Day 135: Mile 2119.4 - 2139.6

The day before yesterday it was misty and rainy, cold and wet and windy as I climbed up to Timberline Lodge. Yesterday it started cold and misty, but cleared by mid--afternoon. Today it was outright hot.

No, I don't understand the weather either. But hot I'll take: hot I understand.

Today I was alone. Going into Cascade Locks, there's a popular alternate: the Eagle Creek Trail. Almost everybody takes it: it's full of waterfalls, including the famous Tunnel Falls where you can evidently walk *behind* the waterfall. It sounds like a magical mystical type of trail, and it's slightly shorter--by about 4 miles--than the PCT proper.

So I'm not taking it.

No, I'm taking the dead common, boring PCT. Instead of stunning sparkling waterfalls, I get Wahtum Lake, which in its defense did have some day-visitors paddle-boarding and canoeing on the lake, and it was fun to watch the folks on the shore call out to the boaters, even if it was in Spanish so I didn't know at all what they were saying. But, yeah, it's a *lake*.

Why am I skipping Eagle Creek? Because of something that Double Snacks said: she said, if you hike Eagle Creek, you'll never want to hike the PCT. It's just that much more beautiful. Well, that means this is my chance *to* hike the PCT, and if I come back I can hike Eagle Creek--Eagle Creek will be a more compelling reason *to* come back. So the PCT proper it is!

Double Snacks and Spielberg, of course, went for the Eagle Creek alternate. They also left early--I fell asleep writing last night, so spent the morning catching up on yesterday's blog entry--so by the time I left they were already about an hour ahead. For the morning, the hike was more rolling ups and downs through the woods, with the added wrinkle that there were lots of tree puzzle. *Lots* of tree puzzles. Most could be handled with "over" solutions, either a simple step-over, or a straddle-over, or a side-saddle sit-and-turn a la Double Snacks. And then there were the particularly "fun" ones:

-- There was one where the tree had fallen largely along the trail rather than across it, and at the end, I had to step on a branch that overhung the edge of the trail and so was suspended in the air. Which was "fun".

-- I prefer to go *over* tree puzzles, but there were lots of puzzles that required *under* solutions. I'll often try to do an under-swing on these, where my backpack is swinging underneath me and I'm grabbing ahold of branch-stubs with my hands, hugging the trunk above. When that doesn't work, I'll resort to a duck walk, but I'm bad at that and my knees complain. For a couple of these today, though, I had to resort to "take off the backpack, go under unemcumbered, drag the backpack under, then put the backpack back on". Those are "fun".

-- There was one puzzle where I opted to go around downhill (because it was too high for over, and too scrambled for under). And there was a clear, albeit steep, path going downhill and around. Only when I got to the around part, I found a mess of branches that I could barely thread with my pack on (and would have been hard to navigate even with my pack off!), which I barely managed to slowly pick my way through, then had to climb with hands pulling up to get up the steep other side, while again trying to keep my pack from getting snagged on above branches. This one was also "fun", and I kept getting stuck, having to back up a bit, then try again.

In general, I will say that tree puzzles are easier if your hands are free, so I'll often toss my trekking poles over to the other side before starting. Oh, and always *test* before go: on the previous puzzle, to climb up I needed to grab onto something and pull myself up, and there were all these rocks in the soil above, but the first handful or so I tried all came off in my hand. Finally I managed to find one embedded firmly in the dirt, I tested by pulling it at a couple of different angles, then satisfied, used it as an anchor point to pull myself up with both hands. But always always *test*!

Just as the morning tree puzzles were finishing, along a ridge trail in the sun, I bumped into a SOBO hiker who said, hey, how's it going? I saw Double Snacks a bit ago; how's AC/DC? And this started a long conversation with Nico, who had camped with us back before South Lake Tahoe, at the ledge-like campsite overlooking the airport. He had gotten to Truckee and decided to flip, so had gone up and touched the Northern Terminus and was now heading south. He had finished Washington--it had taken him 31 days--and now was starting into Oregon. He was hopeful that the fires would be out in northern California by the time he reached there, but realistic that he might be ending his trip in Ashland (i.e., at the California/Oregon border). Anyway, we spoke for quite a while, me getting as much intel as possible on Washington. Here's what I got:

-- Washington is steep, much steeper than even the Sierras if you compare the average slopes. The trails are largely well groomed and wide, usually dirt and loamy, but then they break into rock towards the tops of climbs and the footing gets tricky. Overall, the hiking is tough.

-- He averaged 18.5 miles a day, 16.5 if you count zeros. Usually he would do 23-25 miles on a full day, but there were neros in there bringing down the average. With that, he took 31 days to go through Washington.

-- Towards the Northern Terminus, it's going to be cold and wet and there's nothing for it. He was there in August and it was like that.

-- He did get caught in one storm that lasted for three days. Cold and wet and miserable for three days. But he shrugged: he got through it.

-- There's a strategy for the Northern Terminus: about 15 miles away, there's a "base camp" where you can try to camp and then slack-pack the next day to the Terminus and back. Sure, it's 30 miles, but he was doing 25 max in the desert, and he was able to do it: left at 5:30am, made it back to camp at 6:30pm. There's just a lot of up and down those last 15 miles, and if you can do it without the weight of your pack, it'll be a lot easier and go a lot faster!

-- Make-sure make-sure make-sure you have a ride out of Hart's Pass before you get there! There's nothing--absolutely nothing!--out there! It's as remote as all get out, a terribly rutted dirt road that takes over an hour to drive even if it's only 15-17 miles long. It's 3-4 hours from there to Seattle. There won't be hitches from Hart's Pass, though!

-- In general, Washington has very few makeshift campsites--the ground is too slanted and the forest too thick so you can't just walk up to some spot and find a campsite. So you'll be camping in the official Guthooks campsites most of the time. And if you end up camping in an official Campground--and there are many in Washington--be sure to look for toilets: they often have them. So less cathole digging in Washington if you're smart about it. Campsites fill up pretty fast, though, with section hikers, weekend backpackers, families out for a trip, so think about getting them early (although this may have an effect of his going through Washington in August, which is probably prime outdoor season up there). 

-- There's less wind in Washington, almost none in fact.

-- There is rain, though: even in mid-August, he got a stretch of three days of rain. And that was just miserable, but he got through it.

-- I asked if there was any good place to take a zero in Washington, and Nico seemed to agree there was no must-zero-here place. Rather, he said to take zeros as the body needs, and the body will need it: the constant up and down will eventually likely force a zero somewhere. So it's more a see-how-you-feel, rather than plan-to-zero-here, approach in Washington.

-- Oh, if you're going into Trout Lake (I am)--and it's a great spot that he really liked--when you get to the "meadow" about 2 miles out give Gary a call and ask him for a ride. His number's listed on Guthooks.

-- Oh, and for Cascade Locks: you can camp at the park, it's a great deal at $5 (and includes a shower!). Some have complained about the trains going by, but in the four days he was there he didn't have any problems with them. He did say it *is* pretty windy, though, and a couple days it did rain on him, but still, you're used to that be now, he said, shrugging nonchalantly. Oh, and if you need to resupply (I do), consider going to Hood River, the town east of Cascade Locks: it's a $1 bus ride each way, and they have a Walmart and a Safeway, whereas Cascade Locks just has a convenience store. 

Overall, Nico concluded that Washington will be tough--much tougher than Oregon, possibly as tough as the Sierras--but it's doable. The weather will turn bad as you get to Canada not even because of the seasons turning, but just because it *is* bad as you get to Canada. And then he would shrug nonchalantly, in that way that said, you're a thru-hiker, you've been through this before, you know what I mean.

(For my part I did try to help him out on the Oregon stretch. I advised that he could definitely make it to Olallie--he had 5 days of food--and from there likely catch a hitch out. Getting back onto trail, the earliest he could do was Pamelia, but barring that, he could try to get back on at Santiam. Oh, and he should definitely see Three Sisters and the lava fields--those were the highlights of Oregon, as far as I was concerned. Aside from that, I gave some advice on towns like Bend and Ashland.) 

I did end up talking with Nico for quite some time--over an hour I think. I like to think that to some degree it was like the NOBO-SOBO meetings of old that Ron talks about: in the days before the Internet, let alone cell phones and Guthooks, when a NOBO would meet a SOBO they would stop and talk for hours comparing notes on what was ahead. It was a lot of that. And overall I found it both frightening--Washington seems intimidating--but also reassuring--Nico seemed certain that I could finish. And he didn't even seem to feel I was that far behind--he hadn't seen that many NOBOs that he recognized up ahead, so he felt I was pretty securely in the pack. (I'm not so sure of that myself--I think I'm definitely behind a pretty big bubble up ahead.) But it was a good conversation, one of those that ends but then you keep talking, and then it ends again but you still keep talking, and finally it ends!

From there, the rest of the afternoon was a bit of a head-down-fast-hike to make up time. So it went by quickly. But there were some places where I raised my head up and saw a highlight or two:

-- At one point, the trail goes around the peak of Indian Mountain. And this bit--this little probably less than half a mile--was great. Just great. Because for that half mile I was back in SoCal: the trail walks around a pretty much bald peak that's more hill-of-stone than mountain-edifice, and suddenly the view opens up and you can see for miles again, looking down this long valley that courses into the mountains far out north and east. And it felt just like the San Bernardino mountains again, and I was happy! I felt Oregon was giving me just a touch of SoCal, as if to try and appease me--I've said some pretty negative things about it in this blog--on my way out!

-- I did get a bit turned around at the Eagle Creek junction, wandered up a dirt road for a few minutes before doubling back to find the PCT proper. I was paranoid because when I had first walked the PCT proper it looked like I was taking the alternate on Guthooks, and I didn't want to do that. But ultimately my first instinct had been correct, and that *was* the "right" way.

-- I've already talked a bit about Wahtum Lake, but it was a fine lake where I got water, charged some devices, set my ground sheet out to dry, and took lunch. I did get a little lost leaving it, though: wandered up a trail that evidently went up to the road the locals use to visit the lake. A couple of switchbacks up and I was thinking, wait, something is wrong. Luckily, I passed a girl who I had leapfrogged earlier today--I believe she's doing a section of the PCT with a friend--but she said that, yeah, she had taken the wrong turn too, the PCT was actually back down there, where it goes around the lake. I thanked her and headed back down. So here, ultimately, my first instinct had been incorrect, and that was the *wrong* way.

At the end of the day, the trail walks through this burn zone, and that's largely where I'm camped. There are ostensibly three campsites here, although one is very bad: there's a big sign made of sticks in it that says "Look Up". Do so, and you'll see that a tree has snapped but hasn't fallen over yet, rather it's just leaning directly over the site. Only a matter of time before the wind whips through enough that it falls. So don't camp there! Me, I'm camped in the spot next to it, but there's a tree in between so if the snapped part does fall this way, maybe my head will survive thanks to the other tree, I'll just lose my legs? Hey, it's the last campsite before Cascade Locks, and I don't have the daylight or the energy to hike the last 8 miles to Cascade Locks, so here's where I'm making my stand!

Yeah, knock on wood and pray for a calm night!

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Some notes:

-- I did pass the campsite that we had originally been targetting yesterday, about 3 miles further than where we did camp. And I will say that this further site was pretty windy. I mean our site was breezy in the morning--made it colder--but that was positively windy. So I think we made the right choice stopping where we did, even if it was "early".

-- Lots of cross-sticking today. At least that's what I call it: it's what happens when you're walking and you inadvertantly step on a stick and make it lever up. Your other foot then sweeps by and the stick stabs into it. And since you're stepping on the stick, it basically keeps stabbing through the whole swing of your foot. Hurts a lot--the first time it happened in the desert, it was with a pretty substantial stick that wouldn't snap, and I was worried I had torn into my foot and it was bleeding (thankfully, it wasn't). Luckily the sticks here are smaller, but they're also more plentiful--consequence of being in a forest, and being in burned forests to boot--so it happened a few times today. And even with the smaller sticks, it still hurts!

-- Incidentally, in backpack news: today the frame bar on the *other* side popped out of its end cap, so I had *two* poking bars. Luckily, it didn't tear through the end cap like the other one, so it's an easy fix, but reaching back there and feeling two bars ready to rip through the bottom of the bag--that's not a happy feeling!

-- And also incidentally, in shoe news: today I got my first tear in the tops of my Topos. A little tear on the left foot, outside, around where the pinky toe would connect to the foot.

-- Here's a little thru-hiker story: so it's a warm night tonight, meaning the mosquitos have come back out. To protect against them, at dinner I wore my rain jacket with hood up, gloves, long pants. And I was *hot*. And then I cooked up some mashed potatos, only I let the water boil for too long, so now the mashed potatos were too hot to eat, so I'm sitting there, blowing on the mashed potatos to cool them off, in full protective garb, and I'm sweating as I'm trying to down these potatos as fast as possible. Sigh: just a comedy of errors on my part!

-- Here's a trick: if you use a Backpacker's Pantry bag as a cooking bag like I do, you'll notice that you'll start to accumulate stuff inside the bag, like grease and little bits of food, that don't easily come off even with the shake-shake-shake rinse with water. My solution to that?: make mashed potatos in the bag. Mashed potatos absorb *everything*, and they'll clean out the bag in no time!

-- Today's peanut M&M color is green.

-- Camping cohorts: none! It's just me and that widowmaker tree over there...