Day 123: Wednesday, September 4

Tenting deep in the Goat Rocks Wilderness (PCT mi 2281.2), walked 28.4 miles today

Woke up around 6:45 to Hooligan starting another campfire; Hitch tells me he's been doing two a day every day since the desert, regardless of regulations. Left around 7:20 and walked the first five laughably easy miles with Hitch, catching up on everything that's happened to us respectively from Sonora Pass to here. Was around her on and off throughout the day ... Hooligan caught up after awhile, with Broken Toe in tow ... The latter had been off a few days in Portland and was now trying to finish in 10 days to meet his goal of a 100-day thru-hike. This includes 9 days to Stehekin from here, followed by one 24-hour, 90+ mile trail run/walk to the end. To each his own, that's what I always say!

Serenaded Hooligan, who hikes in a kilt, with Bryan Bower's "Scotsman" song, though it was interrupted by me repeatedly running out of breath and almost passing out in the middle of the trail because we were going uphill at the time. Took a relaxing break around midday in full sun, which no one was expecting today, in front of the type of vista that I hate to say I almost don't notice anymore. I reminded myself as I was sitting there, especially once the others had gone off ahead, that uninterrupted views of hilly evergreen forest and large volcanic peaks in the distance are worth a soak in, still, and it's worth storing that feeling of having them all to yourself, in perfect weather, for the cold rainy post-trail days when the hiking life seems very very distant. Pressed on from that little reverie for another ten relatively calm miles, then the scenery really started to ratchet up. At 5pm with around 3 miles left, I crested a rise, with Hitch right in front of me, and holy Jesus what are those goddamned mountains doing right there?!? I nearly cried out. We were all of a sudden in the part that I believe people are referring to when they mention Goat Rocks as a highlight of the trail--very Swiss Alps-looking, with green treeless slopes, patches of snow, and rocky alpine peaks jutting up here and there. There are about 10 more miles of it tomorrow, much of it quite exposed, through intimidating-sounding features like The Knife Edge, Old Snowy Mountain, and Packwood Glacier. It's hard to tell right now whether the weather will be okay or not, although the forecasts from two days ago were all so utterly grim that I don't hold out much hope of having good views, or even feeling remotely safe, on the high parts tomorrow. We'll see. White Pass is as little as 20 miles away, depending how one gets there, in the worst case scenario.

Day 122: Tuesday, September 3

Tenting by Killen Creek (PCT mi 2252.9), walked 20.4 miles today

The PCT gods mocked my attempt to cowboy camp last night by sending rain around midnight. Played the always fun run-around-in-the-dark-desperately-setting-up-the-tent game and got back to sleep after half an hour. Woke up around 7 and left at 7:30 for 2.5 miles up and 2.5 miles down to Road 23, destination Trout Lake. About a mile before the road a wasp stung me good on my elbow and it still itches now, 12 hours on; I got to the road itself and waited 45 minutes for the first car to come my direction (2 cars went by the other way during that time). Was starting to wonder if Mt. St. Helens had re-erupted and buried the town of Trout Lake under a lahar when finally Beth and Alex, holidaymakers down from Seattle, passed by and happily pulled over for me. Squeezed into their rather full backseat and made it into town around 10:30.

Picked up my resupply box, had a soda, and was on the phone with Kristin on the store porch when Sherpa C and Fuller rode in in the back of a pickup truck. Went to the diner, the only show in town, for lunch with Sherpa and had very respectable tacos and salsa before arranging a ride back up to the PCT with local trail angel Doug. Just as we were about to leave the diner, I saw a familiar but very long-lost face outside, that of Hitch, last seen before Sonora Pass on June 30. I'd long given up hope of seeing her again, since when we parted ways she was leaving the trail for 9 days for some crazy Indian wedding, but she's made up some distance lately. She said she was camping 15 miles up the trail and that sounded reasonable to me, getting back on around 2pm, and I made it my goal.

The trail had superior views of Mt. Adams almost nonstop all afternoon ... I couldn't stop taking pictures of that stupid mountain and my phone's SD card finally filled up (I'm clearing out old stuff now to make room for the last few weeks of trail). The 15 miles weren't especially taxing and I was in by 7:40. Also present here were an Irishman named Hooligan and a Briton named TurboSnail. For the second night in a row my campmate(s) had a fire crackling for me by the time I rolled in ... Sat around with all of them talking this and that, and everyone retired for good around 9. Because Thursday is supposed to be an absolute blinder, to borrow TurboSnail's phrase, weather-wise, we're all going to try to hurry the 50 miles to White Pass and its motel by that night, even though I don't have to be there til Friday at noon to meet my mom.

Day 121: Monday, September 2

Cowboying by Trout Lake Creek (PCT mi 2232.5), walked 30.8 miles today

Got moving by 7 today and used some of the nearby ice cold spring water to concoct my first ever Starbucks Via iced coffee drink, which was crazy delicious and improved my morning considerably. I still have 5 packets left from the hiker box at Cascade Locks (there were hundreds there; someone has insider access in the industry and has been sending boxloads to trail angels ever since the Saufleys'), and it's safe to say I'm glad I didn't know about these, the cold-water Via mixes, earlier, because I would've bankrupted myself purchasing them. They'll probably be a line item in my CDT budget, whenever that happens. Anyway, back to the PCT ... uh .... I hiked it all day! And 5 miles into it, I ran into a guy named Fuller, my first nobo thru-hiker encounter since the 5 miles out of Cascade Locks. He and I chatted for a bit--he was just breaking camp--but then I moved on and he never caught up.

The trail appeared easy on the elevation profile today and that turned out to be pretty much the case ... I figured unless something came along to really slow me down, I'd make 30 miles comfortably. The air was extra clear this morning and I got good views of Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Adams (I think), plus a look 50 miles or so to the west where clouds appeared to be building. The last time I saw that pattern was right before Jefferson, and it didn't end well, so I was ready for the worst this afternoon/evening but it never came, it just got fully sunny in all directions again. Many many weekenders or day hikers passed me throughout the day; only one of them, a fellow named Martin at the end of the day, picked me out as a thru-hiker and asked me about it. The rest, I got the sense, may not have been very aware of the PCT ... One lady asked me, "Hiking out today?" and by the time I replied in the negative, she was already moving the other direction and said, "Oh, good for you!" in a very strange motherly tone that conveyed the impression that she hadn't really processed my response. There were a couple of people picking mushrooms and huckleberries who seemed annoyed by my presence and the fact that I always wanted to pet their dogs (which were of course off-leash). Basically, I'm glad Labor Day is over and these amateurs can hopefully stay out of my damn woods from now on.

Around 6:30 I made it here, to good old Trout Lake Creek, and made the risky decision not to even bother with my tent ... I'll doubtless be punished for my insolence before dawn with some mixture of pouring rain, hail and/or snow, but it's okay because I'm going into town tomorrow. The only other person here was Mario, a cool dude from Portland who has been southbounding the Washington section. He had built a doozy of a campfire by the time I showed up, so I hung out there with him for an hour or so eating dinner and talking shop. Darkness now sets in way too early, around 8-8:15, so I turned in then ... Tomorrow morning I've just got to get up and down 5 miles and then thumb a ride to Trout Lake, which everyone, from Yogi's book to the southbounders from the last few days, seems to love. Whether I leave town tomorrow afternoon or stick around for the night is unclear and depends mostly on the weather.

Day 120: Sunday, September 1

Cowboying near an unnamed spring (PCT mi 2201.8), walked 27.6 miles today

Departed last night's spot by 7:30 and saw no one whatsoever all morning. This did not bother me in the least ... everything I did today was suffused with a calm, happy feeling. I've been in a very good mood since Cascade Locks, and the warm sunny weather might be playing a part in that. When I left Shrek's, Donkey shook my hand and said, "Enjoy the rest of your hike, although you seem like you're really enjoying it already." That made me glad to hear, that I give off that impression noticeably. Today I must have looked that way to anyone who saw me, but that wasn't many people.

Around the middle of the day I was in a low-elevation part of the trail that seemed to have a lot of civilization nearby ... the trail crossed three paved roads in as many miles and I was hoping for trail magic at just one of them--it was even hotter than yesterday and a cold soda would've been soo nice, and it was Sunday of Labor Day Weekend so the odds seemed good--but there was nada. Was forced to conclude that this state must be full of avaricious scum who hate hikers. After that nadir, both literal and figurative, the trail started a 9-mile climb that I had been dreading, but I put on music and, consistent with the way the rest of the day went, the shuffle picked all the right songs and I cruised up the hill nice and easy without even feeling it. Near the top, around 5pm, I encountered two long-lost faces, Babyface and Dixie Cup, both of whom I'd last seen shortly after Kennedy Meadows (mile 700). They appear to have fallen in love and had been treading such a primrose path of dalliance that they flipped up from Sierra City to the Canadian border at the end of July and still haven't made it out of Washington heading southbound since then. I mentioned to them that Spit Walker had a stated goal of Most Time on Trail among all successful thru-hikers in 2013 (he started April 3 and wants to last 6 months if not more), and they were intrigued. Babyface said he already had a record he didn't think anyone would beat--most weight GAINED, at 25lb and counting. They were both really funny and really happy, and it made for a great run-in ... Dixie Cup seemed a lot better off in her present situation than she was with the two heffalumpish women she had for hiking companions in the desert.

Eventually we all bid farewell and I resumed my northward bent ... Two miles later I was at the top of the climb and two miles past that I was at this site, which was my short goal for the day. It was, unusually, a bit off from Halfmile's GPS waypoint but I used my finely honed wilderness navigation skills and found it anyway--ice cold water, flat soft camping and just me. The sine-curve pattern of thru-hiker traffic continues ... For the last half of Oregon, I couldn't escape them if I'd tried; now I see no one going my way for 36 hours, and probably more. Tomorrow: another 25 to 30, hopefully closer to 30 because it could mean breakfast in Trout Lake the ensuing day.

Day 119: Saturday, August 31

Cowboying above the uniquely named Rock Creek (PCT mi 2174.2), walked 19.2 miles today

Hung around the Swamp for a bit longer than expected this morning, just because there was good company and some of my things needed to dry out after a very condensation-heavy night on the lawn. Otter, who has been a golf pro for 30 years in his normal life, took a look at the video I still have on my phone of me teeing off on the 6th at Kempsville Greens last December and gave me a brief analysis, doing a very good job to conceal the repulsion he doubtless feels when he sees my swing mechanics. Finally escaped the vortex around 10, bought a popsicle as I exited town, and walked up to the Bridge of the Gods to leave Oregon and cross the Columbia into Washington. Remembered from reading Spins' blog last year that this is actually a terrifying road walk with no sidewalk, no shoulder, and narrow lanes to begin with--it seems like an old bridge--but the traffic did a good job of avoiding me and I actually enjoyed it so much that I doubled back, upon making the other side, to snag a good picture of the first Welcome to Washington sign that hangs in the middle of the bridge.

Reentering the woods on the Washington side, I knew that all I had to do was climb and climb and climb for most of the day (the Bridge is the low point of the PCT elevation-wise at 203 feet above sea level). It wasn't really as bad as I was expecting ... The weather was hot down low, maybe even 90 in the sun, but the trail was shaded for all the steep parts and there was great ice-cold spring water after 8 miles that made for a fine break spot. At this point I was in the midst of a 50k trail-running race that was coming the other way, so I was pulling over for joggers of dubious ability every two minutes or so (I was catching the tail end of the race, a lot of chunky women or injured-looking competitors). After a time the people faucet turned off and I was alone for the last 8 miles or so down to this site, my target for the day. Chatted with a nice section-hiking couple from Richland, Wash. who were camped right by the water and they pointed me up the embankment to some really nice, soft, flat sites that I have all to myself. Discovered to my chagrin today that I forgot to send the savories--sausage and cheese--when I packed my Cascade Locks food maildrop 2 weeks ago, so I literally have almost nothing but chocolate-based sweets for snack food the next 2-3 days. Made potatoes tonight but hardly ate any, because I actually want them around as leftovers tomorrow just for some variety in my taste profile. Tomorrow should be some kind of routine 25-30 day, don't really have plans more specific than that.

Day 118: Friday, August 30

Cowboying in the backyard at Shrek's Swamp in Cascade Locks (PCT mi 2155.0), walked 15.7 trail miles today

Woke up around 6:15 to the lady formerly assumed drunk carrying on at a similar volume to last night, so I'm no longer really sure what was wrong with her. It had rained on and off all night and I hadn't slept well, because I still lack complete confidence in the Hexamid, even though it has gamely weathered several storms so far. Got ready to go by 7 and from there it was more or less a straight 15-mile shot down to town along the Eagle Creek trail. After 6 miles I passed the ludicrously cool Tunnel Falls (pictures and maybe even video below) ... Everyone knows about this long before they get there, but it was still even greater, certainly a lot bigger, than I was expecting it to be. The rest of the trail was surprisingly rough underfoot, a problem exacerbated by the fact that my shoes were basically falling apart by today, after 800 miles and a shitload of rain and mud recently. They got tossed in a garbage can at the parking lot/trailhead and I walked the last three miles to town, all on pavement, in my flip-flops, knowing that I had a new pair waiting for me in the mail here.

Talked with section-hikers and sometimes trail angels Jerry and Ruth for the last mile of the non-paved trail, past hordes of day hikers multiplying at zombie-like rates, then came to the road/bike path that leads the rest of the way to Cascade Locks and was in town around 1pm. Found other hikers Simon, G-Bird and Blur at the local pub/pizza joint and devoured most of a 15" "Pizza of the Gods" by myself, with them present for occasional conversation when my mouth wasn't full. Afterward, made my way over to the residence of Shrek, a great local trail angel, and established myself in his backyard for much of the rest of the day. Initially only Otter and a helper named John were around, then Shrek himself came out, then Donkey (last seen at the Saufleys', mile 454), then a few others who had slackpacked today, then Sherpa C who had made it in and out of Portland in the afternoon. We mostly sat and chucked the crap all through the afternoon and evening, and around 10 I turned in for the night. This house and property is clearly a work in progress, because Shrek has only had it for a year and a half and has had to overcome decades of neglect by previous owners, but I share his and Donkey's optimism that it could become an all-time classic hiker hangout. The setting is so ideal--a two-minute walk from the store and PO, a terraced backyard perfect for camping, Cascade Locks where everyone is excited about a state border--that I hope it keeps building up in popularity and facilities for the next few years. It already has easily the best hiker box on trail, bolstered today when a guy named Train who has just abandoned his CDT thru-hike attempt came by and dropped off literally weeks of his pre-purchased, pre-rationed foodstuffs.

Tomorrow I'll end up some distance into Washington, but it's hard to say more than that.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kaZ3pXnFNeM

Day 117: Thursday, August 29

Tenting at the intersection of the PCT and the Eagle Creek Alternate (PCT mi 2138.1), walked 30.6 miles today

Woke up at 6 because the wind had shifted directions and was blowing a brisk easterly straight into my tent. As I was packing up, Sherpa came by with hot coffees that he'd already gone down to the Lodge and purchased for the hikers camped up above. Stand-up guy, that Sherpa C. Veins veritably coursing with caffeine, I set off on the PCT around 7 ready for absolutely any weather that the heavens wanted to throw at me ... Dark clouds were already brooding overhead and the many forecasts I'd read (for towns lower in elevation) called for scary-sounding things like "100% chance of precipitation" and "half an inch of rain possible." At around 9am, I did experience the most intense cloudburst I've seen since summer Arb Crew in Minnesota--I was right on a very exposed point above a glacial valley, watching cloud-to-ground lightning below, and in the process of refinding lost trail (so, the wrong place to be) when hail and rain came and drenched me for about a minute straight, and then went away.

After that, the skies were never really a problem the rest of the day and, though it stayed grey and foggy, there was never any hard or wind-driven rain, just patches of drizzle. Had to ford a creek around 10am for the first time since the Sierra, up to my thighs with nice refreshing glacier water. There were a half-dozen non-thru-hikers on the shore either taking off or putting back on their shoes, so I showed them how it's done by charging right in. No hesitation, baby! I was born ready! Not long after, I made a side trip to the splendid Ramona Falls, which is the Pacific Northwest at its best ... While I complain nearly constantly about the rain here (as my long-suffering girlfriend can attest), sometimes it takes what would already be a nice scene and makes it absolutely perfect. That was Ramona Falls today ... the falls just wouldn't look right with a sunny sky above them--better a dark, dripping copse of trees.

Ended up walking the first 22 or so miles without a single sit-down break, so conducive was the weather to hiking. Every few hours I stopped to change up layers or put a little more food in arm's reach on the outside of my pack, but otherwise I was on the move nonstop. Eventually I caught up to Sherpa, as well as Kent and Lisa, a funny older couple I knew to be in the area, and we busted out the last 8 miles to this camping area at the start of the Eagle Creek trail, which pretty much every single hiker takes instead of the real PCT down into the Columbia Gorge and Cascade Locks. We lucked out and were able to get set up and even eat dinner without rain falling on us. During dinner, Sherpa and I hung down with some cool other hikers from Portland/Long Island, whose names I never got, but they might be reading this blog (hey guys!). There's also an older couple within earshot, and the woman has to be drunk. Her husband has repeatedly reminded her of the proximity of all the other campers, but she's having some volume issues. I could not master the Hexamid Solo this evening for whatever reason, so it's pitched in a saggy and quite exposed position, and if the rain ever becomes wind-driven over the course of the night I could have some issues, but that hasn't been the pattern of the weather so far today so I think I'm okay. Tomorrow--to Cascade Locks, and beyond!

Day 116: Wednesday, August 28

Tenting a stone's throw from Timberline Lodge (PCT mi 2107.6), walked 3.9 miles today

Spit Walker yelled something about "It's Timberline breakfast time, get up!" as he walked by my tent at 6:30 to wake me up. I ended up packing up fast and beating him there anyway ... The morning was a four-mile climb that culminated with some spectacular views of Mt. Hood, seen below. By 8:30 I was at the Lodge and made a beeline for the breakfast buffet, and the hype was real. Everything at the buffet was very swanky and very delicious--my final total came to two Belgian waffles topped with cream and berries and chocolate, two cups of yogurt, three fills of coffee, four biscuits with gravy, a bit of potato scramble with salsa, one slice of ham frittata, and a sausage patty. Spit Walker joined me after my first plate and Stumblin' Beef and Sherpa C soon followed in.

After the repast I repaired to the sofas in the main area of the lodge to do a bunch of phone/internet errands, including a lot of work on my notes for Yogi's guide, then around 1pm the other three returned to the Lodge (from Beef's top secret campsite 100 yards uphill of it), decreeing it was time for lunch. So after a bit of rice pilaf, teriyaki-glazed salmon, tri-tip steak, pork roast, roasted veggies, basil-garnished mozzarella slices, tomato-basil soup, pint of Mt. Hood Amber Ale, peanut butter cookies and a chocolate cupcake, I was rather full. I was in a food coma for another few hours, during which I should've either left to keep hiking or fallen asleep, but instead I did neither and idled around the Lodge with any one of the dozen or so hikers who had floated in throughout the day. Tried to leave and go hike at least 6 miles or something around 4pm, but my body wasn't up to it; it was too sleepy. Stuck thus in limbo, I pitched my tent up by the others and lay down, but there was still too much to interest my brain and I called home and read a few hiker blogs on the phone and then went back into the lodge one last time for a nip at the bar. One overpriced and underwhelming dark & stormy later, I was done with the lodge and other people and ready to crash. I did have one last nice sitting session with the other three, plus two locals we met and eventually an older couple from Northern Virginia, on the back patio looking up at the mountain in all its sublimity. Then I got back to my tent, and I'm going to bed at 8:30 and getting up tomorrow and doing a bazillion miles, even and especially if it's raining on me, as the forecast predicts will happen.

Day 115: Tuesday, August 27

Tenting at the first flat spot after Barlow Pass (PCT mi 2103.7), walked 30.1 miles today

Woke up at 6:30 and the very first sight my eyes beheld, aside from the time on my watch, was Spit Walker's bare ass bent over 10 yards from my tent as he changed into his hiking shorts for the day. A portentous start. Walked the first 9 miles without even knowing it, catching up to and passing Banana Ripper and Songbird in the process, then took a snack break at a horse camp where I was told, in not the friendliest tone, that this was supposed to be a camp for horses and their owners only. I took it upon myself to shit in one of their outhouses and then moved on. The next 10 miles after that also flew by ... If I thought yesterday's trail was easy, then today's was playing with blocks in preschool or something. Flat and/or downhill at about a 1% grade for 12 miles at least. Somewhere in there was the side trail to Little Crater Lake, which I decided quite quickly wasn't real and someone was just playing a joke on me. They must dump a gallon of blue food coloring in it every few days and have a generator-powered fridge somewhere at the bottom to keep it 34 degrees, then dream up a phony geological explanation complete with mumbo-jumbo like "faults" and "Artesian springs."

The trail snapped out of its slumber after 18 miles or so and took us up on a very toothless climb toward the euphonious Wapinitia Pass and U.S. 26, which is one of the best U.S. highways in my opinion. Given its proximity to Portland and relatively high traffic volume, I was hoping for trail magic and for once I was not disappointed. Across the road, two employees of Next Adventure, an outdoor retailer in Portland, were cooking up burgers and handing out Gatorade, PBRs, and sundry snacks to the PCTers passing through. Had two beers and two burgers myself as most of the day's crowd, including Berkeley Bill (last spotted at Ziggy and Bear's house, mile 210, nearly 2000 miles ago), trickled in. The next 4.5 miles to Barlow Pass I walked with Sherpa C and later Mr. Stumblin' Beef, then after that road we started to climb a bit more seriously and midst the gloaming, which now arrives between 8 and 8:15, I descried a lone flat tentsite after a mile. This puts me 4 miles from Timberline Lodge and the exhibition of unbridled gluttony that I'm surely going to witness and partake in tomorrow. We talked to some southbounders a few hours ago and Stumblin' Beef stated his desire to eat until he vomits, then one of the sobos mentioned that she herself had vomited from the lunch buffet today. So this is going to get stupid, like Mac Dre. G'night.

Day 114: Monday, August 26

Tenting by the Warm Springs River (PCT mi 2073.7), walked 26.8 miles today

Woke up to threatening clouds outside, but no real rain just yet. Took awhile to get packed up due to low motivation and high dampness of nearly every piece of gear, but eventually got hiking around 8. There were only sprinkles of rain throughout the morning ... At 10, made it to the Olallie Lake Resort, which has a store that, judging by the paucity of car campers around and the remoteness of the location, probably does a good chunk of its business with PCT hikers. Consequently, they were extremely friendly to us (me, Spit Walker, Sherpa C, PDX Pete) ... I bought myself a cup of coffee and a box of Oreos and went to town on those out on the porch. After half an hour or so, an employee named Sam showed up, and she invited us to her "secret hiker box" room, which comprised some storage space out back that had fresh fruit, cookies, milk, and random other goodies available for PCTers to take at will. So Olallie Lake is going to get an enthusiastic recommendation from me and probably many other hikers in the next edition of Yogi's guidebook.

After Olallie Lake, it's hard to express how easily we cruised along for the next 20 miles. I left there at 11:30 and was here at camp by 6:30, and the same was true for the other two, Spit Walker and Sherpa C ... Spit Walker himself usually averages about 20 per day total. The sun came out around 1pm and stuck around for good this time, and the temperature was about perfect at 75 as we rolled mostly downhill for the afternoon. Spirits were greatly buoyed by this turn of events. About 15 of those 20 miles were with them ... They've started calling me Square Scrub because I don't partake in weed, tobacco or caffeine on the trail, while they are enthusiasts for all three. We all got to this site around the same time in the evening and Stumblin' Beef, whom I hadn't really seen since Red's Meadow (mile 909) was also about. The four of us hung out for dinnertime and devised a plan to possibly double up on Timberline Lodge's legendary AYCE buffets, breakfast and lunch, on Wednesday. Tomorrow we just have to do enough miles to get to within striking distance.