Day 145 & 146: "So, You Think You Are Almost Done, Eh?"

(Mile 2515 to 2538.5 = 23.5 miles; 2538.5 to 2564 (minus 5) = 21.5 miles)

Sunrise! Before we got socked in....

 That is Washington.  Talking to us.  Taunting us.  Testing us. 

About to get socked in. Pretty, eh?

These last two days have been difficult, to say the least.  Yesterday was downhill, uphill, downhill, uphill.  The last down and up were five miles a piece and into and out of an icy fog.  We got to camp at 9 PM last night.  And we didn't even do our 25 miles.

Gumby on the old PCT route near Suiattle River. FUN.

A late night put us at a later morning this morning and a 2-mile "old PCT" route had us scrambling over trees and log crossings, trying not to lose trail.  There were floods in this area in 2003 and 2005 that took out a handful of bridges.  An official new trail opened in September 2011 with a brand new bridge.  And 5 extra miles. 

Creek crossing with High Life. Water can be pretty powerful...

It is supposes to be gorgeous, the new route, but we don't know.  We opted for the old, abandoned, overgrown route.  And we were treated to an adventure!  Halfmile calls the new route the one for purists, but I say a purist would take the old route!  It was a highlight of the trip for me.  Three creek crossings, two over slightly sketchy downed trees.  And then heaps of downed old growth to make your way up and over and under and around.  I felt like I did when I was a kid, trekking through the woods and swamp.  Banged, bruised, and filthy with twigs and needles everywhere, but happy as can be.  I remember one of my girlfriends declining an opportunity to try portaging a canoe by saying that she was delicate, "like a flower."  And I suppose she was.  But not me.  I love portaging (even though my boat is like trying to maneuver a 75 lb, 17-foot bullet over your head through the woods).  And I love stomping through the woods, balancing on logs, and swinging on branches, trying, all the while, to keep up with the boys (Maddog has been traveling with us!).  I hurt like hell (two days of mountains climbs mixed with landing leaps from logs and twisting the heck out of my ankles has kicked my butt), but I am happy.

Gumby before our 5 mile descent and ascent.

This is NOT an easy finish, this last week or so in Washington.  With the mileage we are all trying to make, I would say that this is actually one of the most difficult parts of the trail.  And at a time where we would like to be excited to finish, excited to cruise on in to the end.  But there is no cruising here.  Crawling is more like it!

Interview with a marmot!

Day 143 & 144: Faith

(Mile 2476 to 2490, Grizzly Peak = 14 miles, Mile 2490 to 2515, Red Pass = 25 miles)

Handstands for Hikers' Haven!  We loved this place.

(The bedroom tonight is on a ridge under a starry sky.  The moon is orange, the breeze is blowing, and the landscape is phenomenal.  Washington is beautiful.  The Sierras with less elevation and more room to breathe.)

A relatively smokeless sunset with a sliver of moon.  We also love Washington.

The letter in my last resupply box was about faith.  The faith it takes to do a trip like this.  I had never thought about it in that way, but today, I had fourteen hours of walking to think about how a journey on the PCT requires faith.

 A blue morning.  Accent due to smoke...

It's a little funny, but the first thing that comes to mind when I think of faith and the PCT is the faith that the PCT exists.  It may sound a little crazy at first, but I liken it to the faith of explorers.  I can imagine Lewis and Clark traveling across the country, never having been there, but having faith that they would eventually reach the Pacific Ocean.  Or our ancestors traveling in wagons from the East to the West, fulfilling their Manifest Destiny.  Even though it has been done, and there are endless maps and photos, when you stand at the Mexican border on the PCT, it is hard to truly believe a trail is going to carry you to Canada.  Along this line, too, is the faith that there will be places to camp and get water along the way. 

So, you must have faith in the land and the trail.  You must also have faith in people.  No one does the trail alone.  Oh, sure, we may travel solo and may even be self-supported, but even the most independent if us relies on others, for emotional support if nothing else.  And most of us count on others for much more.  We have faith in our resupply people, the trail angels, and our hitches.  We depend on the kindness of others to help us when we're in need.  We count on each other.  We count on all of you to cheer us on.  We believe people will support us, and they do.

Handstands for 2500 miles!

A beautiful sunset evening on our way to Red Pass.

In addition to faith in others, we must have faith in ourselves.  This is the faith in our ability to succeed and to make good decisions -- including the one to hike the trail in the first place.  This faith is probably the one put to the greatest test.  There are a million reasons to quit the trail and far fewer to stay on.  A wavering faith in yourself will send you down the reason to quit trail faster than you can decode PCNST.

And then there is the faith in the future.  This is the faith that things will work out after trail and while we are gone.  Without this, we could not leave our lives for five months.  When I first told my manager I was planning to hike the PCT, I told him I would be submitting a leave of absence request.  I also told him that I would be going ahead with my plans even if my request was denied.  Either way, we would need to find a replacement.  Many people thought this was crazy, the willingness to leave a fantastic state job.  I by no means wanted to.  But I knew I had to hike the trail, and I trusted that everything would work out somehow even if the job didn't.  Fortunately, I will not be traveling this path.

It was an amazing evening hike!

Grasshopper love.

All of this, the faith it takes to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, is really the same kind of faith it takes to follow any dream.  Pursuing our dreams requires nearly complete faith.  Falter and the dream begins to, too.  It is all too easy to fall off the path!

Maddog and a pack goat.  A father/son hunting party were using them to pack in gear.  Great guys.

Day 141 & 142: Hiking Seasons

(Mile 2464, Pipers Pass, to 2476, Skykomish = 12 miles)

There are plenty of analogies out there for the Trail, I am sure, but today I was thinking about how, mentally and emotionally, the journey has reflected the seasons.

Fires in the area, but Washington is still gorgeous.

For the purposes of the analogy, we'll split California into three parts:  the desert, the Sierras, and northern California. 

We started with the desert in the spring, and, indeed, the desert was like spring.  Everything was fresh and exciting.  Every day brought new experiences and people, thoughts and feelings.  I will always remember the people and places of the desert with a tinge of nostalgia for they were my first memories of the trip.

Trail magic, Copenhaver style!

Just when the desert was beginning to grow long and just as summer was beginning, we hit the Sierras.  The Sierras were like early summer.  When we started, we were as excited as kids just getting out of school with an entire summer vacation ahead of us.  We packed our packs high and were off for the great adventure.  We kept our schedule loose, played hard, and slept harder.  The JMT hikers kept us amused and the passes kept us guessing at what surprise might be around the next corner.  It was wonder-filled time.  I loved the Sierras.

Metamorphic rock. Granite under pressure.

Northern California.  Oh, northern California. It was like those hot, stagnant mid-summer days where nothing moves but the fly buzzing around the table and the near-spoiling fruit.  It is probably not fair of me to write much about northern California because I am a little bitter about it.  It was brutally hot and hilly.  It is also, as Gumby reminded me, where the stalking happened and where my feet started to get bad. 

Care packages! Thanks, Jim, John, and Pam!

Oregon, on the other hand, was like that transition period between summer and fall.  There is an energy to the air as you try to squeeze the last bit of fun out of summer.  This time flew by and is filled with memories of visits from friends, great surprise stops, and easy but scenic trail miles.  One fantastic vacation.

Sorting the resupply. So many goods, so little space!

And now we are in Washington, and it is fall.  And Washington feels like fall.  Gone is the newness of spring, the thrill of early summer, the mid-summer doldrums, and the last vacation.  There is a bit of anxiety in the air as we enjoy this gorgeous weather, but know that an early winter storm could end everything.  As could a failure of feet or a slip on a mountainside.  My mood and thoughts are fall-like, too.  Just as the plants are slowing and settling down for winter, ready for the growing season to end, so am I slowing and settling and preparing for the end.  I feel a little more quiet and reflective these days.  Thoughtful, but about nothing in particular.  My heart and head feel content.  A winding down of sorts.  I am excited for the finish, but still softly pleased to be on trail.  Storms may hit, but I feel prepared for those, too.  And, they might not even come at all.

My new white outfit! I AM PCT fashion. Thanks, Jim Knight!

. . . . . . . .

We are at Hiker Haven.  The Dinsmores are wonderful.  A mini-Saufleys!  I received spectacular care packages again!  Huge thanks to the Reid/Thomas's and Jim Knight.  And Jim Copenhaver for catching us once again!  We have perhaps the best support team on trail.  :)

Day 139 & 140: Ask the Readers!

(Mile 2417 to 2438 = 21 miles; 2438 to 2464 = 26 miles)

High Life, moth tamer.

Well, the days are growing short, the miles growing long, and it is a mere ten days until we finish.  We are sticking with our plan of 25's for the most part.  Yesterday was an exception as Gumby got lost without knowing it and sent High Life and I on a wild goose chase trying to find her.  It was quite a day, and by the end, I was too tired to write.  It seems to be the case these days.  It is hard to make myself stay up to write when I just want to try to get eight hours of sleep in.  So, I will keep this short and sweet.

He seriously just picked this up off the bridge, and it started feeding off of his finger. We could see the little wet tongue marks.

What I would like to do is take a moment to get some suggestions from all of YOU.  I am planning to do a few talks when I finish this hike and could use some help framing them.  What I would like to know is what you all would like to hear about.

Look at how far we've come!

Here's what I plan: 

1)  A talk/slideshow for friends and anyone interested from around my home town--it'll be in a public space with people of all levels of interest.

2)  A talk/slideshow at the local hiking club or nature center, for the public, but perhaps aimed at avid outdoors folks.

3)  A talk for later elementary/middle school kids, slant on pursuing your dream/adventure.

This place is gorgeous. Unfortunately, you can't really tell with all of the smoke!

If you were to attend a talk on the PCT, what would you want to be included?  What questions would you like answered?

Resting the dogs.

This is a huge help for me.  And it gives me something to ponder and plan during the final days of my journey!  Many thanks!

Day 137 & 138: Happy

(Mile 2386 to 2402 = 16 miles; Miles 2402 to 2417 = 15 miles)

2400 miles down, 265 miles to go!

We are laying under the stars on a saddle in the Alpine Wilderness with High Life tonight.  We managed 15 miles and got in pretty late, but had one of the best sunset nights of the trip.  Not to mention it was Saturday Night Buffet.

My mate asked me yesterday how I was doing.  "I'm happy," I said.  "Happy?  That's it?"  "Yes, happy."  And it's really almost that simple. 

High Life and Nino let us stay with them and then hiked with us. The Catwalk.

I am really enjoying Washington.  It's beautiful and varied and just wild enough.  And we have had amazing weather.  I did not anticipate liking this state so much.  Or perhaps I would have visited more and sooner.

Washington fall.

Much to my surprise, I am enjoying our new bubble.  Maddog hiked with us this last section, and we have spent the last two nights with High Life.  He and Nino caught us yesterday at the hotel restaurant and invited us to camp out on their floor.  At $120 a night, we were going to skip showers and laundry, but we couldn't pass up an offer for a floor!  It was fun and restful.

I have also found myself to be pretty content these last couple of weeks.  I was thrilled to be in Oregon and am now just happy to be in Washington.  Gone is the anxiety of northern California.  The end is near, but I wish it neither to come sooner nor later.  I am just as happy to be on trail as I am to be finishing.

Mt. Rainier in the distance.

As for the feet, they are not doing well.  But, I don't think they are getting worse, either.  The tape job helps during the day, and I am trying to get used to wearing the braces at night--I have wound up peeling them off every night in a fit of discomfort.  At this rate, I think I can finish.  As long as the trail is not as brutal as today--loose rock everywhere twists the ankles and batters the feet.

Sunset in the Alpine Wilderness. One of the best on trail.

Our trail magic continues, too, making the time pass quickly and memorably.  My friend, Elsa/Pepperjack, and her husband, Batteries Included, surprised us just before Snoqualmie.  I was so happy I cried, again.  (Doesn't take much these days!)  Pasta, Coke, cookies, chips, watermelon, and some good catch-up time.  I was as happy as could be.

So, all is well.  And I am simply happy out here.

More sunset. It was a late night, but well worth it! The colors were spectacular. Thanks to High Life for keeping an eye on us. :)