I loved today! It was wonderful. It started with a rich, moist, doughy cinnamon roll slathered in cream cheese frosting. I managed to not even touch my sleeping bag with my sticky fingers! There was a little bit of rain and wet brush in the morning's 10 miles, but there was also one pit latrine and two outhouses.
After lunch (during which we were rained on while directly under blue sky), we climbed up to Cutthroat Pass, into an open sub-alpine ecosystem, allowing us breathtaking views of the amazing mountains surrounding us. The plants are now nature's own fireworks, with rich magenta blueberry leaves, appropriately colored berries, green plants of all sorts from dark to bright, orange and red maple leaves, and yellow larch. I thought, "What's killing all these pine/spruce/fir trees?" until Microburst explained to me that larch aren't evergreens.
The scenery was so gorgeous and the weather so pleasant, that the afternoon was not a struggle for me. Since Sweet 16's sister-in-law is picking us up midday on the 29th, there's no need to rush to Canada, and there are known camping spots conveniently every 23 miles until there, we get to enjoy this last section of the PCT at a relaxed pace. I didn't need to fret, stress, or push to get in to camp an hour before dark.
The sheer magnitude of what we've done and how close we are to being done had definitely hit Micro and 16 by the time we got to Stehekin, though I was feeling decidedly unphased. I am still feeling quite underwhelmed at the moment, but now that we are on the same page-spread as THE END of the PCT, 100 pages into the data book, I'm starting to get excited.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Mile 2574.1: into Stehekin
A beautiful day. Last night's dusting of snow on the mountain tops brought sharp relief to the texture of the jagged rock, and I was out of the tent early enough to see all the peaks turn rosy pink and orange as the sun rose. The trail followed the walls of a canyon, into two glacial bowls bursting with fall color, and into thick, lush forest. It was beautiful, and very easy, all downhill. The weather messed with me a little bit, it changed every time I finally stopped being stubborn and changed to adapt to IT.
Since today was a town day, it was every woman for herself. Sweet 16, with her 3+ mile headstart, made it just in time for the noon shuttle, Micro got there at 1-something and hitched a ride from a local. Her old town guide had said the shuttle ran every two hours, starting at 8 and ending at 6. It turns out the schedule is changed quite often, I got there right after the 3:00 shuttle departed, almost three hours until the next and final run. I had to work really hard to put on a good attitude, be happy for the opportunity to read and journal without any town distractions. Right when I had settled into writing, the park ranger had to run into town and offered me a lift. Yay! So thankful.
In town, there was no cell phone service, I just wandered around to businesses asking if they had a message for me from two other girls. The cashier at the general store said "yes" and handed me a sticky note with directions to the room they had rented for us in the lodge. Micro was taking a shower and couldn't hear my banging on the door, so I dropped my stuff and continued to wander.
I misjudged my caloric needs for this last section. I rationed so I never ran out of food, but I was never full. This last day, my calories consisted of my breakfast and a huge halvah roll. I was starving by the time I got into town at four, and the bakery was closed.
I knew that thoughtful Microburst would have foreseen this turn of events and would have bought me an extra goodie. With our plans for celebration and me not immediately shoving pastries down my gullet upon walkin into the hotel room, the treats became our munchy-food to share when we were drunk later. It was ok, I could handle the hunger as long as I didn't let low blood sugar make me cranky. Once the three of us were all showered, we'd eat dinner, then drink and do laundry, right? Wrong. Laundry, which always takes longer than we expect, was to take place before the last possible seating time at the restaurant so we could eat in clean clothes. By our 7:30 reservation, I was barely keeping it together (more stupid than snappy), and by 8:00, the restaurant realized that a huge party was taking too long and asked us waiting hikers (now including Ann, Tradja, Swipe, and their CDT friend Skittles) to take our food to-go. Tradja and Swipe said they can do to-go orders, but since they were camping in the wet and paying full-price for food, they wanted to eat inside. Our small-looking portions of food was served in quick-cooling clamshell boxes, we had to specially ask for things like drinks, condiments, and dessert. It was a very disappointed experience since we were paying so much. Hikers got the shit end of the stick there.
We didn't get drunk to celebrate, instead we split a cinnamon roll and crashed in our tiny but spendy inn room.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Since today was a town day, it was every woman for herself. Sweet 16, with her 3+ mile headstart, made it just in time for the noon shuttle, Micro got there at 1-something and hitched a ride from a local. Her old town guide had said the shuttle ran every two hours, starting at 8 and ending at 6. It turns out the schedule is changed quite often, I got there right after the 3:00 shuttle departed, almost three hours until the next and final run. I had to work really hard to put on a good attitude, be happy for the opportunity to read and journal without any town distractions. Right when I had settled into writing, the park ranger had to run into town and offered me a lift. Yay! So thankful.
In town, there was no cell phone service, I just wandered around to businesses asking if they had a message for me from two other girls. The cashier at the general store said "yes" and handed me a sticky note with directions to the room they had rented for us in the lodge. Micro was taking a shower and couldn't hear my banging on the door, so I dropped my stuff and continued to wander.
I misjudged my caloric needs for this last section. I rationed so I never ran out of food, but I was never full. This last day, my calories consisted of my breakfast and a huge halvah roll. I was starving by the time I got into town at four, and the bakery was closed.
I knew that thoughtful Microburst would have foreseen this turn of events and would have bought me an extra goodie. With our plans for celebration and me not immediately shoving pastries down my gullet upon walkin into the hotel room, the treats became our munchy-food to share when we were drunk later. It was ok, I could handle the hunger as long as I didn't let low blood sugar make me cranky. Once the three of us were all showered, we'd eat dinner, then drink and do laundry, right? Wrong. Laundry, which always takes longer than we expect, was to take place before the last possible seating time at the restaurant so we could eat in clean clothes. By our 7:30 reservation, I was barely keeping it together (more stupid than snappy), and by 8:00, the restaurant realized that a huge party was taking too long and asked us waiting hikers (now including Ann, Tradja, Swipe, and their CDT friend Skittles) to take our food to-go. Tradja and Swipe said they can do to-go orders, but since they were camping in the wet and paying full-price for food, they wanted to eat inside. Our small-looking portions of food was served in quick-cooling clamshell boxes, we had to specially ask for things like drinks, condiments, and dessert. It was a very disappointed experience since we were paying so much. Hikers got the shit end of the stick there.
We didn't get drunk to celebrate, instead we split a cinnamon roll and crashed in our tiny but spendy inn room.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 2556.8: Suiattle River, Suiattle Pass
From about 7:30 am til 2 pm, I had but one focus: reconstructing the children's rhyme that follows, word by word backwards as the melody played incessantly through my head:
Little bunny FuFu,
Hoppin' through the forest,
Scooping up the field mice,
And boppin' 'em on the heads
Along came (somebody who think's she's somebody), and says:
Little Bunny FuFu
I don't want to see you,
Scoopin' up the field mice,
And boppin' 'em on the heads
I don't remember exactly what follows, but I like to imagine that the plot thickens as little bunny FuFu debates the moral implications of scooping up field mice and bopping them on the heads. Is it a traged or comedy? I'll have to ask my 3 (4?)-yr old littlest sister how it ends. Maybe it's like other old nursery rhymes, sinister, morbid, or hiding sexual entendre.
The reason this song was stuck in my head is that we had mice in our tent last night, and I wouldn't have minded if little bunny FuFu popped in for some head-bopping. The mice ate a hole through my bagel bag and the colorful part off my book. They also left lots of droppings all over the TOP of my sleeping bag, and one got inside Micro's bug bivy net, realized it was trapped, and went berserk. As soon as I put 2-and-2 together with the horrible night's sleep, droppings, food, and mystery noises, I had "hmm hmm hmm hmm, lala la la lala, something something, bop 'em on the heads!" stuck.
We began the day with a 2.5 mile climb up brushy switchbacks to the ridge where Sweet 16 slept, and we missed her by 15 minutes. It snowed a tiny bit on us as we wound our way through some alpine tundra and a glacial bowl, and then we started dropping elevation through forest. We ate lunch one creek crossing early, once again missing 16, and got to the Suiattle River.
We've been hearing all about the Suiattle for weeks now. As advertised, there was a log going clear across the river about 300 feet upstream. Micro and I, both excellent at imagining the worst that could happen, both got a little shaky looking at the churning, milky water rushing past, but we put one foot in front of the other and crossed completely dry and unharmed.
In October 2003, a massive storm caused flooding that took out a whole bunch of bridges along this section of the PCT. Thanks to the stimulus package, all but one of them have been rebuilt. This last one was the Suiattle. It's easy to see why this has been left unbridged the longest. Looking at the channel, it's hard to imagine the scale of the flooding that formed it and littered it with huge tree debris. To build a bridge that would be unscathed by that sort of flooding would have to be HUGE (really high up and long to make the span) or SUPER burly.
Then came the fun part, that nobody told us about: a 7.4 mile, 3130' climb up to Suiattle Pass. It wasn't difficult, the trail was at a really gentle, mellow grade, but goodness me it was long. It was also completely viewless
- Typoed on my iPhone
Little bunny FuFu,
Hoppin' through the forest,
Scooping up the field mice,
And boppin' 'em on the heads
Along came (somebody who think's she's somebody), and says:
Little Bunny FuFu
I don't want to see you,
Scoopin' up the field mice,
And boppin' 'em on the heads
I don't remember exactly what follows, but I like to imagine that the plot thickens as little bunny FuFu debates the moral implications of scooping up field mice and bopping them on the heads. Is it a traged or comedy? I'll have to ask my 3 (4?)-yr old littlest sister how it ends. Maybe it's like other old nursery rhymes, sinister, morbid, or hiding sexual entendre.
The reason this song was stuck in my head is that we had mice in our tent last night, and I wouldn't have minded if little bunny FuFu popped in for some head-bopping. The mice ate a hole through my bagel bag and the colorful part off my book. They also left lots of droppings all over the TOP of my sleeping bag, and one got inside Micro's bug bivy net, realized it was trapped, and went berserk. As soon as I put 2-and-2 together with the horrible night's sleep, droppings, food, and mystery noises, I had "hmm hmm hmm hmm, lala la la lala, something something, bop 'em on the heads!" stuck.
We began the day with a 2.5 mile climb up brushy switchbacks to the ridge where Sweet 16 slept, and we missed her by 15 minutes. It snowed a tiny bit on us as we wound our way through some alpine tundra and a glacial bowl, and then we started dropping elevation through forest. We ate lunch one creek crossing early, once again missing 16, and got to the Suiattle River.
We've been hearing all about the Suiattle for weeks now. As advertised, there was a log going clear across the river about 300 feet upstream. Micro and I, both excellent at imagining the worst that could happen, both got a little shaky looking at the churning, milky water rushing past, but we put one foot in front of the other and crossed completely dry and unharmed.
In October 2003, a massive storm caused flooding that took out a whole bunch of bridges along this section of the PCT. Thanks to the stimulus package, all but one of them have been rebuilt. This last one was the Suiattle. It's easy to see why this has been left unbridged the longest. Looking at the channel, it's hard to imagine the scale of the flooding that formed it and littered it with huge tree debris. To build a bridge that would be unscathed by that sort of flooding would have to be HUGE (really high up and long to make the span) or SUPER burly.
Then came the fun part, that nobody told us about: a 7.4 mile, 3130' climb up to Suiattle Pass. It wasn't difficult, the trail was at a really gentle, mellow grade, but goodness me it was long. It was also completely viewless
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 2534.8: Camera lickin' good fun
I suppose that this journal entry, like all my other journal entries, should describe parts of my day in fine detail while missing the big picture. Instead, I start with a list, by way of explanation for the odd title.
Questionable Things I Have Eaten:
-Numerous bits of candy, nuts, or dried fruit found on the trail, unwrapped, and dropped by a complete stranger.
-My own food, dropped in mud, prepared in a dirty pot, or retrieved with black fingers.
-Soggy candybars, sandwiches, and other things that should not be soggy.
-A ham-cheddar-taco sauce-English muffin sandwich and chocolate milk, made of perishable ingredients found in a cooler on the side of the trail with no explanation or ice.
-a him-bao (sp?) roll, already baked, found in a bag of other him-bao rolls abandoned on the side of the trail. When first bought, these rolls are just raw dough with raw pork stuffed inside. Based on the texture of a chunk that I spat out, these rolls were not thoroughly cooked. Sweet 16 and I each polished one off anyway.
-The remnants of a (an?) FRS energy chew that Micro had given me and I had stowed in my camera pocket. There was rain, I was drenched, and the candy dissolved in the pocket. Now every time I pull out my camera, I also lick the screen, hoping for a caffeine buzz.
Today was a beautiful day, making up for our miserable first day out. I got an early start and had the morning to myself, it was glorious. After a long traverse through several saddles to Red's Pass, I had to stop and gawk at the amazing views of Glacier Peak, alpine tundra in fall colors, snowfields, and rock. I yelled to the sky, "I am so happy right now! There is no place I'd rather be!"
The day continued on through a really long walk in the woods, a long lunch break spent drying our frosty gear in the sun, a climb up to another pass, and a long, switchbacky descent to Milk Creek. At this point, Sweet 16 continued on up 2 miles more switchbacks to a ridgetop campsite, and Micro and I set up camp on the bridge because it was already dark, I was crying from low blood sugar, and we figured 16 could use the alone time. After 8, Tradja and Swipe joined us, also hoping to find camping adjacent to Milk Creek, and resigned to bridge camping.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Questionable Things I Have Eaten:
-Numerous bits of candy, nuts, or dried fruit found on the trail, unwrapped, and dropped by a complete stranger.
-My own food, dropped in mud, prepared in a dirty pot, or retrieved with black fingers.
-Soggy candybars, sandwiches, and other things that should not be soggy.
-A ham-cheddar-taco sauce-English muffin sandwich and chocolate milk, made of perishable ingredients found in a cooler on the side of the trail with no explanation or ice.
-a him-bao (sp?) roll, already baked, found in a bag of other him-bao rolls abandoned on the side of the trail. When first bought, these rolls are just raw dough with raw pork stuffed inside. Based on the texture of a chunk that I spat out, these rolls were not thoroughly cooked. Sweet 16 and I each polished one off anyway.
-The remnants of a (an?) FRS energy chew that Micro had given me and I had stowed in my camera pocket. There was rain, I was drenched, and the candy dissolved in the pocket. Now every time I pull out my camera, I also lick the screen, hoping for a caffeine buzz.
Today was a beautiful day, making up for our miserable first day out. I got an early start and had the morning to myself, it was glorious. After a long traverse through several saddles to Red's Pass, I had to stop and gawk at the amazing views of Glacier Peak, alpine tundra in fall colors, snowfields, and rock. I yelled to the sky, "I am so happy right now! There is no place I'd rather be!"
The day continued on through a really long walk in the woods, a long lunch break spent drying our frosty gear in the sun, a climb up to another pass, and a long, switchbacky descent to Milk Creek. At this point, Sweet 16 continued on up 2 miles more switchbacks to a ridgetop campsite, and Micro and I set up camp on the bridge because it was already dark, I was crying from low blood sugar, and we figured 16 could use the alone time. After 8, Tradja and Swipe joined us, also hoping to find camping adjacent to Milk Creek, and resigned to bridge camping.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 2511.9ish: alpine tundra
Although the rain and the clouds cleared away by morning, it was still very cold, and all my stuff was still very wet, and therefore, I was miserable with a good view. That's how I know I'm ready to be done- I wake up in the morning to a spectacular array of mountains in riotous fall color, dusted with snow, and I think, "(F), I hope we don't go over there." That and I spent most of yesterday afternoon and this morning not at all "in the moment" but instead, trying to recreate, in detail, the plot and scenes from Disney's Beauty and the Beast.
It was beautiful today though. It looked like blueberry picking in Alaska with plants on 'roids. I was able to appreciate this after two hours of hiking when I finally warmed up and saw that we were not about to hit snowline. We laid out our stuff to dry at lunch, which was semi-effective; though it was sunny, it was also still quite cold, and the saturated forest was steaming itself as it dried.
- Typoed on my iPhone
It was beautiful today though. It looked like blueberry picking in Alaska with plants on 'roids. I was able to appreciate this after two hours of hiking when I finally warmed up and saw that we were not about to hit snowline. We laid out our stuff to dry at lunch, which was semi-effective; though it was sunny, it was also still quite cold, and the saturated forest was steaming itself as it dried.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Mile 2491.9: cold, wet, and miserable
Miserable day. I've been cold and wet ever since we started hiking. Rather than the kinder fluctuations between sunny and sprinkling, the weather switched between drizzle and downpour. My rain gear is old, and apparently has lost it's waterproofing. I started coming up with names for my cold hands as they lost dexterity, such as Ricky Retardo and Dreadful Spiller. I couldn't light the stove to make hot cocoa, Micro had to do it for me.
- Typoed on my iPhone
- Typoed on my iPhone
Monday, September 20, 2010
Mile 2476.3: Stevens Pass shortcut, solo resupply in Faux-Bavaria
Paparazzi, Ghettoblast, Firehose, and Snacks (and more?) joined us after even Micro and I were holed up in our tents. Somehow, Micro and I managed to escape mice again while they attacked all of our camping compadres. The downpour fell equally on all of us though. Unfortunately, Nonstop and Maybelline's tent is now a complete P.O.S. and they spent the last two nights cold, wet, miserable, and covered in mice. The new theory is that Micro and I ARE the mice, we just morph in the middle of the night so we can eat other hiker's food.
We took a shortcut to the highway, cutting off 10 miles. Oh yeah! Damn it feels good to be a gangsta. Micro went west toward Skykomish, Baring, and the trail angel family known as the Dinsmores to relax, resupply, etc. I headed east to Leavenworth. I needed a new sleeping pad after the nozzle on mine gave up the ghost this morning. I was picked up by a super-nice woman with no sense of smell who owned a backcountry ski guiding company with her husband. The drive was long, but we held a super-good conversation. The town was crazy, all the storefronts are embellished to look like that kind of construction.
I got my sleeping pad, resupplied at the Safeway (the [S] cute-sie-used too), and tried to hitch back out of town. My chances seemed more and more dismal, until a woman who lives along the highway offered to take me as far as her house and let me sleep in her yard if I couldn't get a hitch before dark, which I couldn't. She fed me dinner and let me take a shower. Now I'm stretched out on the floor of her shop, next to our tent set up to dry, and evrytging else wet I own.
- Typoed on my iPhone
We took a shortcut to the highway, cutting off 10 miles. Oh yeah! Damn it feels good to be a gangsta. Micro went west toward Skykomish, Baring, and the trail angel family known as the Dinsmores to relax, resupply, etc. I headed east to Leavenworth. I needed a new sleeping pad after the nozzle on mine gave up the ghost this morning. I was picked up by a super-nice woman with no sense of smell who owned a backcountry ski guiding company with her husband. The drive was long, but we held a super-good conversation. The town was crazy, all the storefronts are embellished to look like that kind of construction.
I got my sleeping pad, resupplied at the Safeway (the [S] cute-sie-used too), and tried to hitch back out of town. My chances seemed more and more dismal, until a woman who lives along the highway offered to take me as far as her house and let me sleep in her yard if I couldn't get a hitch before dark, which I couldn't. She fed me dinner and let me take a shower. Now I'm stretched out on the floor of her shop, next to our tent set up to dry, and evrytging else wet I own.
- Typoed on my iPhone
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