Diary - Mile 2592
State of Washington.
It has jungle-like forests, humming glacial peaks and good coffee, everything my soul needs. It roams happy.
Everything looks like autumn now. Blueberries and mushrooms everywhere. I gather thin strands of spiderweb on my face as I walk. A chipmunk runs with a red berry in its mouth. A bear gets spooked and gallops through wet grass. As I pass, a nervous squirrel releases a high-pitched alarm that sounds like a laugh sped up a couple of times, then she throws a pine cone at me from the tree. They do that a lot. It is often foggy and cloudy. Lonely, static ski lifts disappear into white nowhere. The whole world is devoured by a white mix of clouds and wildfire smoke, and if I was a flat earther I’d think I’ve finally reached the edge of it, but then, like a curtain, clouds part and right in front of you are rocky peaks, dense forests of perfectly cone-shaped firs, slopes with patches of yellow, dry grass and purple blueberry bushes. Clouds let you take a glimpse and swoosh, the curtain shuts again and you keep hiking into nowhere. The other day I saw a small teepee tent with smoke coming out of a chimney and goats, dressed in orange reflective vests. Then I met their owners, the hunters, who spotted a bear in a distance and lent me their binoculars to look at it. Yesterday yet another bear sneaked up on us having lunch. And then we hiked half a mile behind a chubby porcupine at a lazy porcupine’s speed, because he just wouldn’t go off trail.
Despite the fact that I could live here, I am ready to be done with the hike. Everything is slowly falling apart: my sleeping pad needs to be reinflated 3 times per night, my bag needs a serious wash and probably retirement, my hiking clothes have gained permanent dampness and a stench of a garbage can. 111 days spent in a tent is a decent amount and it’s getting increasingly colder. One day it rains on us all day, then temperature drops below zero at night. Needless to say, I wake up to a garland of glistening frozen droplets of condensation inside my tent and putting on cold, still soaking shoes is not my favorite thing in the morning.
Also, what’s with all the wildfires? I was told to expect mosquitoes and snow in Washington. There was one mosquito and it bit me in the forehead, that’s it. Hasn’t snowed yet either, luckily. Instead, at first, the last 30 miles of trail caught on fire and all of a sudden we had no finish line to go to (because it may or may have not burned), but ok, there’s a lake at the border- we’ll kayak. Nope. It takes an experienced kayaker 5 days to do that, and we are far from experienced. Ok, walk around the lake? Nope, that is also on fire. Finally, PCTA (the guys who manage the trail) gives an alternate trail to the border with warnings that: trail is not highly trafficked, there are burn areas that weren’t cleared and it’s a hunting area so wear a reflective vest and well, don’t get lost or shot, good luck. Great, that sounds like something we can do. But hey, there’s another fire before we even reach that, but it’s burning 15 miles from trail and the trail is still open, so we can still pass quick. Then there was a mudslide, but that also got cleared. And finally, because we seem to not have enough drama on our last 200 miles, one day we come upon a sign “Blasting on trail today. Watch out for a forest guard for further instructions”. There is no guard, who knows, the sign might be old, so I walk on. Then, BAM, ground shakes, chest flutters and somewhere rocks start falling while explosion echoes through the valley. Ok, the sign wasn’t old. A moment later I meet forest guards who tell me a horsey slid down and met his unfortunate end yesterday, so they are making the trail wider. Ok, I walk on. An hour later I am on the opposite side of the valley and BAM, this time even louder. I duck and the sound pushes a pain button in my head. How wide does this trail have to be? So like that, with SFX, rain, wildlife and stunning views I got to Stehekin, a place with a bakery so known, that people in Oregon showed me pictures of cinnamonn rolls and said I have to go there. So I did. They were goooood. And now we walked to Mazama, the last of PCT. From here we start the alternate.
In about 4 days I should reach the border if all goes well, and then back to civilization, where I get to do laundry, shower and drink coffee, things we all do so mechanically we forget they are a luxury.