lake, which sits on a promontory off of Nannie Ridge. Here the trail begins to break out of the tree line as it makes a turn back north and continues up the ridge, crossing over an unnamed pass and briefly entering the Yakima Indian Reservation before crossing back into the Goat Rocks Wilderness at Cispus Pass. The stage then circumvents the head of a larger cirque, The Cispus River Cirque, before turning north again and committing to the alpine, climbing further to over 7000 feet on the northwest side of Old Snowy Mountain where the PCT offers amazing views of Mt. Rainier. Here, the stage casts hikers out onto what is arguably the most airy section of the entire trail - the Knife Edge. This 3 mile section seesaws the edge of a stark ridge between Old Snowy Mountain and Elk Pass before dropping off the north side and ending at the source of the Clear Fork of the Cowlitz River. 

The early part of today passed without a whole lot of incident. We hiked through lush, green forests for most of the day without seeing many people. This section of the PCT is riddled with side trails due to its proximity with White Pass but we were largely able to avoid getting confused. About mid-morning we ran into a group of guys out on an early fall backpacking trip. We talked to them for a while and they gave us some Scotch. At around 4 pm, we hit Cispus pass and got some gorgeous views of the backside of the Goat Rocks. We stopped for a snack and to take some photos. The atmospheric river had clearly left some snow behind but, from this angle, it looked like most of it was up high. We carried on.

At around mile 19 we passed a turn-off for Snowgrass Trail. As we went by it we noted a large arrow etched into the trail pointing to the side trail. I took a look at my map app to make sure we continued on. It appeared that this trail could be used as a bypass for the Knife Edge, which I knew was up ahead of us, but it’s not a convenient alternative as it drops hikers out on White Pass approximatly 20 miles from where the PCT intersects it. Amanda and I figured it was a sign for someone who wanted to let their part know they had taken it and, for all we know, that’s what it could have been for. At about 1 hour before nightfall, we broke solidly into the alpine and hit snow. When I look back on the last 4 hours of the day and the tsunami of discomfort that surged in those hours, this is where it began. We knew that a lot of water had fallen on this section of the trail over the last 4 days but it had also been fairly warm. Snow was just not something that we had contented with in over 3 months so it wasn’t on our radar but as the trail disappeared below my feet and the bootpack did as well shortly after, a situation started to develop. We stopped on the northwest side of Old Snowy Mountain and admired the setting sun to the west, illuminating Mt. Rainier in glorious light, intermittently obscured by a heavy fog welling up out of the Upper Lake Creek valley, and then continued on.

It’s here that we probably should have stopped. We were 17 miles from the van and we could have probably made it there the next day. Removing absolute darkness from the equation might have made what came next a little more tolerable but this is the nature of the PCT - you hike until you can’t anymore and that’s the way we do it. I had picked a spot on the other side of the Knife Edge and that’s what we were shooting for. We stepped off of the little promontory and onto the northern slope of Old Snowy Mountain. The initial two-hundred yards weren’t that bad but then we ran into the first exposed section. The slope here was about 34-45 degrees as we traversed and we were now walking with headlamps. Below us was nothing but steep snow for a thousand feet. We crossed the 20 yard section, a little uncomfortable, and then continued on. This is how we got ourselves into what I call the Lobster Trap. I try to avoid these situations, but they are not altogether unfamiliar to Amanda or me. Basically, once you’ve gotten past a few sketchy sections on a given objective, you are looking at two options - go back and redo some spots you know are really bad or carry on and hope what’s ahead will be better. In this case, what was ahead was not better. 

Amanda and I entered into what I can only describe as one of the scariest sections of the trail, and potentially our entire outdoor experience. Section after section of highly exposed, very steep traverses all covered in 12-18 inches of unconsolidated snow. Amanda and I aren’t newbies at this. We are both experienced mountaineers and have no small amount of time on steep snow. The difference, in this case, was that we were totally unprepared. Even just an ice axe would have been a huge improvement on this section but we had had no reason to carry one. As it was, we inched through sections, stomping fresh tracks in trail runners and plunged our poles as deep as they would go in sad impressions of a self belay. At points, I was thankful for the darkness because I honestly didn’t want to know what was below. Amy Lu had described the Knife Edge as unnerving in the daylight and in dry conditions and I knew there was very bad runout through vast lengths of this section - places that an unarrested fall would send us over a cliff. 

As we went on, the most unnerving part became large vertical ridges of especially steep snow that had to be climbed around. Mostly these were sketchy because, due to the snow conditions, it was difficult to tell if they would hold once out on them and there was really no telling if a dismount on the other side was possible, or even what was on the other side. Fortunately, there were only about 3-4 of these situations but they contributed to an overall unease about what was coming next as we wound through very exposed space on the Knife Edge. I constantly worried about getting cliffed out to a point that going back was the only option. Even the moon was creepy. On an ordinary night, the large, orange harvest moon that rose above us would have been wonderful to look at but, under the circumstances, it seemed more like a bad omen. Out in the distance I could see little specks of light in the vast, dark landscape - likely other hikers out enjoying their campsites in the evening. I thought about what one of them would think, looking up on this pronounced ridge and seeing two tiny headlamps slowly making their way across it in the darkness and in that moment I felt incredibly small - just a spot of light in the black. 

4 hours of terror brought us to Elk Pass, where the Coyote Trail ran off to the northwest and, seemingly, where many sane day trippers had been able to get to before saying “no way” to the Knife Edge. From here, the boot pack was a comfort, though there were still some sketchy sections, but we were able to wind our way back down and eventually reach my target camp on the far north side of the Knife Edge, just above the treeline. 

We reached camp around 10 pm, nerves absolutely fried and set up in a kind of numb silence. As the adrenaline left our system we caught each other looking back up at the Knife Edge, in clear view from our campsite, and let out a collective sigh of relief before starting to comment on our harrowing adventure. We ate, talking about each little spot that had terrified us, and how it would have been so much better even with just an ice axe, or maybe in the daylight or with just a little less snow. Ultimately, we agreed that it was the sketchiest thing we had done on the PCT. We decided to turn in and get some much needed rest. I set my GoPro up on a timer to take a night shot at around 3 AM before getting in the tent and putting together a report for FarOut. There shouldn’t be too many people behind us but I would like to save them from the terror if possible. It reads,

Be Aware - Between 9/26 and 9/28 a large atmospheric river weather pattern delivered appreciable precipitation to much of the Washington Cascades, which fell as snow above 6500 feet. This weather pattern left much of the Knife Edge traverse covered in 6-18 inches of snow especially on northern facing aspects. This section is now far more technically challenging and should be considered a mountaineering objective. An ice axe and spikes are strongly suggested. There are at least 3-4 fall zones on steep aspects where failure to arrest quickly would be fatal. The most challenging section is at the beginning NOBO while traversing under the northern facing aspect of Old Snowy mountain. Evaluate this 100 yard section first and, if you feel you are able to cross safely, then other sections with similar exposure should be passable. This is a committed and slow section under current conditions with limited spots to bail. We did this in the dark so I was unable to evaluate the Coyote Trail as a potential bail out point but it may be possible there, though the boot pack becomes much more defined at this point which helps complete the traverse. These conditions will likely last another week, at least, assuming no fresh snow falls in the interim.

-Sheets and Riverdancer

Hoping that it would get out in time to prevent anyone leaving Trout Lake from attempting the ridge, I passed out, finally letting my mind release the tension it had been holding since sunset.

Day 137: Snowy Adams

9/30/2023

Section: Milepost 2231.6 to 2256.4

Total Trail Miles: 2256.4 Miles

Distance: 25.5 Miles  

Moving Time: 09:44 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 3914 ft

Today, I committed a great sin… One that I paid for well into the day. I ate a donut that didn’t belong to me. It belonged to Amanda. We had gotten breakfast for free at the hotel which was… continental. At the end of the bar had been an assortment of donuts and in our current, physical state these round repositories of fat are the absolute SHIT, so we took a few. After we got back to the room, and while we were packing up, I noticed one donut just hanging out. It didn’t seem to really have a future and I was worried about it ending up in a trash bin. I should have known better. I ate it and it was only as we were getting the last few items, finally dry btw, into our backpacks that Amanda noticed her “for later donut” gone and, damn, was she PISSED!! It’s never wise to take another person’s food, but it’s even less wise to take that person’s food when they have zero fat reserves left and have to walk 25 miles that same day. So, needless to say, the morning didn’t start out on great terms.

The night before, we had arranged a trail angel to get us back to the trail head since we now had service in the vast town of Trout Lake. Dennis showed up around 8 am and we, like many times before, got into a complete strangers car. Dennis was great, but no mushrooms and no great conspiracy theories were shared on the way up. He did tell us an interesting story about a bunch of guys he had picked up during the atmospheric river who he had gone all the way out to Potatoe Hill to collect. He said it had taken him 90 minutes just to get out there and they were in sorry shape when he showed up.  As we left the one lane town behind, I thought about how many times I had been down the central road of Trout Lake on my way up to Adams. I think I’ve climbed it around 6 times now in my life - great mountain and Trout Lake is a fantastic little town. One of the last good stops on the PCT. Dennis dropped us off at 8:30, refusing our bid to give him a few dollars for his troubles, as usual. We did our warm-ups as his Subaru sped away and started off on the day ten minutes later.

The PCT begins, today, at the relative low point that we ended on the day before, NFSR 23, before  heading straight for Mt. Adams, climbing steeply up it’s western flanks. The climb encompasses most of the first half of the stage, gaining a little over 2000 feet in around eight miles. At Horseshoe meadow, the trail makes a strange “U” maneuver and traverses north along the western shoulder of Mt. Adams, slowly turning northeast as it follows topographical lines around the mountain, maintaining around 6000 feet. At the Killen Creek Trail junction, the stage begins a long descent, crossing the East Fork of Adams Creek and passing a few small lakes - namely Killen Creek Ponds as well as Batty, Butterfly and Pocket Lakes. The PCT continues to descend until approximately mile 20 where it crosses out of the Mt. Adams Wilderness and back into the Gifford Pinchot National Forest. The path makes a beeline for Potato Hill, an old and very pronounced cinder cone, breaking northwest from there. The day ends 3 miles beyond that, just after crossing Midway creek, at a lovely camping spot on the edge of a large meadow. 

After our warm-ups we began our climb of the day. 2000 feet up to the lower slopes of Mt. Adams. The morning was crisp and cool and we hiked in a few layers to begin with. Summer was officially over as of 8 days ago, just before we came out at Kearsarge, and the change in light was really starting to show. What it did make for was some beautiful colors though. As we rose up the slopes of mount Adams, relishing the heavenly clear skies, we were surrounded by shrubs sporting fiery reds and yellows in sporadic burned sections in the early morning light. 

Near the top of the climb, we stopped to have lunch and take in the mighty mountain. I reflected on all the times I had been on top and what a friendly peak it is. A woman passed us on a day hike and we waved and said hi. As we were finishing up I noticed we had stopped right underneath a widow maker and hastened to pack up and continue on. 

At the East Fork of Adams Creek, we helped a few day hikers find the trail on the other side before beginning the big descent of the day down towards Potato Hill. The burnt sections we had walked through periodically throughout the morning gave way to younger forest sections as we traveled northwards. We passed by the great Potato Hill, which is a ridiculous name, and turned northwest. Eventually the evening, which was coming earlier and earlier every day, came and we hiked on into darkness but, this time, no rain. We eventually came to the spot I had picked out on FarOut - a gorgeous meadow-side site with some trees under which we pitched our tent. The stars were perfect above us as Amanda set up the new Big Agness and I went back to Midway creek to collect water. We made a lovely dinner and stayed out a bit to take in all the tiny dots above us. Afterwards we slunk down in our dry clothes, into our dry sleeping bags, in our dry tent and quickly fell asleep to the quiet peace of the forest - all thoughts of donut related crimes forgotten to the past.

Day 136: Trout Lake

9/29/2023

Section: Milepost 2217.5 to 2231.6

Total Trail Miles: 2229.5 Miles

Distance: 4.1 Miles  

Moving Time: 05:19 Hrs 

Elevation Gain: 1946 ft

I woke up on the ground again this morning. Sleeping pad is really done - no amount of patching is getting me more than a week now. The good news was that there was no rain this morning. The atmospheric river had passed over us and, while the sky was still gray, things were looking up! We woke and took stock in our surroundings, which is common on mornings after we crash land in the dark. It’s nice to see where we actually ended up from more than the outer rim of a headlamp beam. The Sawtooth Trailhead is indeed just a wide open gravel lot with a few picnic tables in the middle and some outlaw fire pits set around. This part of Washington has a surprising number of little pockets of open country and we are currently in one. We should have an epic view of Adam’s right now but, unfortunately, she is shrouded in clouds this morning.

In the absence of rain, we were able to pack things up a little more carefully and I was able to take a look at some weird red blisters that are forming on my heel. They don’t hurt but I think they are a product of walking continuously in wet socks. The picnic tables are a blessing for us because you can organize and eat up off the ground - even if the benches are still soaked. Plus it’s a nice flat spot to set up one’s stove. After coffee and, for me, a bland protein puck, we completed our warm-ups and shouldered our bags before heading off down the trail. 

The path today is relatively flat, winding northeast through the Gifford Pinchot National forest on what are likely old lava beds. From Sawtooth Trailhead the PCT passes between East and West Twin Butte before turning due east at 3.5 miles in and crossing NFSR 8851 at Mosquito TH. The trail then passes near Steamboat lake where it begins a 500 foot descent into the Trout Lake Creek drainage from which it promptly reascends 500 ft back to a ridge just west of Eckhart Point. It continues on this ridge, due north, all the way to NFSR 23 where the stage ends at 3900 ft. 

Today, again, was pretty uneventful from a trail perspective. I do need to walk back what I said a few posts ago about there not being many crossroads in Washington. Here, in this early section, the trail is littered with them. None of them would be super fun to get into on a car, but it also would not be impossible. We were back in our summer attire, the rain gear was back in the backpack, though not too far in that we couldn't readily get to it, but the rain never came and we passed through the open country quickly without seeing a single soul. 

Near the FR88 PCT Trailhead, we found a laminated sign providing Trout Lake Trail Angel information and I took a picture of it. We didn’t really have anything in the way of cell service here but if we got some we would make use of it. Towards the middle of the day we had decided that we were not going to try and make it to Chinook Pass. As I said earlier, and am now clarifying, beyond White Pass, there are limited outs. When we left Independence a few days ago, we had considered how far we wanted to get into Washington before coming out for my sister's wedding. Of the 3 options Snoqualmie was the ludicrous option, Chinook Pass was the optimistic option and White Pass was the safe option. If we hadn’t been swimming the PCT over the last 3 days we likely would have been okay to push on to Chinook and have Josh and Maddy drop the van there. As it was though, we were tired, wet and bedraggled and a night in Trout Lake to dry everything out was looking better and better with every step we took. Chinook and White pass aren’t really that far apart - only about 28 miles, but dropping an extra day meant that we could come out and have an afternoon in Trout Lake, which we would need to get everything dry again, and then we could take the remaining three days to finish out with reasonable mileage per day. So that became the plan.

We walked on and in a few miles arrived at NFSR 23. This was the last road back into Trout Lake and we had arrived at 2 pm so we felt confident that, even on this desolate backroad, we would likely be able to pick-up a hitch. We still had no cell service so there was no way to get a hold of a trail angel out here. A few cars went by and we stuck our thumb out in an attempt to get a ride but they whizzed by without looking back. Eventually, though, a big dodge truck showed some brake lights and pulled over. It had the look of a ranch truck and we suspected hunters out here scoping for elk season but, upon depositing our backpacks in the bed of the truck, we instead found buckets full of mushrooms. We got in the back and a middle aged guy introduced himself as Ted. Ted was from Joseph, Oregon - a little town in the northeastern mountains of the state - and he was out here hunting King Boletes. He had a few patches that he called “his” out here and he spoke to us of them using very vague language as if to ensure we wouldn't find them. I guess mushroom pickers are very hush-hush about their spots. We drove for some time in light conversation but at one point, Ted asked a very funny question as we drove near a spot where the base of Mt. Adams was briefly visible. His question? “Ya’ll ever see the lights out here?”

At the beginning of our senior year at Washington State University, I led a group of about eight people to the summit of Mt. Adams. It was syllabus week and we were looking for something fun to do, so a hodgepodge group of us including Amanda, myself, Amanda’s little brother Ray, Josh (who’s tent we borrowed in the Sierra), my random upstair’s neighbor and Amanda’s roommate (+ boyfriend) took the first weekend back our senior year and climbed the ‘ol flat-topped mountain. The southern spur route is very straightforward. It’s hardly a glacier climb and so it was a perfect weekend objective for eight very underprepared college kids. Plus, I'd done it about 4 times before and was familiar with the route. In any case, a warm late-August evening in 2009 saw a group of Wazzu students pitching tents at a popular flat spot called Lunch Counter around 9000 feet on the shoulder of Mt. Adams. And it was later that evening, while we were passing around a fifth of Fireball whiskey that we did, indeed, see the lights. As we looked down off the western side of the mountain all of us distinctly remember seeing what can only be described as a lazer style rave taking place almost exactly where the PCT runs next to the mountain, about 4000 feet below. I remember that none of us could really decide what was going on as the thin beam of lights along the entire color spectrum lit up the trees below the mountain. 

So when Ted asked us, fourteen years later - “ya’ll seen the lights?” I immediately responded “Wait, yea - I have seen the lights!” “Yep,” he responded, “hollow earth dude.” “What?” Amanda and I responded practically in unison. At this point, Ted went into a long description, which he was careful to clarify that he did not personally believe in, of a fringe conspiracy theory that our planet is an alien space station and that Mt. Adams is one of the port entries for that space station. The lights come on when a ship needs to go into or out of the station. So… it all made sense. We had a good laugh about it anyway, but the fact remained - I have seen the fucking lights, so what are they?

We didn’t get to the bottom of it on the ride into Trout Lake though. Ted dropped us off at the Trout Lake Grocery store - a popular resupply depot for PCTrs that stop there. Again, I tried to give him a couple dollars but he just refused. Amanda and I picked up a few goodies at the store, deciding to leave our full resupply for the next morning. We talked to the lovely owners for a while and a regular that came in during our conversation offered to take us to our next destination - the Trout Lake Valley Inn - which we accepted. 

We rolled down the small road at the south end of Trout Lake in a mid-90’s F-350 pick-up and were soon at the hotel. We got out and thanked the kind old guy for the ride before checking in. After we got to our room, we set about laying out all our wet gear. It smelled awful, but there were a whole lot of good places to clip things up and I took the copper spur to the nice little lawn outside to dry-out. It was soaked but thankfully the sun was out and about and was sure to give our new mobile home the heating it needed. Afterwards, Amanda and I got the warm-up we desperately needed, as well, in the hotel’s hot tub. 

After everything was warmed up and fairly dried out, Amanda and I decided to head for the Trout Lake Hall where a local band was going to be performing that evening. We borrowed the hotel’s bikes and rode down to the hall. We were not disappointed to find a beautifully renovated, grange style building hosting a nice stage and bar. We spent all evening there listening to a band that, I think, was called Gizzard Shits or something like that. Good band, amazing food and great boos. Afterwards, we carefully rode back to the hotel and, with nothing left in us after 4 days of walking in the rain, quickly drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Day 135: Cloud Walkers

9/28/2023

Section: Milepost 2170 to 2193.1 

Total Trail Miles: 2215.4 Miles

Distance: 25.7 Miles  

Moving Time: 09:45 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 3474 ft

This one’s gunna be short - it was just all around shitty. We are over 4 months in and all our fat reserves are gone. This isn’t our first long stretch through the rain but we are hitting a level of fatigue now that isn’t jiving super well with the downpour we now find ourselves in.

We found ourselves in similar conditions this morning as we went to bed in the night before - rain. We got up and didn’t even bother with a window to pack-up in. It’s wouldn’t have really helped anyway. My socks are officially soaked now - no helping it anymore so i got to start the day in damp socks along with Amanda. By the time we got things packed and the trail under foot it was 8:30 am. 

The path today heads almost entirely north, which is always nice. It starts by completing the climb we had initially tried to finish the day before, cresting out at near the summit of Big Huckleberry Mountain before descending a thousand feet btween miles 1 and 4. The trail runs along an old lava bed near the low point of the day, eventually crossing NFSR 60 at Crest Horse Camp. Here the path climbs 1500 feet in five miles, weaving between old lava domes and crossing into the Indian Heaven Wilderness on its way over 4000 feet. At 12 miles in the trail passes Basin Lakes to the west and undulates up and down for the next 8 miles passing by Gifford peak and the banks of Blue Lake. The PCT then circumvents East Crater on the west side and passes through a patch of sporadic, small lakes before crossing under the watchful eye of Bird Mountain. The last 3 miles are a descent to Sawtooth Trailhead where the day ends.

We hiked in a cloud all day. Occasionally, we could see across a valley or up onto the upper slopes of a nearby mountain but in the end, the day was just mostly gray. One awesome note though was that, when we passed by Bird Mountain towards the end of the day, there were indeed birbs everywhere! 

Like yesterday we hiked into the dark. The rain and the dark are a one-two punch so by the time we reached Sawtooth Trailhead in the midst of an especially dense downpour we decided to call it. The good news is that we had already gathered some water at around sundown so we could stop wherever we decided to. The wide open lot made for plenty of space to set up the tent which I pulled, soaking wet, out of the depths of my backpack and got set-up as quickly as possible. With water, we were able to make a warm meal at least which was nice in the depths of a cold and damp night. Afterwards we cleaned up quickly and got back into our dry sleeping bags which, mercifully, continued to stay dry. Our tent was a semi-dry bastion in a dark and damp world as we slipped into darkness. 

Day 134: Surfing the Atmospheric River

9/27/2023

Section: Milepost 2170 to 2193.1

Total Trail Miles: 2191 Mils

Distance: 24.2 Miles  

Moving Time: 09:38 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 5469 ft

We woke to the steady pitter-patter of rain which is both comforting and unsettling at the same time. No massive puddles formed in the bottom of the tent this time and we rejoiced in having a very good, very light and very nice tent over our heads once again. No offense Josh and Maddy - loved the Kelty, but those skylights… We delayed our departure to see if we could get a clean window to pack everything up. We pseudo-got one and took it.

Everything is soaked. There’s only so much modern gear can do when the humidity is approaching 90% and the rain just won’t stop. The brand new Gore tex Altras kept my feet dry which is a miracle - there isn’t much I hate more than putting my feet in wet, cold socks to start the day. Amanda’s Topo’s have a small amount of mesh at the top so, despite also being Gore tex, she wasn’t so lucky. 

We got our soaked things put away. Another thing I hate - rolling up a dripping tent so it can sit soaked in the bottom of my backpack all day. I carefully packed my sleeping bag into the new dry-bag I got for my sleeping bag. Good ‘ol Sea to Summit! Amanda goes with the trash bag method now which works well. As always - showing off her fiscal aptitude. Once everything was put away and all our damp stuff was back on us, the only thing left to do was warm it back up.

The stage today picks up from the depression we stopped in last night in the North Fork Snag Creek drainage and immediately starts climbing up the drainage, breaking off into a tributary drainage about ¾’s of a mile in. About a mile on the stage passes into the Gifford-Pinchot National Forest, a forest I spent quite a bit of time growing-up. The trail climbs for about 3 miles until it gains an east-west ridge running between Mowich Butte and Sedum Point. At Sedum Point the trail turns back north and crosses Lookout Mountain Road, after which it descends 2000 feet to a low, old caldera basin with Bunker Hill sticking out of the middle. At 11.5 miles in, the trail crosses over Szydlo Road and then Wind River Road in quick succession and pushes on through the Warren Gap. From this point, the stage ends the day with a 2600 foot, eight mile climb past Gobblers Knob to a high promontory on the west shoulder of Big Huckleberry Mountain.

Once we were up and running it was pretty much an all day slog through the rain with limited views. Not a whole lot to say beyond that. There was no one on the trail today. Shouldn’t be surprised there - some of the PCTrs will actually just not hike on days like these to avoid getting soaked but we are also at the end of the pack so that might have more to it. At one point, Amanda found a late season huckleberry and immediately spit it out. Way overripe. We are back into that strange Cascade landscape that is predominantly volcanic. Lots of low flat spaces which I think were likely calderas at one point with big, rounded ridgelines. Even here it is pretty different to northern Washington where you have more Sierra-ish like sharp ridges. It rained all day… I mean, all day - never really stopped. It was devastating. The backpack covers, for some reason, did not get the same level of waterproofing as our jackets because our backpacks are soaked through. Water is running out of the bottoms of each… thank god everything inside is waterproof. 

Eventually, the sun set as we made our final assault up to the shoulder of Big Huckleberry Mountain. I had planned to get to a campground that I had picked out down the trail another couple of miles but we were both miserable and Amanda said she didn’t care that we didn’t have water, we were stopping. Bit of an irony there, given that we were surrounded by water. We crash-landed in a clear spot next to the trail under some small trees and hastily packed up our things. We took alternating bites off of a block of cheese for dinner before I sprinted out into the dark to jettison the food bags in the lower branches of a nearby tree. We relished the warmth of our sleeping bags which, through persistent diligence, we had kept wonderfully dry and passed out listening to the buckets of rain fall all around us hoping that it would let up some the next day. 

Day 133: NOBO…again

9/26/2023

Section: Milepost 2149.6 to 2170

Total Trail Miles: 2167.9 Miles

Distance: 20.6 Miles  

Moving Time: 08:41 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 4738 ft

Well, well, well - back at it again. Today marks a shift in so many things. Our direction is different, headed north again, for the first time in 78 days. Our location is different, we are starting back up 1360 miles north of where we left off. And our altitude is much, much different - from around 10K feet to basically sea level on the Columbia. One thing is the same though - the all-powerful line we have dedicated ourselves to this summer will be back under our feet, and now we can say that we have touched every part of it going back almost 2150 miles to the Mexican border!

We continued the rash of early mornings with another 5 am wake-up call. Cascade locks is an hour or so from Portland and we wanted to try to get an early start on the trail. We find ourselves in an interesting situation with this oncoming stage. Washington is unique in that, unlike Oregon and California, there are very few points to jump out on. The options are basically White Pass, Chinook Pass, Snoqualmie Pass, Stevens Pass and North Cascades pass. Oh, and Stehekin. That may seem like a lot but in 450 miles, it’s actually not much. The first section - from Cascade Locks to White pass, where our friends Josh and Maddy are dropping our van for us, is almost 150 miles. My youngest sister, Claire, is getting married in Bend next week and we are taking it off to head down for the wedding. So, all said, we have 7 days to do 150 miles which is 21 miles a day - totally achievable in good conditions but we are losing light fast now and the next 4 days call for heavy rain so… could be interesting. 

Katie was kind enough to make a side-trip to quench my basic bitch desire for a pumpkin spiced latte this morning. Don’t judge me. After hitting a local Starbucks we headed east on I-80 out of Portland, quickly passing Troutdale and soon arriving at Cascade Locks. We arrived around 7 am and said our goodbyes. We would be seeing Katie and the rest of the Waldo-Curry clan in 7 days so this wasn’t a big farewell. It was pouring when we got out of the car and we did our best to stay dry. What a welcome from the PNW… Thirst, the coffee shop we had gotten breakfast burritos at when we came here to head south last time, was closed on Tuesdays. Just Tuesdays… which was today… so, instead of a nice, warm coffee shop, we made due with the insides of a local grocery store nearby. We needed another bottle of Butane. It was one of the things I had forgotten to ask Katie to get so we needed one before we left. The shop did not have any butane, which was a surprise being so far into the cascades and with a lot of popular backpacking spots around. We went outside to contemplate our situation. It was pouring, the rain coming down in thick sheets. As I was about to call Katie back a woman came by and noticed we were PCT hikers. “How are you guys doing?” she said - pointing out at the rain. We gave her our sob story about the butane and she said she could run us across the river to the town of Stevenson, Wa where we could probably find our butane. We thanked her and piled into her early 2000’s Suburban and she rocketed across the Columbia. 

Our savior’s name was Sarah and she took us to 4 stores in Stevenson before we were able to find the butane we needed to support our march north. She returned us to Oregon about an hour after leaving and we decided to get breakfast before starting since, you know, we were already delayed. We thanked Sarah, said goodbye and went into the Bridgeside cafe where we had a “meh” breakfast and some coffee. The view was great though, even through the heavy rain. At just before 10 we decided we really couldn’t delay anymore and got under our packs before heading out into the tempest. So much for an early start. 

The path today starts in Cascade Locks before heading north across the Columbia on what is another iconic landmark of the PCT - the Bridge of the Gods. The Columbia is just a bit above sea level so the start of the stage is at just over 100 ft, a stark contrast to the Sierra. From the end of the bridge, the PCT runs parallel to hwy 14 and doddles around the 200 ft elevation mark for some time, neither gaining or losing elevation in appreciable amounts. At 2 miles, the route turns away from the highway and bends north. It winds its way through low hills and open space before climbing in earnest at mile marker 6, just after crossing Two Chiefs ORV trail. The path passes by Sacagawea and Papoose Rocks near mile 7 and continues to climb along Cedar Creek, eventually leaving the drainage and climbing the western flanks of Table Mountain. The stage reaches its peak, having climbed just over 3000 feet and gaining a strong ridge just north of Table Mountain. From here the path maintains the ridge for 4 miles above the Hamilton Creek drainage. At Three Corner Rock, the trail makes a descent, passing the Rock Creek Pass Trailhead and descends into the Rock Creek drainage where it ends along the banks of a small tributary, called North Fork Snag Creek. 

Ah, the rain. I grew up on the west side of Oregon and it always gets a bad wrap for raining a lot but what most people don’t know is that, while that is true and it does rain a lot - it’s usually closer to a drizzle than a true rain. Today was different. We were starting in Washington at the head of a massive atmospheric river storm that is going to drop inches of rain on the Pacific Northwest over the next 3-4 days. Can’t be helped but day 2-3, when nothing is going to be dry, is really going to suck. We know from experience now how ugly walking in the rain for several days can be. #HurricaneHillary2023

We wound our way up to the head of Bridge of the Gods. The massive steele structure stretched before us as traffic slowed at the outlet toll booth. Amanda turned to me with a smile and said “this is it!” She turned around and we began our crossing. The bridge is open, with a gridded floor allowing us to see the 140 foot drop below us in clear relief. “This is high!” I said to Amanda as we walked on. We crossed the 1900 foot length in about 5 minutes and passed into Washington - exclaiming that fact to each other when we were about halfway across. An immense feeling of homecoming swept over us as we crossed into this final of 3 states along the PCT. 

On the other side we walked along SR 14. The cars made quite a bit of noise as they rattled along below us. The rain continued down as we walked through the open country above the Columbia. We ran into day hikers occasionally, as we made our way through the low hills. After about 6 miles the open country north of the river closed in on us and we were back in the Green Tunnel that had become so familiar on our trek south through Oregon.

The rest of the day passed without much of an event. Without a view, up in the clouds, we couldn’t see much. Without a vista to look at we put our heads down and cruised. We were back on that old, friendly loam which supported some higher speeds.

We made our way through the atmospheric river. For the most part, the re-waterproofed apparel held up remarkably well though, nothing can go through 8-10 hours out in the rain and keep you completely dry. 

We stopped a touch early, wanting some time to practice setting up our new tent. We found a spot by a small stream in the midst of old growth trees which sheltered us a bit from the torrent above us. It was a nice spot with a big ol’ log to back the tent up against but the lush, dense and damp old growth left us feeling a bit claustrophobic after almost a month in the high and dry Sierra. The new Big Agnes is sick. An upgrade that they made from our earlier Copper Spur model is that it now has “awnings” that can be propped up from the vestibule using your trekking poles. We need to practice placement so that they don’t pool water before unloading it on us at random moments but, all-in-all, I like the idea and it let me prepare our dinners under cover and out of the rain while Amanda set up our sleeping bags.  

Tonight is beef ramen with shredded beef from a bag. We discovered this shredded beef sometime in mid-California and love it. It’s like a pot roast in a bag and the fat that comes with it is exactly what we are looking for. After dinner we organized our things - a truly dreadful activity in the rain, but we were in more of a drizzle at this point so not that bad. I made one last excursion out to get water in the dark. This was a little eerie because, again, we are now in something almost akin to a jungle here in the Cascades with lots of places for things to hide. I made it back alive and tried to dry myself as much as possible before ducking into my sleeping bag. Keeping the sleeping bags dry is key to success in these damp conditions. We were now under the approach for PDX so we drifted off to the incessant drone of airplanes on final approach over us as well as the steady plip-plop of rain overhead. 

Day 132: Coming Home

9/25/2023

Section: Milepost 789.7 to 789.7

Total Trail Miles: 2147.5 Miles

Distance: 0 Miles  

Moving Time: 0 Hrs 

Deja vu day today - back to Portland! We woke at 5 to catch a shuttle that runs through the Owens valley a few times a day and makes a stop in Independence on its way to Bishop. The motel was ready for us at 5:45 with Breaky Burritos which were delicious. We thanked them, said our goodbyes and headed out to 395 to wait for the short bus to come by. At 6:30 am, our noble stead arrived and we got on with a number of other bedraggled hikers. The bus made its way north and, in front of a Vons in Bishop, we transferred to another bus heading to Reno. I went in quickly to get some coffee and made it back outside just in time to make the transfer. On the way up Amanda and I chatted with some girls from Seattle who had just done the JMT. 

We arrived in Reno 6 hours before our flight and couldn’t check our bags so instead went to a mexican restaurant outside of security to burn some time. I am proud to report that I was able to put down 5 Enchiladas and 3 Margaritas in that time. Eventually, we were able to check our backpacks in - carefully wrapping them in the rain tarps - and go through security. Once inside, we got some cheesecake and beer. I swear, I will never be able to eat like this again, unless we do another long trail. We headed to the gate when we heard our plane had arrived and were stoked to find it was the WSU Cougar plane! Great omen for our success up north!

After a hard landing in what appeared to be a brand new plane on the PDX tarmack, we collected our things and, for a second time, my wonderful sister Katie was there to pick us up in our childhood vehicle - the Burgundy Honda Odyssey. She had a mega order of our favorite Cafe Yumm bowl ready when we got back to her house in the Alberta Arts district. After dinner, it was the unboxing event of the YEAR. We had sent a number of things to her place from Mammoth and a little before including a new tent, new shoes for both of us (went with gore tex trail runners expecting some rain in Washington) and new hat. Katie had also been kind enough to reload our provisions from the one, the only, WINCO foods so we didn’t have to take the time to go grocery shopping. I took the time in the evening to try and re-waterproof everything with Katie’s washing machine and hung it all up to dry.

After all of our chores were complete we stayed up for a while talking to Katie and her roommates but eventually felt the call of the early morning ahead of us and headed to bed.

Day 131: Independence ZERO

9/24/2023

Section: Milepost 789.7 to 789.7

Total Trail Miles: 2147.5 Miles

Distance: 0 Miles  

Moving Time: 0 Hrs 

Elevation Gain: 0 ft

In the morning we had breakfast outside, just as we had in July. The Basecamp motel makes a wonderful spread and encourages social eating with other guests, which was a nice change from our quiet and quick trail breakys. We ate at a table with a middle-aged couple who had done all of California on the PCT and a fascinating guy from Cincinnati named Charlie. As I may have mentioned a few times before, I am currently reading the Wheel of Time. So far, the books have been pretty good. Turns out that Charlie is a hardcore WoT aficionado. With nothing big on the agenda I talked with Charlie for several hours about the series. Evidently there is a website that helps track where the characters are in the story as you go through the books and Robert Jordan borrowed heavily from Tolkien in the early books as a way to hook some of the LoTR fans onto his books. We also talked about Oppenheimer since 2023 was the summer of Barbie-heimer as well as Chernobyl and politics. A little bit of everything. 

As I was going a little too deep on the world of WoT with Charlie, Amanda left and went back to the room to do some of what we now call “Digital Organization.” A couple of Canadian girls from the JMT dropped in on Charlie and my conversation and the morning passed by quickly under the shade of the trees in the middle patio of the Mt. Williamson Basecamp Motel. 

At noon, we said goodbye to Charlie - who was heading out that day and made our way to the local taco truck in the center of Independence. While there, we sat with a family doing the JMT and talked to them as we tucked into some good, good tacos. Super nice to talk - almost everyone walking a long trail of some sort is really fun to converse with. After tacos, Amanda and I headed to what may be our favorite little ice cream shop in the world - the Eastern Sierra Ice Cream Company - for some wonderfully unique flavors. I had one called Jalepenut and Amanda got a lavender corn bread flavor that was super good. We saw the fly fishing couple at the ice cream place but they didn’t stick around long enough to say hello.

After our ice cream outing, we came back to the room and chilled in the cool for a while before heading back to Still Life Cafe to enjoy some more slow-cooked goodness. They were totally inundated on this Sunday evening but we didn’t mind just enjoying the peace of being off the trail for a few days and knowing that we would miss these moments when it was all done. After dinner we walked back to the motel, again under the imposing relief of the Sierra and passed out in the room, ready to fly back up to Portland for the second time, but this time to head north to the finish. 

Day 130: Completing The Line

9/23/2023

Section: Milepost 802.7 to 789.7

Total Trail Miles: 2147.5

Distance: 20.98 Miles  

Moving Time: 10:16 hrs

Elevation Gain: 5210 ft

Today is the day! We are completing a great line we broke 75 days ago and have been heading back south to complete ever since. Once we finish at the turn-off for Kearsarge, we will have completed both California and Oregon and be ready for the final section - our home state of Washington.

Like our sprint to Red’s Meadow a week ago, we skimped hard on sleep last night and woke at 3. This time, it’s not quite as critical to get out early. We don’t have a shuttle waiting and are planning to hitch from the Onion Valley down to Independence, but we figured that there would be more hitching opportunities if we arrived before sundown so the goal was to get to the trailhead by 4-5 pm. 

We woke in cold conditions and I was super happy for my puffy pants. These things are the shit. We snacked on a few trail bars and did our warm-ups in the darkness of early morning. The stars were bright and bountiful above our heads and we delayed starting a few minutes just to enjoy them. As someone who came into this with a lot of backpacking experience, these are the things that get cut just a touch short on the PCT - the moments in between eating and sleeping, just enjoying the setting. There isn’t a whole lot of time for that, but the compensating factor is that you are steeped in the wild for 6 months so you do get your fill.

The stage today starts with a 1.7 mile descent to the junction of Woods Creek and one of it’s tributaries - South Fork Woods Creek. The trail here turns east and crosses Woods Creek where it then turns uphill and ascends into the South Fork Woods Creek drainage. At the top of the drainage, 6 miles in, the trail winds between Dollar and Arrowhead lakes and enters another hanging valley. The grade lessens here as the trail moves up above Lower and Middle Rae lakes and then drops down to cross east-to-west between Middle and Upper Rae Lakes. After leaving the Rae Chain of Lakes behind, a final climb begins in earnest up to Glen Pass on a stark approach path that weaves between another string of tiny lakes. The trail tops out at just below 12,000 feet on a stark ridge that is Glen Pass before descending some very tight switchbacks down the south side, past a small lake. The trail continues a steep descent down the southwest flanks of Mt. Rixford into the Charlotte Lake basin. Here, the stage turns off the PCT and heads east, towards Kearsarge pass, rising past Bullfrog lake and eventually cresting at 11,800 feet over another ridgeline. The Kearsarge Pass Trail then drops precipitously down the flanks of Mount Gould, past a seemingly endless string of quintessential Sierra alpine lakes - Big Pothole, Heart, Flower and Gilbert, eventually dropping below treeline and into a small drainage which delivers hikers to the Onion Valley Parking Lot and where the stage ends. 

We cruised downhill alongside Woods Creek in the early morning darkness. The avalanche damage here is catastrophic. At one point we left the trail behind, staying high above the PCT and in the treeline to avoid the mass of devastation that slowed us on the trail. It must have been armageddon in here during the early spring. There is evidence of massive avalanches all along this drainage. We eventually rejoined the trail and the avy damage seemed to subside.

At the turn-off for Woods Creek trail the PCT turned east. We followed and crossed at one of the spots that was giving us the most consternation back in July. Here, a bridge that was out made for a truly harrowing creek crossing of Woods creek at a time when it was probably 5-6 times bigger than it is now. As it currently was, the crossing was simple and we didn’t even get our shoes wet. After turning east, we started to climb up through the South Fork Woods Creek drainage. In the distance, a beautiful spire rose in the skyline - Fin Dome. “That looks like South Early Winter Spire,” I said to Amanda, referencing a gorgeous dome along the North Cascades Pass highway in Washington. She nodded her head and agreed that it did. 

Another hour of hiking brought us to Rae Lakes. These lakes had been of considerable concern for us in mid-July when we were contemplating continuing north of Kearsarge. At the time, we were planning to purchase the rest of Wildfire’s food - whatever he could spare - and push on to MTR through the snow. One of the things that turned us off at Kearsarge was a report indicating that the section of trail that ran between the upper and middle Rae lake was under 5-10 feet of water and snow. What people were doing to get around this was literally “swimming” the lake to get across because there was no distinction between upper and middle Rae lake during the rapid snowmelt of July, or crossing high on the banks above the lake which are very steep. Now, the walk along Rae Lakes was among one of the most scenic sections of the Sierra highlight reel that was the past 5 days and it was effortless. 

We wound above Middle Rae Lake and then dropped down to cross between Middle and Upper Rae lake. This brought us to the bottom of what would be our final push up to the final pass of the PCT. Yea, we still had Kearsarge but we had already done that one. Glen was the final highpoint of California for us and we were both excited to get it done. We started the assault on Glen and I found myself short of breath, which was funny because we had been around the 10K foot mark for weeks now but I think we are really running short on energy reserves and it manifests itself in funny ways. 

We wound our way through the bare landscape, reminding me of the Morder set from Lord of the Rings, slowly climbing. The couple with the ultralight fishing rod that we had been hopscotching a bit with passed us and asked, incredulously, “what time did you get up this morning?” I felt like they left off the second part of the question which was probably something like “in order to get by us?” I swear, the undercurrent of narcissism in some people on this trail drives me crazy. Yea, we aren’t the fastest out here but there are so many ways to enjoy this trail - speed isn’t the only value. 

We reached the top of Glen Pass at 11:15 am. The pass itself is not the prettiest, but the views as with therm all, were incredible. We stopped to snack, chat and take pictures. The approach on both sides suggest that Glen would have been the most terrifying of them all in the snow pack. The north side might not have been too bad, but the south side looks like it would have supported a healthy amount of exposure. 

After about 30 minutes on top we began to wind our way down some very tight and heavily degraded switchbacks, making our way down towards Charlotte Lake. In the distance, a very pretty dome came into view, similar to Fin Dome, called Charlotte Dome. We continued on down past the lake and finally got some views back into where we came out in July. It was surreal to look back up into Vidette and Bubb’s river valleies, where we had fought through avy carnage and monster creeks over 2 months before. As we approached that memorable turn-off, I recorded a long video for Wildfire to commemorate our fateful decision to turn-off at Kearsarge. And just like that, we rounded a corner, nearly tripped over the plucky little sign for Bullfrog Lake and completed a line that we had been working back towards for 2 months. We stopped there and sat down to remember what we had done, take on some much needed calories and shoot a few pictures. California was done. Oregon was done. All that was left was Washington. 

Eventually we got up and could hear the soft bed at the Basecamp hotel calling from Independence, which got us moving up towards the final headwall of California. We climbed past Bullfrog lake on a clean and clear trail with the beautiful Kearsarge pinnacles in the background. Past Bullfrog Lake, at Kearsarge Lake, the trail increased steeply on a final approach to Kearsarge pass. We arrived on the pass around 3 pm to a crowd of day trippers that had come up from Onion Valley. On the last switchback, we ran into one of the backcountry rangers from Kings Canyon and she and her companion congratulated us when they found out we had just finished California. She did not ask us for our permit but her friend gave us koodos for finishing with “conventional” backpacks. This prompted the ranger to tell us a few stories from July when more than a few ultralighters got into some bad situations in the Sierra during bad weather throughout June and July. A lot of single season hikers were not prepared for it, especially when there was still hundreds of inches of snow on the ground.

We took a few pictures from the top of Kearsarge and cruised down to the Onion Valley campground. As we descended we ran into a couple coming down who asked about where we were coming from. We explained that we were PCT hikers and they eventually asked where we were staying that night. “Independance,” I said, “just not sure how we are going to get there - hoping we can hitch down this afternoon.” They said that if we had not found someone by the time they got down they would take us. We thanked them and carried on. We arrived back at the parking lot around 4. This time, unfortunately, Wildfire’s wife was not waiting with snacks and beer, but we rejoiced in finally getting out and finishing California.

We tried to hitch for about 30 minutes without luck before the couple came down and gave us a ride. They were from Kansas City and were out in the Sierra camping and fishing. Really nice couple. They dumped us out at the Mt. Williamson Motel and Basecamp. I tried to give them a few bucks but they refused. We said goodby and they headed off north. Once in our room, we did all of our classic things. We cleaned off a good 5 days of grime and organized our things, threw out our trash and got stuff put in good order. Afterwards we walked down the one street in Independence and found ourselves at Still Life Cafe. We went in and ordered dinner. It was only one woman making food in the back so it was a little slow, but we weren’t in a hurry. We talked with a JMT hiker while we waited and eventually got our food and cleaned house! Afterwards we walked back through a much drier and hotter Independence. The Owen’s Valley is a special place, sitting in the massive shadow of the Sierra Crest and we took a few moments to revel in it and what we had just achieved. Back at the hotel room we took off our shoes and got in a wonderfully comfortable bed. The room was a little too hot but it didn’t matter as we quickly gave in to a blissful sleep, content with having finished two of the three states on the PCT.

Day 129: Double Trouble

9/22/2023

Section: Milepost 827.5 to 802.7

Total Trail Miles: 2134.5

Distance: 25.62 Miles  

Moving Time: 12:36

Elevation Gain: 5866 ft

Last night, for maybe the first real time on the trail, I got cold. The Thermarest is losing air again. There are now 4 patches on it and there will be more in Independence. I think it is finally safe to consider it at end of life. Hoping Thermarest might be willing to replace this one as well.

We got up early today, at 5:20. It’s getting really hard to rise and shine anymore. I think we are wearing beyond our ability to recover on a nightly basis. I don’t know if this is correct but Strava is indicating we are burning 5000-7000 calories a day which is hard to compensate for. One thing is for sure, we are very interested in getting to Independence. The draw of civilization is getting to gravity level and for this reason, we are going to try and get as far today as possible to capitalize on some time the day after. 

Today’s stage is a two-fer. Two iconic passes of the core Sierra - Mather and Pinchot. The stage starts half a mile up from where Palisades Creek dumps into the Middle Fork of the Kings River. It continues up the Palisades Creek valley for 3.5 miles before diverging onto one of the most beloved ascents on the entire 2600 mile stretch of trail - the Golden Staircase. Rising 1500 feet in 3 miles, the Golden Staircase is a master class in trail design, delivering hikers to the banks of Lower Palisades lake. From the lake, the path makes a long, slow arc turning east, then southeast, and finally south before rising steeply through the Palisades Basin. At the southeast edge of Upper Palisades lake the grade increases steeply, eventually arriving at the col of Mather Pass. Once on top, the trail descends steeply, winding around a small basin just below the pass and turning south, into a huge basin of granite called Upper Basin. The path ducks back into the treeline at 13 miles in and follows the South Fork Kings River to 10,000 feet before it turns east and up, jumping to the top of a headwall where a small, unnamed lake is nestled at the outlet. The trail continues to climb, eventually breaking teeline at Lake Marjorie and then makes another stout climb up to Pinchot Pass along another wide approach. The trail makes a quick drop off of Pinchot, winding through a few small lakes heading east and then south and eventually breaks back into the treeline above Twin Lakes. From these lakes, the trail follows Wood Creek down a drainage to its termination on a high promontory above the creek.

We hit the trail at 6:48. It was still dark in the depths of the Palisades creek drainage and we walked fast to get warmed up. The trail was frequently broken up by gnarled avalanche damage, slowing our approach. It’s similar to what we saw on the Forrester Pass day several months ago. It seems that the National Park Service hasn’t gotten a chance to get in here and clean-up yet. I’m guessing, with the level of damage throughout the parks, this year’s winter season clean-up is going to be a long time coming.

The Palisades creek valley seemed to go on forever as we steadily rose into oncoming sunshine. Eventually, the walls closed in around us and we were funnelled toward the Golden Staircase. Another iconic climb, similar to the Evolution Valley, this series of tight switchbacks rose before us. I quickly lost track of where it spun into what appeared to be an intractable headwall at the end of the valley. Never-the-less, we climbed and quickly left the valley floor behind us. Pikas were waiting for us as we hauled ourselves into ever thinner air. Their squeaks rang out against the granite parapets all around us which Amanda and I quickly started mimicking. “SQUEAK” I yelled into the air. “SQUeeaaAAAKKK!!!” Amanda answered ahead of me. We climbed and climbed, running out of ways to describe the trail architecture all around us. 

An hour more brought us to the banks of Lower Palisades lake in the midst of many PCT and JMTrs. We talked with a younger couple with an english accent. The guy had just pulled out an ultralight fly rod and was embarking down the trail towards the lake. Evidently they were well stocked with trout. Neither of them were especially talkative either so we carried on up towards Mather. The approach to Mather was turning out to be much quieter than Muir - thank the Light. I’m still working on getting through the Wheel of Time so, if you know, you know…. Mather kinda gave off Forrester vibes - miles and thousands of feet of ascent all chiseled into granite boulder fields by a very ambitious forest service a century ago. Not sure who looked up here and said - “yea, we can put a pass there,” but it made for an amazing trail.

We eventually topped out above 12,000 feet on Mather. Amanda and my thing now is to scream “I’M CRESTING” as we top out. It’s childish but that's where we’re at. We relaxed on top for about 30 minutes, taking in the vantage North and South and snacking on our freshly replenished stores. The Upper Basin before us was massive, high and dotted with trees. Another group came up and joined us on top for a while before Amanda and I committed to the descent into Upper Basin. 

There was a little snow on the descent, just as there had been on the ascent, but nothing like what it must have been like for the folks that came up through here in the winter. I couldn't even imagine what it would have been like as I looked back up toward the crest. The passes are pretty sheer, though not super committed, but I gotta believe there would have been a “pucker” factor in some places. As we descended further, I saw some sort of Grossbeak hanging upside down on a boulder collecting seeds from a dilapidated vine plant crawling up towards the light. We saw a marmot making a bouquet for the winter, which only recently seemed to have left this region and later on we saw another, SUPER CHUBBY MARMOT “pancaked” on the top of a boulder just off the side of the trail. He just lazily looked at us as splayed across the rock we passed by pointing and laughing. 

We crossed the incredible Upper Basin, stark and beautiful, before dropping back below the treeline. The trail descended down the South Fork Kings River, which was much more tame than it was 2-3 months earlier. Eventually, we reached the crossing and, again, an older guy attempted to tell Amanda how to cross which immediately made her bristle. We crossed over a mash of avy debris to the east side of the river and took a break before our second major ascent of the day - Pinchot Pass. 

We only rested for a few minutes. At this point, walking is our modus operandi and I hate the feeling of lactic acid setting up in the muscles. Shortly down trail, the grade picked up steeply and we committed to the climb. As we climbed, we argued over the virtues of various freeze dried meals. At this point the clear winner for Amanda is Peak Refuels. They require a fraction of the water of other freeze dried meals and are incredibly rich. For me, it’s Good-to-go. They pack major calories but use quite a bit of water. They are a bit hit and miss. When they’re good, they’re really good, when they’re not… yea, they’re pretty bad. Overall though, Peak and Good-to-go are miles ahead of AlpineAir which was our least favorite. The classic Mountain House sits right in the middle. Our favorite individual meal is probably by Mountain House - Buffalo Mac and Cheese. It’s not super calorie heavy but if you add a quarter brick of cheddar cheese, you can make up the difference pretty quickly. 

Anyway, an hour of heavy climbing brought us to a small lake at the outlet of a large, hanging valley which we progressed up quickly. The approach to Pinchot is even quieter than Mather. There’s a JMTer here and there, but some of them are already starting to set-up for the evening. There’s still hours of light ahead!! Again, that’s the appeal of hiking a shorter trail with excess time - you get to pick and choose your nightly stays. Find a nice spot and it’s a little early to turn in? You can just make it up the next day! 

From the outlet of the hanging valley it was only about 3 miles to the top of Pinchot. Pinchot Peak sat to climbers left of the pass and beckoned us forward as we forged up the valley. As we climbed, we both agreed that the thing we’ve probably lost reverence for in this past section is clean laundry. I mean, it’s kinda nice at the start of a section but it’s gone an hour or so into a hike, especially in the summer, so what’s the point of getting all excited about it?

A stark approach of switchbacks delivered us to the top of Pinchot pass at almost exactly 7 pm, just before sunset. Since we were so close to it, we decided to stick around on top to watch the sun set. Walking in the dark is just a matter of life for us at this point. We had the whole thing to ourselves as the sun sunk behind Mount Ickes. 

Amanda took off down the pass about 10 minutes before me. I stuck around on top to watch the golden hour take form. After I had my fill I followed Amanda and caught up to her about 15 minutes on and we broke out headlamps so we could turn them on when they became necessary. My solar panel now appears to be working (in the sun of course) so electronics are back in favor.

We descended for a long time. I saw a lil’ ptarmigan amongst the rocks and tried to get a picture but he was quick! Eventually, we ducked back down below tree line. We walked by a group of JMTrs in the dark and they said we should stop cause it was a nice spot. We thanked them but said we had to keep going. They made a friendly comment about “Eco-mode-ing it.” We gotta make tomorrow, at most, a 20 mile day. I picked a spot on FarOut and we zoomed on, crossing a wide, very shallow creek above Twin Lakes. A long cable bridge ran above us but it was out of commission.

When we arrived at the camp I had picked out, we found that  there was no water and we were forced to carry on. This left us a little grumpy with each other. It’s been 13 hours and we’re tired and just want to stop. In any case, we carried on and the trail slowly closed in on Wood Creek. We arrived around 10 pm on a long bench over Wood Creek and stumbled to a nice, open spot to make camp. We saw one other tent in the distance and tried not to shine our lights on them as much as possible. Amanda set up the tent while I made the treacherous descent down to the creek bank to get water. As I came back, another headlamp went by us up on the trail - this section is popular for “Ultra-marathoning” between Bishop and Kearsarge. Guessing this was what was going on. 

After we ate and were feeling better, we sat and looked at the stars for a while before turning in to sleep. This was an almost 16 hour day, end-to-end, and we had almost no energy left but it was a fantastic sprint across two iconic highpoints in the Sierra section and our last full day in the Sierra. Tomorrow is the final push out of the Sierra which is a little sad but also so exciting.

Day 128: Muir Pass

9/21/2023

Section: Milepost 847.2 to 827.5

Total Trail Miles: 2109.7

Distance: 20.84 Miles  

Moving Time: 10:01 hrs

Elevation Gain: 2979 ft

We were up and out before the JMTrs this morning. We are at a point now where we are up and on the trail in about 30 minutes or less. The hardcore PCTrs keep this time below 15 minutes on each side of the day - it’s literally walk and sleep with as little time devoted to the points in-between as possible. We aren’t quite there but getting closer and there is something about the efficiency that I like. 

The route today starts with a steep climb out of the lower Evolution Basin and ascends almost 1000 feet in a mile and a half to the outlet of Evolution Lake. From Evolution lake, the stage makes a more slow progression through a chain of alpine lakes, including Sapphire, Huxley, Wanda and McDermand before ultimately crossing over Muir Pass at almost 12,000 feet. Here the trail passes by a stacked-stone emergency hut - the Muir Hut - before descending toHelen Lake and dropping into the Middle Fork of the King River drainage. The trail continues down this river, ultimately dropping about 4000 feet to where the stage ends, along Palisades Creek, just past where it joins the Middle Fork of the King River. 

Our legs burned as we made our way up the steep access into the Evolution Valley. Pikas “roared” all around us and I whipped my phone out to make a comment in FarOut. Someone is going to be pissed about all the pika related beta I am leaving behind but it’s important that someone keeps track of these little guys. I wouldn’t want anyone to be surprised. 

As we climbed, the path before us reaffirmed my amazement at how well the state of California and the National Parks Service keeps this track. The switchbacks are carved into solid stone in some spaces and others are precipitously mounted in scree and rock fields. There is almost an artistry to the way the trail finds its way through narrow headwalls and unveils the destination at the last moment. When it was revealed, though, the Evolution Valley was jaw dropping. Hewn by glaciers out of solid granite, the six mile valley is a poster child for the core Sierra. Bedazzled with calendar-worthy lakes, it’s downright dreamy. So, naturally, with something this good we also encountered no small amount of fellow hikers on the path.

As I've mentioned before, my parents used to take us camping alot growing up. After I got a bit older, my dad would take me backpacking. I remember him saying that being in places like this with a lot of other people is hard, because it feels like you should be alone in something as grand as the Evolution Valley. He added shortly after that, to some degree, you should also be happy to see other people out here because it means that there is solidarity in support for keeping it the way it is. I remember saying this same thing to a woman from Seattle on the summit of Sahale Peak in the North Cascades a few years back and she basically told me to shove that attitude up my ass…so, not everyone sees it like that but it makes sense to me.

As we made our way further up the pass we started to notice the similarities between the high granite passes of the Sierra and those we had encountered in the Himalaya. They have much of the same starkness and lumbering approach to them. Similar to what you would find on something like the Thorung La at the apex of the Annapurna Circuit. 

It was as we were nearing the top of the pass that some… toxic masculinity came out. I don’t take being passed very well and these JMTrs don’t have super far to go every day so they are like hyperactive hares in the morning, sprinting up stuff. So, about the 10th person to pass us as we made the final climb up to Muir Pass I too, started sprinting and left Amanda behind. I know - really bad look and not a moment I will ever be proud of but I couldn’t take it anymore. At the top, I dropped my pack and looked back down the valley. The day was bright and the air was cold and clear. The view was absolutely epic. I milled around a little bit until a very disappointed Amanda showed up. There were about 15 other people at the hut so we sat down outside with a few of them to have a quick snack, Amanda still side-eyeing me as we broke into some kettle chips. Another problem that we are coming to understand is that we have literally no fat stores left. I mean, there might be some, but we are mostly just skin and bones now. Our very unscientific theory is that fat stores modulate your blood sugar and can compensate for times when you should have eaten but didn’t. Without them, as we are in our current state, the feedback loop is extremely short - like, you forget to eat, and you know about it real fast. There have been days in the last month or so where we found ourselves snapping at each other only to realize that we hadn’t eaten in over an hour and were just hangry. I’d like to think this had something to do with my shortcomings this afternoon but I also recognize that some of it was also just who I am as a person - flawed in so many ways.

Muir Pass was amazing but, eventually, we did have to carry on. We are still 50 miles from the turn-off from Kearsarge and there are a whole lotta passes between us and there. We began walking down. The path made a broad turn northeast in order to drop between the Helen Lake and Black Giant ridge. The path here is brutal, even despite the incredible ingenuity and effort Kings Canyon employees to keep it highly accessible. In theory, the whole PCT is accessible to horses but as we dropped by Helen Lake I was becoming less and less convinced this was possible in this section. Just as I was about to firm up that position, however, I nearly took a step in a giant pile of horse shit. “Did you see that?” I asked Amanda. “See what,” she said in a tone that suggested i wasn’t out of the woods yet (pun intended) for my transgressions on the way up Muir. “Someone actually got a horse up here!” Didn’t get much back but i could totally tell she was just as amazed as I was. 

The northern exit out of Muir Pass was brutal. Similar to Donnohue. Big steps, lots of loose rock. Amanda had a hard time. We kept going back and forth with the JMTrs which became a problem when Amanda had to pee and I had to shout at a guy to please stop so she could finish. Honestly, over 2000 miles with not a single event like this but here, on the PCT’s most popular stretch, Amanda almost committed indecent exposure. We just aren’t used to having to go find a secluded pee spot.

Six hours brought us firmly out of the pass and into the tree-line. We are back in the land of Sierra Junipers which are probably my favorite trees on the PCT and I love seeing them driven into the granite floor of this range. As we went, I took bites out of a ball of conglomerated sour patch kids that formed in my food bag over the last few days. I swear, candy has gotten really popular in this family in the last month - cavities are going to abound when we finally get checked again. 

At 16 miles on, we passed the turn-off for Bishop Pass. “Man, I am so glad we don’t have to take that,” I said as I peered up at another seemingly-impenetrable headwall of granite. Ninety minutes more put us at the low point for the day. We left the Middle Fork of the Kings River behind and joined Palisades Creek where we started what would be tomorrow’s battle - the long ascent to Mather Pass. Today though, we hiked a mile up-river before stopping to make camp on the banks of Palisades Creek at 7 pm. It was still light but, at this point, we had two days and about 46 miles to go which we figured was pretty manageable and I wanted to enjoy at least one evening in the area without crash landing in the dark.

We made camp and got our food warmed up. Tonight is Adobe Bowl and I'm going to be shitting myself all day tomorrow - totally worth the tradeoff though. We fell asleep to the sound of Palisades Creek in the background. Tomorrow was going to be our last full day in the Sierra.

Day 127: A Pass a day keeps…your breath away?

9/20/2023

Section: Milepost 868 to 847.2

Total Trail Miles: 2090

Distance: 24.38 Miles  

Moving Time: 09:38 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 3041 ft

Everything was frozen this morning. There were large sheets of ice which had formed on the outside of the tent but, despite this, it wasn't too terribly cold. I was all over the place temperature-wise last night though - started too cold, then got too warm then cold again. Felt like the karate kid - jacket off, then on, then off again. I turned over and looked at the ground outside the tent. A smattering of ice pellets had stuck around through the night in patches under trees and in depressions on the ground. Our things were all just a touch damp given the race to get inside the night before and permeating humidity in the air but now, in high contrast to the craziness of last night, the air was crisp, clean and clear.

We had some breakfast and I had some coffee to wash down the atrocious breakfast protein puck that has become my daily start. There are going to be a lot of things after this is all said and done that i won’t be able to eat for some time and these breakfast pucks are one of them. On the trail though, they have the great power of keeping me feeling fueled and full for several hours into a given stage and that is invaluable. We packed up our things. The tent went into the backpack wet, which is one of my least favorite aspects of these damper mornings but it can’t be helped - we aren’t waiting for the sun to come out. Once everything was away and organized we did our warm-ups and began the day.

The stage today starts in much of the same way as yesterday, with a short climb to a pass just above us. In this case, the pass was Selden Pass. Selden Pass is a narrow cut between Mt. Seneger and Mt. Hooper, two behemoths that make up the west side of the crest in this area. From the pass, the PCT descends off their flanks 3000 feet, transitioning from high alpine to thick forest, eventually dumping into the South Fork of the San Joaquin river drainage. Here, a short detour is made to reach the Muir Trail Ranch, where many PCT hikers send a resupply bucket to avoid going out at Bishop Pass, into Bishop. From Muir Trail Ranch the PCT commits up the San Joaquin River, past Shooting Star Meadow and Tule Lake on a very gradual climb for just over 7 miles. At 15 miles into the stage, the PCT makes a sudden steep ascent to leave the San Joaquin River behind and follow what is, arguably, one of the most famous creeks on the entire PCT - Evolution Creek. This marks the ascent into a truly magnificent section of the trail which is the Evolution valley. A mile and a half on and the trail flattens back out and continues a beautiful meander up through a number of tranquil meadows that make up the lower Evolution basin. The day ends just above McGee Meadow and below the climb to Evolution Lake.

We cruised up to Seldon Pass, making some fond jokes about Amanda’s Grandpa who bears the same name and who, like our experience last night, had a tough time finishing all the commitments he sometimes set out to complete. We were on top in about 30 minutes but were generally happy with our decision not to carry on last night. There were some spots up on the pass but they were very exposed. Nothing like setting up a lightning rod in the middle of an electrical storm. We stopped briefly on top to take it all in. This is the core Sierra and it is GORGEOUS. We carried on a few minutes later, committing to the pain-train that is 7 miles and 3000 feet of elevation loss.

We cruised down through the stage, hitting 3 mph in places. Descending always hinges on trail condition. Most of the time in the Sierra, the descents have a lot of loose rocks which makes foot placement tricky and a little slower than some of the descents in the Cascades. We passed by Sallie Keyes Lakes which was inundated with JMTrs. One asked, while waiting for her tent to dry in the first rays of morning light, if we were going to let our tent dry. We said no, probably not, because it was just going to get wet again, before carrying on. About 2 hours in, the trail took a nosedive down and started to lose elevation fast.

The Alpine gave way to the sub-Alpine and eventually we were back in the thick treeline. Paper boat eventually passed us and we asked if he was going to MTR (Muir Trail Ranch). He said yes and that he would see us there. Around 11 am we reached the turn-off for MTR and took it. The trees cleared as we made the final descent into the Ranch.

Muir Trail Ranch is a family run resort deep in the Sierra and service by a long lake, called Florence Lake, which allows access from the foothills of the Sierra into the core crest. As mentioned above, it helps PCT hikers bridge the distance between Kearsarge Pass and Mammoth by sending a resupply bucket and thereby avoiding the long exit out Bishop Pass to Bisho. We had sent our bucket to MTR in May, when we started, expecting to pick it up in mid-to-late July as per my original itinerary. As is now obvious, we didn’t stick to that itinerary and our poor Home Depot bucket had been sitting forlornly in a shed at MTR for almost 2 months longer than expected. Why a bucket, you might ask? Well, evidently, the packages have to make a lake crossing on what I was told were occasionally over-laden speed boats, in all sorts of weather. Occasionally, packages get lost overboard or heavily rained on, on their journey across Florence Lake and buckets handle all of these scenarios much better than boxes so, bucket it was. My parents had actually done the sending of the bucket and my mom had dreamed up all sorts of scenarios about us not getting it, so I was sure whatever we were going to find once we got there was going to be bulletproof.

We arrived at MTR around noon. After dropping our packs, Amanda set our tent out on a clothes line to dry while I went to negotiate receipt of our bucket. After about 5 minutes of waiting a guy returned with our little time-capsule and we went to work opening it. It took me a bit longer than I had anticipated but eventually I got it open. Inside were all sorts of goodies - Fritos, Trader Joe's Chili Lime Tortilla Chip-rolls, Aaron Baker Breakfast cookies, Nutter Butter bars, and breakfast grits. All-in-all we did pretty well for ourselves. Some of the meals were from a left-over stash of instant meals we had had before starting the trail and we weren’t super excited about eating them but they had to get eaten at some point. 

We stuck around for about an hour at the ranch, getting our bucket contents sorted and stored, letting the tent dry, charging electronics and chatting with Paper Boat. Some PCTrs and JMTrs came through and eventually we left, headed southeast along the San Joaquin River. We cruised steadily up, wearily watching thunderheads roll by overhead. At 14.2 Miles in we crossed the San Joaquin River where, a few months earlier, we had heard the same crossing was life threatening. Now, while still a big river, the crossing was highly manageable. 

Once across, we engaged in a stout climb up and into the lowest parts of the Evolution Basin. The thunderheads were now moving away from us and we started to rest easy that we weren't going to get another stormfront over us later that evening. 

Eventually, sunset came and went while we toiled on. All over now, in the evening, we are starting to notice JMTrs in various stages of setting up or relaxing. Guess that is a bonus of having 3-4 weeks to do 200 miles - you can pick and choose where you want to fall asleep and wake up. As it was, we pushed as far as we could go, picking out an unknown campsite on FarOut along Evolution Creek just before the climb into the upper basin. 

We stopped and set-up camp in a tall stand of trees and in the midst of about 10 JMTrs. They all looked at us, bewildered, coming in after dark. The conditions for this set-up were much more favorable and we were able to calmly sort out duties. Tonight was Buffalo Mac & Cheese which is one of our favorites. We added in about a 3rd of the cheese block that Amanda carried out of Mammoth which substantially added to the cheesiness of th freeze dried dinner. Afterwards we enjoyed the moon which was in the “sliver” phase, but out and very visible, before passing out to the slow and steady gurgle of Evolution Creek.

Day 126: Silver and Seldon Pass

9/19/2023

Section: Milepost 887.8 to 868

Total Trail Miles: 2069.2

Distance: 19.8 Miles  

Moving Time: 9:24 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 4245 ft

Today had a wild finish for a stage with a pretty mundane start. We woke on our gorgeous bench with fabulous views down into the head of Fish Creek valley. The days are getting shorter. I know I've said this before but the change is really starting to become apparent. As we packed up, we managed to punch one of the silly little window’s out of Josh and Maddy’s tent vestibule. The adhesive had been looking bad for a while now but this morning, being a little chilly, it finally gave up the ghost. RIP corny little skylight. 

As we got packed up, ate and started our warm-ups the Pika’s took it as a sign to begin their daily screams which echoed off the granite headwalls all around us. We were bathed in the prophetic warning calls of the alpine guardians. After getting caloried and warmed up, we started off.

The stage today begins from the shelf we stopped at the night before and climbs 600 feet to a crest at Silver Pass. From the pass the trail drops 3000 feet in 5 miles, past Silver Pass lake and into the North Fork Mono Creek drainage to Quail Meadows where the North Fork of Mono Creek joins into Mono Creek proper. From Quail Meadows, the trail climbs 2000 feet back up to the crest of Bear Ridge and dumps back down 1200 feet into the Bear Creek drainage which it commits to climbing out of on its way up to Seldon Pass over the next 6 miles. The stage ends on the East side of Marshal Lake, just before Seldon pass.

We started the day by winding up to Silver Pass where we found 3 thru-hikers already sitting on rocks, taking in the trail southwards. They weren’t the most social bunch and didn’t have much to say beyond hello. We kinda got the feeling they mistook us as JMT hikers because we don’t have one of the 4 different model backpacks that are ubiquitous among the PCTrs and, unfortunately, the elitism that sometimes operates just below the surface with some of our fellow hikers seems to get louder on these busier sections of trail. In any case, we left the “more-than-a-hobby” trifecta on the pass discussing whether their ultralight gear was going to be adequate for the impending storm or if they would have to jump out at Bishop and continue on down the pass. That is the nice thing about hiking with 3-season gear - it’s slightly heavier but the shoulder season doesn’t worry you as much.

We descended down to Quail Meadows, taking in the gorgeous North Fork Mono Creek. At the meadows we turned right back uphill and forged on. This is a potential place for PCTrs to pop out but, given most have a bucket sent to Muir Trail Ranch just a day south of us, few decide to come off here. The Sierra is an interesting place because, while there are many sections that feel stark and remote, there are also many places to bail that bring you to a well travelled road in 5-10 miles traveling either east or west. 

As we gained the crest of Bear Ridge, we ran into Paper Boat taking a quick break. We stopped and talked to him for a bit before continuing on. Just before we were about to descend again, the “more-than-a-hobby” trifecta passed us. They had gone into Vermillion Valley Ranch to have lunch and gotten back on the trail. We said hi to them as they passed us and kept going. 

We dropped off the ridge and down into another river valley before picking our way back up the hill. The up-and-down is really a mood crusher some days. As we climbed up the Mono Creek river valley, we heard thunder in the distance. This wasn’t super odd in the afternoon these days but I always get a little nervous going over a high pass in an electrical storm. We crossed Mono Creek and said hi, again, to the elite couple who had stopped for the night. Shortly after the creek crossing we broke tree-line and the thunder got a whole lot closer. The dimming evening was frequently broken by bright shards of light.

As we approached Seldon pass we stopped to discuss what to do next. The pass was moderately high and there was little-to-no tree cover on it. We’ve been trapped in lightning storms a number of times, one bad one in the Dolomites in 2021 so we were hesitant to go over at the same time as the storm. The tough part was that it was now dark and, looking back, we hadn’t seen a campsite in the last 2-3 miles. As hail started to come down, we found a little drainage off the side of the trail with a decently flat spot and crash-landed there. Amanda hurriedly set-up the tent while I went to get water and boil it. 

Just as I got food ready the sky unloaded on us. Lightning struck all around us as we huddled in the Kelty, eating our freeze-dried meals. The ice pellets were so bad they actually bashed out the second little “sky-light” on the tent and we ended up stuffing our food sacks into the hole to try and keep the hail out. At one point, we just started laughing - it was that kind of day towards the end. 

Eventually, the lightning and thunder stopped and, with them, the hail went away as well. We stayed put and fell asleep, listening to the slow drops of rain fall from the trees above us onto the bruised and battled tent. 

Day 125: Lots of Lakes

9/18/2023

Section: Milepost 907.8 to 887.8

Total Trail Miles: 2049.4 Miles

Distance: 20 Miles  

Moving Time: 6:06 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 4521 ft

More Lucky Charms and Coffee this morning. Not sure it’s got the same magic after I over-indulged yesterday… Will I ever learn - no, I refuse to learn. Lucky Charms are the light and the way. In any case, we packed up and headed down to a different breakfast place called The Stove. It was amazing. Seriously gave the Warming Hut a run for its money. Little more “Family Feel.” After, we went to the one, the only United States Postal Service to get a special shipment from Black Diamond.

In the beginning, I didn't like trekking poles. By the beginning, I mean like 5 years ago. You could say I was a snobby elitist who thought poles for the weak and frail. Amanda tried to convince me otherwise for a long time before one summer, in 2019, we climbed Glacier Peak and I decided to spring for a pair. Now, like many other aspects of my life I didn't go 50%, I jumped all in and invested in a 150 dollar pair of ultralites from BD. Amanda, to this day, still thinks it was stupid but - i’ve put 2500 miles on them now and they have been a life-saver the whole way. Anyway, the right-side “stick” which was originally outfitted with a metal tip has worn down to the graphite and started to chew that away. I have no idea why it’s only the right one but it is so, before leaving from Placerville, I ordered a new bottom segment from BD which was awaiting me at the Mammoth USPS. 

We stopped at USPS and I picked up my new trekking pole segment. We also shipped back our ice axes and spikes. Despite the high passes ahead of us, we had good beta suggesting none of those things were worth carrying anymore. We left USPS lighter and happier - ready to charge forward into what is arguably the greatest section of California. 

We couldn’t get back to Red’s Meadow anymore, the shuttle is shut down for the season so, instead, we had to settle for a ride as far as the buses would go anymore - Red Cones trailhead. We jumped on near The Stove and a bunch of families taking an early fall vacation joined as we made our way up the mountain. Mammoth is gorgeous, that’s all I could think about as our bus wound higher and higher through sunlit stands of pine trees and little alpine lakes. Eventually the bus reached our destination, Red Cones Trailhead, on the banks of Horseshoe Lake. It bears absolutely no resemblance to a horseshoe, but whatever. Here we disembarked from the bus into the bright, sunny morning and began to warm up for what would be our final segment of California - 6 days to Kearsarge pass and out to Independence, California. The gravity of what was ahead was really starting to set in.

The stage today involves a little extra mileage to climb over the Mammoth Crest headwall. From Red Cones trailhead the path meanders up past McLeod lake to Mammoth Pass from which it descends, slowly turning south. At 3.5 miles, our access trail joins the PCT/JMT (a little further downtrail from where we actually came off) and continues south. The stage passes through Upper Crater Meadows, which is the low point of the day, and begins a shallow climb to the head of a ridge which it commits too on the southside and begins traversing southeast. At 6 miles in, the PCT starts a hard climb, gaining 1000 feet in 4 miles. From here the path clings to the south side of the Mammoth Crest, undulating 500 feet several times as it travels east. At 13 miles, the stage passes over the outlet of Purple Lake and climbs just under 1000 feet to reach Lake Virginia before passing Tully Hole and dropping 1500 feet to the head of the Fish Creek valley. The final climb of the day ascends out of the valley to just before Warrior Lake.

We started our freshly charged watches and embarked from Red Cones trailhead. The sun was out and we were nice and rested. We cruised up through trees, lakes and many many day-hikers reaching Mammoth Pass quickly. From here we descended and the day hikers started to drop off with the elevation. We cruised down and got a little turned around with all the criss-crossing trails near Mammoth but eventually reconnected with the PCT. We walked south, high above Fish Creek, which roared below. The trail undulated up and down which was especially irritating as we looked down on what was likely a smooth climb up the valley on the Fish Creek Trail. It might have been less elevation to just drop down to it and climb out of the valley head.

We hiked on and, eventually, heard a familiar voice behind us. It was Paper Boat, the guy we had met the same day we ran into Amy Lu in Yosemite. We stopped and talked to him. He had stopped inTuolumne Meadows and gone into The Valley where he had gotten in trouble for pitching a tent a ways off the beaten path. It’s kinda tough to go into the Valley and come out the same day to get back onto the trail and the rangers patrol that area very hard. We laughed as he told his story and then he passed us and went on up the trail. We continued on after him.

The JMTrs are getting highly concentrated in this area, both passing and being passed by us. We slugged up to the turn-off for Duck Lake before winding around a local high-point and down to Purple Lake. We then crossed through a small saddle and passed by Lake Virginia and descended into Tully Hole. Not sure what you have to do in life to have a hole named after you. I would guess nothing good. 

We climbed up past the headwaters of Fish Creek and the valley slimmed down to a narrow-ish canyon which funneled us up to a small lake just below Warrior Lake. Darkness had fallen on us but we were able to find a nice spot on an excellent granite bench to set up Josh and Maddy’s large Kelty. I went to find water while Amanda set-up the tent on an expansive, accommodating shelf. Carrying a free-standing tent is a bit heavier than the ultra-light options and some of the thru-hikers look down on it but, gotta say, not needing to stake down to anything is a win in the granite-permeated Sierra. That being said, Josh and Maddy’s Kelty is approaching a car camping tent when it comes to weight, so I am looking forward to giving it back to them before we start heading north into Washington.

After dinner we went to the back of the bench to look at the stars. Again, we saw the Starlink string of lights stream across the sky in a perfectly straight-line before, one-by-one, they winked out of existence. We took that as a good sign that it was time to go to sleep and ducked under the flaps, closing ourselves in for the night.

Day 124: Mammoth, CA

9/17/2023

Section: Milepost 907.8 to 907.8

Total Trail Miles: 2029.4 Miles

Distance: 0 Miles  

Moving Time: 0:00 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 0 ft

Click here for current location

Oh, and I thought I had slept well yesterday. Damn. I was knocked out last night. I think we slept in ‘till about 8:30-9 this morning. Honestly, it’s tough when we haven’t really been sleeping in this summer. We got up and I made some coffee… and had like 3 bowls of Lucky Charms. The plan was to go out and get breakfast this morning, but I made coffee regardless. Before heading out we set all of our things out to catch some sunlight on the little porch off of our room. It hadn’t really been wet over the last nine days, but still nice to get things dried out.

We got breakfast at The Warming Hut in downtown Mammoth - Keith was up “early” to give us a ride down there. It was a fantastic place with lots of good options and we were dying for some hot breakfast. Afterwards, we went next door to Mammoth Mountaineering supply for resupply on gas, dinners and insoles. Amanda has been pretty jealous of my puffy pants for the last few mornings and took a look at a pair made by Rab but they were north of 200 dollars - unlike the 100 dollar pair of Mountain Hardware’s I've been sporting the last few days. She ultimately passed them up but wasn’t super happy about it.

Afterwards I took some public transit up to Mammoth’s Ranger station while Amanda went off to get some groceries. That’s right - going to finish up legal. I had tried to get the permits figured out last night online but Recreation.gov was being weird so I just decided to do it in person. It took me a few minutes to get over there but only a few more to get the permit. The guy on duty was super helpful and I was in and out in a few minutes. While I waited on a few things, he showed me the pictures of this winter in Mammoth, including the forest service attempting to dig out the 2 story ranger station from snow that had accumulated over the top of the roof. It was really impressive. 

On the way back, I stopped at a Burrito Truck that Amy Lu had been raving about when we met up with her in Yosemite. The place was called Rolling Chef 395 and…lawd, it was incredible. I got two burritos and took the bus back to the hotel where Amanda and I devoured them. I followed mine up with a few more bowls of Lucky Charms and heavy whipping cream. We spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool and uploading/downloading a whole lot of material before getting our things organized for the final sprint of California. Next stop - Independence, CA! Mammoth was an amazing place to rest and recharge and I highly recommend spending a whole day there if you can spare it!