Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 22. After breakfast, I take a quick swim the pool, then take care of my resupply. Mom’s sent me a gift basket with a bunch of snacks in it, and because I felt short of food on the last section, I add all the snacks to my food bag.
We eat lunch at a market near Sleeping Lady, then drive back up to Stevens Pass. Each time I get back on to the trail after a resupply is harder than the last — it’s hard to give up so much comfort! To make things easier, I do a light day of 10 miles to Janus Lake. That’s the shortest distance I’ve hiked in two weeks.
There are a number of groups camping at Janus Lake. One pair, Dean and Linda, are northbound Washington PCT hikers like me. They’re the first I’ve met in a while. I also chat with a group of three older hikers who have the campsite nearest mine. Finally, there’s a couple [I later learn their names are Adam and Katie] with a very territorial dog. It vigorously defends their little plot of dirt.
Miles today: 10
Total: 327
[These journal entries are the continuation of Jan's hike across Washington on the Pacific Crest Trail, which began in July. If you're reading this in our August newsletter and want to read the entries from the start, you can open our family journal and start reading from July 11.]
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 23. I’m up early, but my neighbors are already on the trail by the time I leave at 7:30. I pass them shortly on an uphill climb. It’s going to be a long 20 mile day today with a fair amount of elevation gain. It also looks like it’s going to rain, and in fact it begins to drizzle. It rains on and off all day and going through the carwash of trailside bushes soaks my shoes.
I stop for lunch at Pear Lake, where Adam and Katie from last night are taking a break as well — along with Luna the Overly Territorial Dog, who emphatically defends the plot of dirt they’re sitting on. It’s pretty cold, so while I don’t usually cook anything at lunchtime, today I make some tea to warm myself up.
There’s more rain all afternoon. I finally get to Lake Sally Ann at 5:00. It’s supposed to be picturesque, but the weather’s so miserable that it’s both hard to tell and hard to care. Two campers nearby, Joey and Kirk, chat for while as I make my dinner. It’s Thai curry night, which is a good meal for a night like this. Down at the lake, I’m filling my water bottles when two women come down to fill their own bottles. The two are part of a family of hikers camped nearby. The older of the two women says she can no longer carry a backpack — so she’s hiking with a donkey, who carries her pack.
Finally, I’m very happy to get into my tent and change out of my wet clothes. I’ve managed to keep the inside of my tent dry, and keep my sleeping quilt dry as well, and so for the first time all day I’m warm.
Miles today: 20
Total: 347
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 24. When I get out of the tent, it’s foggy — or it cloudy, and we’re just up in the clouds? I can’t tell. The sun is supposed to come out today, but while it occasionally peeks out, it never really clears up. Still, there’s a nice moment when the sun pops out while I’m talking with my campsite neighbors, Joey and Kirk. After a day of cold and rain, it feels so deeply healing to stand in the sun. Joey remarks, “I think I finally understand why ancient peoples all worshipped the sun.”
The sun also comes out briefly while I’m sitting down for lunch in White Pass (the second of two passes named “White Pass” in Washington). I’m looking out over a valley, and clouds are rolling in from directly behind me, so the sun keeps going away, then coming back when the cloud has passed.
When I’m done with lunch, I stand up. I hear a whistle — a marmot has seen me, and is whistling to warn other marmots of my presence. A family of marmots (4? 5?) suddenly go running for cover. On the trail a short while later, I can see a tall gray shape up ahead standing by the trail. It looks like a weathered tree stump, but as I get closer, it suddenly moves. It’s a very big and very old marmot.
Occasionally I hear loud booms, which turn out to be a trail crew blasting some rocks on the trail. They’re done blasting by the time I get to their work area, and are busy carting rock rubble off the trail.
The hiking’s pretty easy coming down from Red Pass, but at the valley floor, the trail suddenly turns into a bog. A creek is either overflowed or been rerouted, and now the trail is half water, half mud.
I finally reach the general location of my target campsite at PCT mile marker 2509. There’s a family of three taking a break nearby: an older couple named Tim and Missy, their college-aged daughter Lydia, and their exhausted dog. They say the campsites are just ahead, but it’s hard to see them because of a large number of blowdowns, perhaps 20 trees. Many trees are covering the trail in different directions, and some are covering tent sites, so it’s hard to find either the trail or the sites. None of the unaffected sites are particularly flat. I finally find a flat-ish site, and begin to set up camp. It’s right next to a spur trail that leads to a pit toilet.
A southbound hiker, picking through the blowdowns and searching for the continuation of the PCT, comes through my campsite. She says hello, then says, “Okay, see you!” — and then marches confidently down the spur trail. I yell out that the trail’s she heading down goes to the toilet, and she sheepishly backs up. The PCT’s that way, I point out.
Another family is camped nearby: a grandfather named Roger, his stepson, and the stepson’s teenage son. Roger loves hiking, but can no longer go faster than about 1 mile/hour. Instead of taking the usual one week to do this trail, they’re taking two. That’s a really long time, and means they have to carry a huge amount of food.
Miles today: 18
Total: 364
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 25. The sun comes out for real! The same forest feels completely different when the sun is out: cheerful and friendly, not gloomy and threatening.
In planning out my campsites for this section, I made a bit of an error. Ahead of me are two huge climbs: about 3000’ up to a ridge, then immediately down 3000’ to the bottom of a valley, then back up another 3000’ feet to a second ridge. The valley has no campsites, so I’d need to climb all the way to the second ridge to camp. But 6000’ of elevation gain in a single day would be crazy hard.
So, new plan: hike up the first ridge this morning, then descend a bit to Mica Lake, universally described as “gorgeous”, then stop there for the day. Tackle the second ridge tomorrow, and hike longer the next few days to make up the lost time.
This turns out to be a winner of a plan. I get to Mica Lake at 12:45, and it is indeed gorgeous: a small, clear, icy blue lake in a high alpine basin, with a sweeping view to the east. The view includes a good look at the next ridge — the second one I was originally supposed to climb today. I can see a very long, steep series of switchbacks on the next ridge, and am very glad I’m leaving those for tomorrow.
The family of Tim, Missy, and Lydia is eating lunch when I arrive at the lakeside, so I join them. As they’re leaving, a pair of hikers named Natalie and Hillary arrive. They brave the cold waters for a swim, and eventually inspire me to dive in as well. Above the lake, you can see a large snowfield, and a waterfall leading from the snowfield directly into the lake. So cold! But it’s a hot day, so it actually feels good.
Natalie, Hillary, and I discuss how hikers do things that make total sense while backpacking that would be weird or completely unacceptable in civilized life. Natalie and Hillary have just finished eating a ZipLoc bag of reconstituted hummus. To get every last bit of it, Natalie has turned the bag inside out, and Hillary is licking the last off of the hummus. I point out that this would be pretty weird to see anywhere else.
It’s great to have an entire afternoon to enjoy this place. I nap, read, swim, study, and hang out with the different groups of hikers stopping by. I talk with a German thru-hiker named John, and his sister, Carmen, who’s joining him for the end of his hike. Adam and Katie from a few nights ago appear as well, with Luna the Overly Territorial Dog in tow. As soon as they set down their packs, Luna growls at anyone who walks nearby. Adam and Katie are planning to spend the night at Mica Lake too, so I have company for the rest of the afternoon and evening.
One occasional surprise: fighter jets periodically come flying at high speed around nearby Glacier Peak. It’s odd to be in a wilderness area where machines aren’t allowed, but where jets can come roaring overhead.
Miles today: 9.5
Total: 374
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 26. I wake up just before the sun comes up. I have to get an early start and hike a long day to begin making up for my short day yesterday. I hike down switchbacks to Milk Creek, then start up a steep climb up to Vista Ridge. I pass Hillary and Natalie, who had run out of energy yesterday afternoon and managed to find a campsite somewhere by the creek.
The climb to Vista Ridge goes back and forth over a vertical strip of open ground covered by bushes instead of trees. Back and forth, back and forth goes the trail, and it seems like it’ll never end. I’m passed by a couple of northbound thru-hikers.
I finally reach Vista Ridge, and there are millions of wildflowers in bloom. I’m staring at this bucolic scene when suddenly some fighter jets fly overhead, fast and close — an odd juxtaposition.
The descent from Vista Ridge is easy hiking, but by then my feet are aching. I reach my campsite next to a bridge over the Suiattle River. Most of the rivers the PCT crosses are modest things, but the Suiattle is a seriously wild river. It looks strong enough to whisk away anyone who stepped in, so the solid bridge is a relief.
Miles today: 20
Total: 394
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 27. The morning includes a big climb up from the Suiattle River, but at a very gentle, steady grade, making even the ascent go quickly. The sun’s out, but the temperature is mild.
There’s a notice at the junction with the Buck Creek Pass Trail saying that the side trail is closed because of a forest fire. I’ve been really lucky so far this trip that I haven’t been held back or redirected by any forest fires. Last year there was a terrible fire in this area, and many of the PCT hikers gave up their thru-hikes at this point. I’ve met a few of them this year, hiking this part of the trail so they can finally complete the whole trail.
I eat lunch at Suiattle Pass. While eating, I keep hearing the echo of a screeching bird. It sounds like the sound effect movies always include whenever they show an eagle, so maybe it’s an eagle.
The afternoon includes a long descent down a ridge that never seems to end. There are long stretches of overgrown trail, and it’s tedious to fight through the brush.
While crossing a rocky basin, I meet an older southbound hiker. He has wild gray hair under a leather hat, and when he smiles, I can see that he’s missing a front tooth. He looks like he should be a gold prospector in a movie western.
I arrive at Cedar Camp along Agnes Creek around 5:00. I’ve started to pick my campsites based on how likely it is that other hikers will stop there too, but despite Cedar Camp being big and nice, there’s no one else there. The family of Tim, Missy, and Lydia stops by to say hello, but they keep going.
Miles today: 22 [This will be my longest day on the hike.]
Total: 415
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 28. Today’s the last day of this section, and my goal is to be at a place called High Bridge by 12:30. It’s an easy morning walk down the valley of Agnes Creek, but I’m feeling pretty tired, and feel sluggish on some small climbs as the trail goes up and down. I’m looking forward to the energy that comes from adequate food.
I catch up with Tim, Missy, and Lydia just as I reach High Bridge. It’s a spectacular river. Yesterday I’d been hiking along the creek’s headwaters, so it’s funny to see how big and wild the creek has grown over a day’s walk.
High Bridge has a ranger station, and is at the end of a dirt road that leads to the isolated town of Stehekin, WA. The National Park Service runs a series of bright red shuttle buses between High Bridge and Stehekin, so a crowd is growing of hikers waiting at High Bridge for the next bus into town.
On the 9 miles drive to Stehekin, the bus makes a brief stop at a bakery called the Stehekin Pastry Company. This bakery has managed to establish an almost mythic reputation among PCT hikers. For nearly two thousand miles, thru-hikers will swap stories they’ve heard about how amazing the baker’s pies and cinnamon roles are. The bus driver says he’ll give us all 10 minutes in the bakery, and we all rush out of the bus to make a purchase. I get a cinnamon roll. Frankly, it’s just okay. The bakery’s charming enough, but I think it benefits enormously from the fact that it’s always the first bakery — or first real food of any sort — that any thru-hiker is going to have encountered in days.
The bus arrives at Stehekin Landing, and I check into the little lodge there. Stehekin’s a funky sort of town. It sits at the northwest end of Lake Chelan, and while it has roads, they don’t connect to the outside world. The lodge is the little town’s main gathering point, and the tables on the lodge’s deck are full of both hikers, and tourists that have come up the lake on a ferry. I check into my room, take a shower, and a blessed nap.
My friend Bruce is scheduled to join me here in Stehekin, but his seaplane flight from Seattle has been canceled due to high winds over the Cascades and Lake Chelan. A tiny seaplane company on Lake Chelan has a braver (or more foolhardy) pilot, so Bruce books a flight with that company. There are whitecaps all across the lake, and a windsock is nearly horizontal in the stiff breeze, but the pilot manages to land the plane safely.
It’s great to see Bruce here in this outpost of civilization. We have dinner in the lodge’s restaurant — the only restaurant in town — and have fun catching up.
Miles today: 10
Total: 425
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 29. Bruce and I spend the day kicking around Stehekin. I do my laundry at the town’s tiny laundromat. While I wait, I sit outside on a picnic table and chat with a local resident and a thru-hiker named Pierre. A deer comes up to check us out.
Bruce and I rent bikes and ride up the town’s main road to the bakery. The food is still just okay, but it’s certainly a warm and friendly place to hang out. And it is a treat to enjoy a latte for the first time in weeks.
In the afternoon, we hang out in the lodge’s reading room looking out over the lake. The lodge’s weak satellite Internet connection is too flaky to do anything, so we mostly read. Over the course of the afternoon, dark clouds gather and rain begins to pour. It is so satisfying to be watching the rain out of a building window instead of hiking out in the middle of it.
I move over all the food from the resupply box Bruce brought me to my backpack. Just in time for the last section of the Washington PCT, I’ve finally figured out how much extra food I need to be eating on my hike. My food plan was fine for a week, but while the amount of food is fine (I usually feel full), the number of calories is too low for how much physical work I’m doing (sometimes I feel like I’ve got enough energy). To supplement my meal plan, I go crazy in the small general store with snacks: 4 or 5 pounds of Snickers bars, Clif bars, jerky, and other snacks. My pack feels heavier than it’s ever been before, but as long as I force myself to eat at least an extra snack or two at each meal, and snack more while hiking, I should be okay.
Miles today: ZERO! (Only my second day off in a month of hiking)
Total: 425
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 30. Bruce has seat on the mid-morning seaplane flight back to Chelan. When we see the pilot waiting on the dock, he says Bruce is the only passenger, so Bruce can leave whenever he’s ready. I say goodbye, then check out and wait in the reading room for the 11:30 shuttle bus back up to High Bridge.
The bus stops at the bakery on the way out of town, and once again everyone races to get a lunch to eat on the bus or trail. I’m more excited by the large garden the bus also stops at, where I buy the last fresh fruit (apricots!) I’m going to be able to enjoy until I’m done with the hike.
On the bus, I’m sitting with several other hikers sharing trail stories. The subject turns to animal stories. One section hiker from Oregon named Kate shares a story. It begins this way: “Before I started hiking the PCT, I never thought I would punch a chipmunk.” Like other hikers, she keeps her food bag in her tent. One time when she was away from her tent, a chipmunk ate through the side of her tent and her food bag in order to get at her food. The chipmunk escaped, but later, when she lying down in her tent, the chipmunk returned and began climbing up the outside of the tent. POW! The chipmunk went flying and did not return.
Tim and Missy, the couple I met on the last section, are also on the bus, and are now joined by their extended family. They’re heading up to High Bridge on a day hike. We probably won’t see each other again, so we say farewell.
I’m glad this is the last time I’m getting back on the trail — each time is getting harder, and I’m ready to be done. Just four more nights.
After an hour or so of hiking, I’m passing a stretch of chest-height bushes when I hear the “Snap!” of a thick stick snapping up ahead and to my right. I make a noise to the deer or whatever know that I’m there. About 30 feet away, a large, black, perfect bear head pops straight up out of the bushes. Oh! Sorry, Mr. Bear, didn’t mean to disturb you. The bear looks straight at me for a full second, then the head pokes down again, and he resumes doing whatever he was doing — foraging for berries? — before he heard me. He is completely uninterested in me, so I gingerly walk past. For the next ten minutes, I keep looking over my shoulder.
For the past four weeks I haven’t seen a single bear, but only ten minutes later, the exact same scene plays out a second time: a stick snaps, I make noise, a bear head pops out. The second bear is smaller and brown, and when it sees me, it turns and goes crashing off through the bushes. Once again, I walk gingerly past, and for the next ten minutes, I keep looking over my shoulder.
Later in the afternoon, I come upon a group of about ten teen girls and a young woman leading them. The woman must have taught the girls to step aside to let other hikers past, because as soon as the first girl sees me, she steps aside, and all the girls do the same. As I’m walking by them, I’m stunned to discover that I recognize one of them as a friend of Anya’s. “Cordelia!” I say. Cordelia’s mom had posted on Facebook that her daughter was hiking in the North Cascades, but it’s a big place. It hadn’t occurred to me that we might actually come across each other.
Since I’m now within the bounds of North Cascades National Park, I had to make a reservation for a campsite. My destination for the night is called Hideaway Camp, which turns out to be a small site by a creek. The site includes a pit toilet, which is always a bonus. While I’m eating dinner, in walks Kate, the section hiker and chipmunk puncher. I make a campfire, and we have a good conversation.
As I’m hanging my food bag, I offer to let Kate hang her bag on my line too, but her bag is too heavy. She goes off in search of another tree to hang her bag on. A short while later, she comes back laughing: “Well, I found a decent tree to hang my bag on, but it turns out that now my bag is basically hanging over the pit toilet.” Later I go in search of said toilet, but have trouble finding it in the growing dark. My headlamp finally picks out a food bag hanging from a tree, and sure enough the toilet’s right there. I thank Kate for leaving such a good marker.
Miles today: 13
Total: 438
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 31. I’m up again at sunrise (5:50 am or so) for another long day and a big climb of 3000’ or so to Cutthroat Pass, then Granite Pass, then Methow Pass. I saw goodbye to Kate. Although there’s lots of climbing today, I keep up a good pace to Rainy Pass, the last major highway crossing before the border.
It looks like it might rain today, but luckily the rain holds off. As I’m getting close to the high and exposed Cutthroat Pass, I catch up to two older women. “You’re speeding! Slow down!” they laugh. The view from the pass is beautiful, so I stop to have lunch there on the pass’ east side. The two women eventually catch up and have lunch too, so we chat a bit.
The afternoon’s hiking mostly traverses long ridges, so it’s not too bad. I pass a young woman who wants to section-hike as much of the PCT as she can. This turns out to be the first day of her first section, so I offer as much encouragement as I can.
After Methow Pass, the trail eventually descends back into forest. I pass a Boy Scout troop going on a long hike to get their “50 Miler” award. I eventually reach a campsite by the Methow River and set up camp. After dinner, a Polish northbound thru-hiker named Tom joins me. He sets up his tent quickly and says he’s going to bed, but after I start a fire, he lies down next to the fire and talks.
Miles today: 21
Total: 460
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 32. It’s chilly this morning, and there’s so much dew the trailside bushes form a carwash again. Half an hour after starting out, my feet are soaked again. It’s going to be a warm, sunny day, though, so my shoes will dry out before long.
The trail runs alongside the Methow River for a while, then begins to climb up switchbacks to 7000’. I eat lunch looking out over a valley, sitting in the shade of some (ponderosa?) pines because the sun’s hot now. This part of Washington State feels different than the rest. Someone compared it to Montana.
I come upon a group of 5 hikers helping apply field repairs to the hiking boots that belong to a woman in their party. The group set out this morning, but both of the woman’s boots chose the same time to fall completely apart. The group is lashing the boots back together with duct tape and stitches of dental floss. As I’m talking with them, one of the hikers points out that my own hiking shoes look like they might fall apart, too. They’re fine, I say — they just need to last two more days.
An older couple on a day hike with their two dogs chat for a while. One gives me a heads up that tonight the Perseid meteors arrive and should put on a good show. I say that I’m rarely up past 9:00 pm, but will look for the meteors if I’m up.
I arrive at the ranger station at Harts Pass. This is the last road crossing of any sort before the Canadian border, and the traditional point from which southbound thru-hikers start their journeys. The U.S. won’t let anyone enter the country from Canada via the PCT, so most hikers starting at Harts Pass begin by hiking north 30 miles to the border, touching the border monument, and then hiking south.
At Harts Pass, Tom catches up with me. He’s a faster hiker, but he apparently stops often to take breaks and read a book. I ask him if it’s okay if I join him tonight at the campsite he’s aiming for. It’s a little past my planned site, but has the advantage of having a stream for water. Tom’s fine with that. He seems to want to take another break, so I start out again first.
The trail goes on a long traverse across flower-covered meadows, with a view up to a fire watch tower on a hilltop and, in the middle of nowhere, a green yurt. When I arrive at the designated campsite, it’s nothing special, but there’s a less-used site nearby that has a nice view.
While Tom and I eat, we compare meals. My main course is a version of Indian potato samosas, which is tasty, but doesn’t offer that many calories. Tom’s eating cheaper food in much larger quantities, and is focused purely on the number of calories they deliver. I like my food better, but in retrospect wish I’d had known to plan for more calories.
Several times while we’re eating, we both hear loud noises up on the ridge above. It sounds like rocks are being moved or kicked around by a large animal, but we never get a glimpse of it.
Miles today: 21
Total: 481
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 33. My campsite neighbor Tom gets up and leaves early. I take my time making breakfast while playing some slack key guitar music.
I only have 18 miles to go today, but will have to make significant climbs up several passes. I make it to Rock Pass around noon and have lunch sitting down on the edge of the trail. I can see Woody Pass from here: it’s about the same elevation as the point where I’m sitting.
There’s an old trail that goes straight towards Woody Pass. If I could take that, it’d be easy to get there. But that trail appears to cross an area that’s probably prone to rockslides, so the PCT has been rerouted to make a long series of switchbacks down into a valley, then another long series of switchbacks right back up to Woody Pass. That’s safer, but a lot more work.
Along the way, I pass a woman coming the other way who’s just finished hiking across Washington state. She hiked northbound like me, but unlike me, didn’t a permit to enter Canada via the PCT. So after touching the border, she turned around, and is now heading back to the road at Hart’s Pass.
I finally being the switchbacks up to Woody Pass, but somehow missed the last water source, and I’m low on water. It’s hot again, and I don’t relish the idea of doing this climb with no water. I come to the point where the old PCT route meets the current route, and see that there’s a snowfield a few minutes’ walk along the old PCT. I make a detour and fill my bottle with snow. This lasts me until I finally come to a small stream that’s not on the map.
As I’m climbing a final ridge before Hopkins Lake, I pass a trio of older men with large, old-school packs. They’re going to Hopkins Lake, too. I get to the lake long before they do. There are two clear spots left: a big one next to a small one. I take the small one, and when the three men finally arrive, I tell them I’ve left the big one for them. They’re happy to have the spot, and I’m happy to have neighbors.
There’s just enough time for a dip in Hopkins Lake before the sun sets over far edge of the lake basin. The water’s cold, but it feels great to be clean again. I take a nap and read in my tent while the three men set up camp. They introduce themselves as Tom, Steve, and Denny, all from Portland. Tom’s section-hiking the PCT. He’s finished Oregon, and is now doing Washington. He invited Steve and Denny to join him for this bit of the PCT up to the border and into Canada.
After dinner, I take another short walk down to the lake, and say goodnight to John and his sister Carmen. I met them in the last section, and it’s nice to see them again here near the end. Tomorrow, John will finish his long thru-hike. As we’re saying goodnight, Carmen points out a large buck with huge antlers walks calmly through the area. The deer seems completely undisturbed by the presence of the 10 or so campers in the area.
Steve and Denny are excited about the continuation of the Perseid meteor shower tonight. I wake up after dark to hear them talking back and forth: “There’s one!”, “That’s was big”, etc. I watch from own tent for a while, then get up and walk over to some bushes to use the bathroom.
As I’m returning to my tent, I hear loud crashing in the bushes I’ve just left behind. Something big is coming through them. I dive back into my tent, find my headlamp, then turn around to see what’s coming.
It’s the giant buck that was walking around before nightfall. He’s munching on the leaves where I was just standing. Ah, now I remember: some other hikers had mentioned that the deer in this area are so salt-deprived, they seek out human urine for its salt content. I try to fall back asleep, but the deer spends at least 15 minutes out there stamping around.
Miles today: 18.5
Total: 499
Jan’s WA PCT hike, Day 34. The last day!
When I walk off into the trees to use the bathroom, another deer — a doe — pops her head around a tree. Like the buck from last night, she’s after urine for the salt in it. She starts walking over to me, impatient.
I only have 15 miles to go today, but I’d like to get there before 2:00, so I try to get out on the early side. I enjoy spending some time talking with Tom, Steve, and Denny before leaving. They’re all carrying such heavy gear that they’re interested in learning more about my pack and tent. I say goodbye and am on the trail by 7:45.
The hike to the border is downhill, mostly flat, and generally easy. I pass two thru-hikers who have stopped to have breakfast. Later one of them catches up to me, and we talk as we walk together for about 15 minutes. We come around a corner, and there it is: the small monument marking the border between the U.S. and Canada.
There are a few young men sitting down at the border. One of them is reading through the monument’s register book. I borrow it to leaf through it, and recognize the trail names of some of the hikers that have passed me over the past few weeks. I sign my own name at the bottom of the register and hand it back.
The second of the two thru-hikers I’d passed earlier comes hiking in. As he speeds across the border, he takes one of his hiking poles and snaps it in two. We all chat for a bit. As we’re doing this, a helicopter approaches, circling lower and lower. There’s nowhere for it to land, and it just hangs there, watching us. What does it want? We have no idea, so we just wave.
I have someone take a photo of me at the monument, then keep going. I notice that the Canadian side has a big “Welcome to Canada!” side — but the U.S. does not.
The trail continues in Canada, but it’s not longer the PCT, it’s a trail in Manning Provincial Park. It’s smaller somehow, and not quite as nicely graded as the PCT. I have a quick lunch at a campsite, and eventually reach a dirt road. This goes down and down for a few miles until it finally reaches a large sign for “Manning Park” and a paved road. This is it: the end of the trail.
I have to walk just a bit more on the road, finally arriving at Manning Park Lodge. I wash off in the restroom and buy a cold drink in the little store, then wait for Angela and the girls to arrive. The lodge was full, so I had to book them a room for the night at a motel in the closest town, Hope.
As I’m waiting, Kate, the section-hiker I’d camped with on the first night out of Stehekin, walks past. Her own hike didn’t go quite as planned. The morning after we’d camped together, she’d suddenly had bad pains in her knees, and ended up stopping at Rainy Pass after only hiking a few miles. She spent the rest of the day camping near the pass, hoping the rest would help her knees feel better. The next day, a woman offered to drive Kate up to Hart’s Pass so she could keep to her planned schedule. So, Kate’s made it to Canada, but had to skip a bit of this section.
Kate’s finishing her story when Angela and the girls arrive. I’m very happy to be done, and we pile into the car for the drive back to Seattle. I’m interested in having something for dinner that’s as far from hiker food as possible, so on the drive back, we stop in Edmunds for Szechuan food.
Miles today: 15
Total: 515!
We help host a group playdate for the incoming 3rd grade at our neighborhood park. Bree enjoys playing with her classmates (such as her friend Hazel, here sitting next to her). We have plenty of food for the kids, but that doesn’t stop them from running to meet the ice cream truck when they hear its little jingle.
Earlier this year, we noticed our backyard deck was sagging in one place. We ask our general all-around house builders/repair people Dennis and Loren to repair the deck. When they pull off the decking, they discover that the joists in that spot have completely rotted away. “I’ve never seen a deck this bad”, says Loren. Apparently, the people who built the deck in the 1980s didn’t use pressure-treated wood. Dennis and Loren make quick working of installing new joists that should last a very long time, and it’s nice to have our deck back.
We’re all off to Stanford Sierra Camp in the Lake Tahoe area for a week of family camp. This is our fifth year going, and the girls are all looking forward to it. This year, as a graduation present to Anya, she was allowed to invite a friend to camp, so we also have her good friend Kaila along with us.
We reunite at the SeaTac Airport with the other Seattle families going to the camp. The flight to Reno and the drive to camp go by quickly enough. We have a good Mexican lunch in Carson City. We arrive an hour before check-in, so our girls take Kaila on a tour of the camp.
One bit of bad luck is that Bree has been running a low fever for the past day, so she’ll have to miss out on the kids’ groups that begin tomorrow. This year, she’ll be part of the Yahoos group. Liya, Anya, and Kaila will all be in the Suaves group.
The older girls go off to their kids’ group today, but Bree still has a low-grade fever. She spends most of the day in the cabin with Jan and Angela. After reading books and exhausting other entertainments, Jan and Bree invent the game of “Stuffie Bocce”. This is played like regular Bocce, but with Bree’s stuffed animals instead of balls. For the pallino (small white ball that players try to hit), they use a white washcloth called the “clean-o”.
The Suaves group spends the morning climbing on the camp’s new rock climbing structure.
Bree’s feeling up for a walk around camp in the afternoon, including a stop at the Fountain for popsicles, then a walk down to a small boat dock.
Bree wants to explore the trail that starts across from our cabin, so Jan and Angela go exploring with her. We eventually find a trail we’ve never been on before which loops back to the “Snooper Chalet” and the north end of camp.
It’s Liya’s birthday today! She’s 13 years old, so now there are two teenagers in the family. After dinner, the camp staph [sic] come out with a cake and sing for Liya — but their lighter doesn’t work, so there’s a wait to track down a replacement lighter to light the cake.
Kaila and Anya get ready to go waterskiing.
Kaila’s trying waterskiing for the first time, so starts out on the boom. She gets up after just a couple of tries.
Anya has no trouble getting back up on skis, so tries going outside the wake for the first time. She quickly gets the hang of going back and forth across the wake.
Liya waits for an omelette at the popular omelette bar.
A group of Suaves campers hangs out in our room playing the card came Prez (President).
Liya and her friend Samantha have their turn to waterski. Liya gets up again pretty quickly, and begins working on getting outside the wake.
The camp’s mid-week towel exchange (bring your dirty towels, get clean towels) continues to evolve into an ever more elaborate “Linen Bar” experience. We enjoy mimosas and other drinks, and hang out in the chaise chairs. This year Liya joins Samantha in working behind the counter, handing out replacement toiletries to the other guests. They learn how to make cute little bunny shapes out of washcloths.