Day 125: Two States Down, Almost!

(Mile 2117.5 to 2142.5 Eagle Creek = 25 miles)

Fall is beginning in the Pacific Northwest!

We are in the Eagle Creek canyon, just miles from finishing our tour of Oregon--okay, 11 miles from finishing Oregon.  This state has flown by.  Less than a month ago, we were roasting in California.  Now we are chilling in Oregon, getting ready to freeze in Washington.

We can see Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens, and Rainier from Oregon! Washington, here we come!

Many people are getting anxious about Washington.  Finishing before the snow, mostly.  But it isn't really finishing that I am uneasy about; we move 25 miles a day, and if we make it, we make it.  If we don't, we don't.  No, it is trekking through another state that I do not know, and, this time, probably with rain and snow.  And the farther north we go, the more remote the country gets.  Oh, I am trying to get myself excited about Goat Rocks and the Northern Cascades.  And I am.  But I am also a little scared.  Oregon has been relaxing.  It is charted territory for me.  Washington might as well be Alaska in my book!

I can't help it. I love bones, Lou! Looks like a deer to me.

I will miss Oregon.  I am already excited to come home.  And not in the crazy northern California kind of way.  (I almost lost it there!)  I feel relaxed and happy and ready to step back into regular life.  I am sure I will miss the trail.  I already miss people I am realizing that I may never see again. Washington… hopefully, it is good mental transition time.  Time to wrap up my thoughts from the past four months and get situated to embrace the next phase.  ...  Which will probably include a good deal of healing!

Day 123 & 124: Social Butterflies

(Mile 2088.5 to 2107, Timberline Lodge = 18.5 miles; 2107 to 2017.5 = 10.5 miles)

Chris and Gage, bringers of great trail magic.

Well, it has been difficult to find the time to write lately.  Everything has been going splendidly, it is actually just socializing that is making writing a challenge.  Hardly anything to complain about!

Charles, baker of peanut butter bacon bit cookies!

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of meeting Chris, her partner, Charles, and their dog, Gage.  The three brought us subs and hiked with us for awhile before treating us to more magic than we could possibly eat ... in one sitting, anyway.  The company and treats were welcome; the afternoon flew by, and, before we knew it, we were at Timberline Lodge.  One of my favorite places in Oregon.

Mt. Hood. Northern most of the Oregon Cascades.

And!  My mate had reserved us a room at Timberline!  Rooms, beds are always nice, but I have wanted to stay at that lodge since I first walked through those doors.  I love CCC/WPA/New Deal era park architecture and craftsmanship, and Timberline takes it to another level.  The place has a lively energy, as if those who designed, built, and furnished it were playing the entire time.  I lounged in bed this morning, staring at the bed frame, imagining the hands that went into making it over seventy-five years ago.  Unbelievable.

For the first time ever, I am staying the night at Timberline Lodge. Built by the Works Progress Administration in the 1930's and interior designed by Margery Hoffman Smith (who designed the furniture at my park) this is my favorite building anywhere. I am awestruck.

What's more, it was actually at Timberline Lodge in that ping pong room (the Barlow Room?) a handful of years ago that I realized that I must hike the PCT.  I can still recall the moment, standing, staring at the watery artwork, the sun streaming through the curtain, when a wave of clarity washed over me.  "You have to hike the PCT."  Hmmm.  I had forgotten about that instant until just now.  Little did I know.

Handstands for Timberline Lodge!

Today was mostly spent at Timberline.  A slow breakfast buffet, packing, and hanging out at Wy' East while catching up on phone calls and emails.  We made it out by 3 PM and had a solid hike to Ramona Falls.  Which Gumby loved just as much as I hoped she would.  Tomorrow?  Eagle Creek.  Then Cascade Locks and more socializing! 

Mt. Hood from the base. I have climbed it once, but need a repeat visit to catch the view from the top on a cloudless day!

Ramona Falls. We cooked dinner while the evening light danced over the rocks.

Day 122: Chased

(Mile 2064 to 2088.5, Little Crater Lake = 24.5 miles)

Our stalking Trail Angel, Jimmy.

By trail magic! 

Yes, it is true.  We have been followed and literally tracked once again, but his time by my friend, Jimmy, who has a little time to trail angel us again! 

We were hiking away from Olallie Lake last night when someone ran up on me.  I turned around, and it was Jimmy, out of breath and in Carhartts and a cotton tee.  What the?!  He had hoped to catch us earlier in the day, but missed us.  So, he calculated that we should hit Olallie, stopped in the store to find that we had not left long ago, and then hit the trail at a run to catch us.  I did a triple take when he came up from behind. 

We've got this!

We made plans to camp together later, but it was a terrible plan.  And failed.  But!  He came at us from ahead this afternoon, and we hiked together a few hours and made it to his truck for trail magic and a break.  Then I did something I thought I never would do.  We decided to camp together at Little Crater Lake, six miles up the trail -- he'd drive, and we'd hike.  And.  He'd take our packs if we wanted.  I've never been tempted to slack-pack, and I wasn't today, either.  I just simply said yes.  Gumby and I were ecstatic as we scampered along Timothy Lake, pack-free.  She was an absolute chatterbox!  And we arrived at camp just before 7 PM.  Dinner, a campfire, the local paper (thanks, Pam and John!), and a pre-bed massage.  I am a happy hiker.

Lesson?  Don't run when being chased by angels!

Day 120 & 121: Second Wind

(Mile 2012 to 2037, Woodpecker Trail = 25 miles; Mile 2037 to 2064 = 27 miles)

Mt. Jefferson, here we come!

There are four moments that stand out for me during my first marathon -- the Chicago Marathon when I was, what, twenty-two?!  The first was at mile 15.  I was getting pretty worn down and the route was feeling monotonous when, all of a sudden, I heard someone from the crowd shout my name.  It was a coworker from Nordstrom!  Darrin, if I remember his name right.  A new energy surged through me with the familiar face and the cheering from the sidelines.  (There were 35,000 runners that year, mind you, and the course was lined with spectators -- that anyone could spot me or I them was a small miracle.)  At mile 18 it was an aid station.  In addition to water and Gatorade, they were handing out Power Gels.  I was starving and had two strawberry-banana packets.  I had never tried them before, but quickly fell in love when, twenty minutes later, a rush of energy restored my body.  At mile 20, I realized I only had 6.2 miles to go.  Two Heritage Days 5K routes.  I had done it a million times.  I gave a holler and took off, making the second half of my race significantly faster than the first.  Mind over matter.  The last moment that stands out was crossing the finish line.  I cried.  I had put to so much into the race in the months prior, it was an emotional release to finally finish.  Those were the moments -- an unexpected cheering on, fuel for the body, realizing I would succeed, and crossing the finish line.  Today, I realized that all of these phases were happening on trail, too.

Jefferson from its base. I've never seen it from this angle.

Support and cheering in Oregon came first from my good friend, Jim, and then my second "mom," Carol.  These were my first familiar faces in Oregon.  Once we hit mid-state and Santiam Pass, a crowd of ten gathered to cheer us on.  Earl, Betty, Jim, and Janet, followed by Jennifer, Lori, and Manny, and then, for a repeat visit, Carol and her husband, Greg.  After 2000 miles and 120 days, it was both relieving and motivating to see so many familiar faces.  It may seem small, but it makes a huge difference.

The only thing better than saying hello to Jefferson again is doing so with a loved one.

Fuel for the body also came with each of these visits.  Sweets, treats, and full meals, fresh food and pop.  I am constantly carrying extra food because of the trail magic we are receiving.  Did I mention on-trail massage?  That doesn't hurt, either.

Same place, different time. A return to Jefferson Park is always emotional for me.

My tenth visitor and perhaps biggest supporter arrived at McKenzie Pass and stayed with us until Jefferson Park.  If this trip were a television program, it would have a tag line announcing, "This trip made possible by support from Guy Rodrigue."  Guy came bearing tubs of Thai take-out, my personal favorite.  He joined us for resupply and washed our laundry, and then hit trail with us, carrying extra gear and surprising me with treats.  He's been working on this trip in the background for half a year -- it was a joy to share the reality with him.  And, more than the tangible things he brought, it is the intangibles that have made the most difference -- enjoying silences and laughter; talking about our lives, present, past, and future; giving and receiving affection; sharing a journey with the one who made it possible.  There are people who renew our minds and people who renew our bodies and people who renew our souls.  And then there are those rare few who renew all, our minds, bodies, and souls. 

Paintbrush. The meadows were covered with wildflowers.

I am a lucky hiker, a lucky woman, having so many people supporting me physically and mentally through this trek.  I could not do this without everyone.  I am certainly not doing it alone.

The Waterfall 2 Fire that nearly kept us out of this area. The trail reopened only days before.

I am now ready and looking forward to those next two phases -- rallying as I cross the Bridge of the Gods into Washington and crying tears of joy when I reach my destination.  Thanks, everyone, near and far, for sending support on trail and off.  We are entering our last leg.