Mile 2646 to 2660

In the middle of the night there is a crashing sound like a log being rolled over. Are you kidding me? That sounds way too much like a bear grubbing, and we are both sleeping with our food bags. I fumble for my headlamp, but I need a flashlight to help find my headlamp. It’s a bit like needing scissors to open a new package of scissors. It is my last day. Everything I do is for the last time: sleeping in a tent, digging a 6 inch cat hole, checking the map for water sources, looking at profile elevations, drinking Muscle Milk for breakfast and a ton of other tasks previously chronicled. The one last I don’t want this to be, is my last day of living. I eventually find and shine my light into the darkness. “We are more trouble than we are worth,” I say to the unknown noise maker.

Our tents, sleeping bags and gear are soaking wet. But we don’t care. Today is the last day we pack up. We will not be sleeping in the wild wild wet tonight. I don’t even rinse my dirty old Gatorade now Muscle Milk bottle. It is going straight in the recycle bin. The clothes I am wearing will be going in the trash.

As we hike down a long steep side slope toward the border, we come upon a tent smack dab in the middle of the trail. It reminds us that we miss Ixnay. We excuse ourselves and squeeze by. A female voice from within says “Sorry”. She was clearly too exhausted to continue, and dropped where she was in the night.

Border Cut

There is a strange cut of trees in the horizon. “It’s the border,” declares Kevin. It is kind of odd how the border is exactly the opposite of a fence. The forest is a thick wall of wood, difficult to pass, but for one brief moment the trees are clear cut and the border is like a city park: smooth, green, and full of sunlight.

We switchback down to Northern Terminus and Monument 78. We have it all to ourselves. We take the obligatory goofy pictures and remove the heavy metal monument cap. In it is the final log book, though it should have also contained instructions on how to put the monument cap back on. It is surprisingly heavy and no longer fits, regardless how many times we rotate it and try again.

Selfie at Terminus

On April 3rd I signed the Southern Terminus log book. There are a variety of log books in-between, some on the actual trail in podium like stands and some at resupply locations such as general stores or post offices. There are not as many log books as on the AT where there is one at every shelter, but there are quite a few. From that first day, I told myself the only other one I was signing was the one at the Northern Terminus. My theory was that signing any other interim book was an admission I might not make it to the final one. I never said it was a good theory, just that it was mine.  I did sign two other books, but they are not official PCT books. I signed the book on Mount Baden Powell in honor of my father who took me there as a boy scout, and I signed the one on Mount Whitney because, well it’s Mount Whitney.

Today I sign the Northern Terminus Monument 78 log book. It is done.

Monument 78

We now have only to walk another 8 miles to Manning Park and get picked up by Terri. You can only hike into Canada if you have a border crossing permit from the Canadian government. Having a felony is the primary reason to be denied. We do our best not to judge the hikers returning 30 miles to Harts Pass rather than entering Canada. It’s probably just where they left their cars parked.

We hike into Canada and over a 1,000 foot climb. On the final long gentle slope we meet several more strangers who congratulate and cheer us. It is still as strange to me as the time way back in the dessert when the Sierra Club group made us walk through a tunnel of raised hiking sticks. As if to keep my head from swelling, a yellow jacket flies into my shirt and bites me on the neck. The pain is searing, but Kevin points out that crying from a bug bite would be worse than crying at the monument. I did neither. But as the pain flows through my body, I realize something is telling me it is time to leave the wilderness.

Terri and Daniel have come part way up the trail to meet us. They tell us getting out of Canada may be harder than getting in, because Daniel forgot his US Passport on the kitchen counter in Seattle. After driving way too fast for me, and sitting way too long at the crossing, Daniel begs his way back into the United States. He is given a formal warning that he is in violation of the US border crossing documentation requirements. We are pretty sure that just means he is now on a path to citizenship and can apply for a wide variety of social services.

On the US side of the border we find our US dollars good again, so we duck into Bob’s Burger and Brew and spend them.  We drive back to Peg and Lane McNitt’s in Seattle, where we are spoiled with ribs, fruit, biscuits and desserts.  Tomorrow we will fly back to Oakland, erasing in an hour what took months to walk.

Mile 2623 to 2646

I am visited in the night by Mighty Mouse. I know he is Mighty Mouse because I see him fly. He is perched on my head when I grab his tail and fling him out of the tent door with an amazing arc into the darkness. Fly Mighty, fly!

We wake at 5:00am and feel like a set of all weather tires. Today we will be road tested with snow, rain, drizzle, overcast and partly cloudy. The snow as we leave camp is beautiful. It is not like the pelting bean bag chair stuffing, but rather like being inside a well shaken snow globe. We feel just about as wet too. Everything we have is now soaked. We are praying for a brief break to dry things just enough that we can climb into them without squealing in agony.

We come upon a gaggle of grouse. The male grouse is splaying his tail feathers in a ritual dance. Freezing frigid females seem sadly less than interested. Perhaps in this extremely cold weather the goods he is selling are less impressive than usual.

It is clear that today is a day for making passes. We do our best by making it over Windy Pass, Foggy Pass, Jim Pass, Holman Pass, Rock Pass, Woody Pass and Hopkins Pass.

Drying Gear

Before reaching camp we attempt to dry our gear on a ridge. The sun only makes very brief appearances, and we keep telling ourselves we just have to make it one more night. Even if we have to put on everything we own, we can surely do that.

We eventually stop and camp at the Boundary Trail split. We are now 4 miles from the Canadian border, and another 8 miles to Manning Park, where we hope to be picked up by Terri in a warm comfortable car.

Mile 2598 to 2623

I wake at 2am with a frozen tent. It is so cold I actually wish I had an Ixnay night time bottle. Well perhaps not, but I really do not want to go outside to go outside.

At 5am we get up for good. As I pack up my tent the frost on the outside of the tent combines with the frozen condensation on the inside and creates a giant snowball. I pull the tent back out of the stuff sack, shake it as best I can, leaving a huge pile on the ground. As I pack it back up it seems to have as much or more snow than before. Feeling like Elsa from Frozen – I just need to let it go.

Drying Gear

In the cold we hump it up Methow Pass then have a long down. The long down is followed by a long up. It begins to feel a little like the Oregon green tunnels, but with elevation. There is a brief break in the trees and a hint of sun, so we stop and create a yard sale of drying gear. Being able to setup a dry tent tonight will make all the difference.

We continue on over Glacier Pass and Grasshopper Pass on our way towards Harts Pass. We are now running into a lot of day hikers who enthusiastically cheer us on. Kevin continues to find it ridiculous that total strangers congratulate us or tell us how courageous we are. We are just walking after all, not exploring Mars.

Very Cold Camp

We are however running low on water. The last seasonal creeks were dry, so the southbounder who told us he never went more than 7 miles between water in Washington State must have skipped this section. A young couple running their dogs tells us they have a jug of water in their truck at the trailhead parking lot. We trade trail life stories for water, so clearly we get the better of that deal.

At the Harts Pass campground there is a campsite set up for trail magic: US and Canadian flags, tables, chairs, stoves, and offers to cook us hot food. Kevin is more interested in the pit toilet. Our goal is to push on another 3.5 miles while there is still daylight and it is not pouring. If he handed us a hamburger we would take it, but we are not going to wait around while he uncovers the gear and figures out how to start up the stove. We thank him for the offer and move on up the steep grade. Besides, we are already looking forward to our bean burritos.

We finally set up camp, cook as quickly as we can, then retreat to our tents. I struggle to blog with my frozen finger. If I peck the keyboard too hard it feels as though my finger will shatter into a million pieces.

Mile 2574 to 2598

We luck out and wake to a dry camp. We pack up quickly after consuming massive cinnamon rolls and making a pit stop at the pit toilet. Even after all these miles a good seat is difficult to leave behind.

Black Bear

We hike along a wide cliff ledge that drops down to Bridge Creek. A brown flash startles us from the cliff side. It is a brown colored black bear not willing to go over the edge, so he jogs forward and takes the trail about 30 feet ahead of us. Once on the trail he seems to lose all fear and slows to a stop, as do we. I pull out my video camera and begin taping. He turns back and faces us, then eventually leaves the trail to our left, apparently now bored with the whole thing.

Quick Break in Weather

As we hike on, the gentle rain becomes a bit aggressive and we stop to pull on our rain pants. The pants block the cold wind and rain, but just as importantly keep us from feeling the wet carwash bushes or getting a chafing rash from being in wet garments all day.

Someone ahead of us is leaving messages written in the wet trail. It is a bit like reading the old Berma-Shave advertisement signs along the highway, except since we are walking the time between words is significantly longer. The pouring rain may be washing away some of the words or at least the context, because in about a half hour of walking we have “Your Feet And Mom Put A Fork”. Try as we might we cannot make sense of it.

Storm Coming

I suppose it should go without saying that it rains on Rainy Pass, but there I said it, and yes it did. When we stop to enjoy cheese, salami and bagel sandwiches, the rain turns to snow and fills Kevin’s now open pack. It is the pelty little not quite as icy hard as hail white balls. I am sure the Eskimos have a precise term or two for it. We just call it: What The Heck.

We make our way up to and across Cutthroat Pass, where steep jagged peaks and crazy dark clouds loom waiting. The snow starts gentle but then quickly attacks, pounding in all directions. The trail looks as though giants are having a massive beanbag chair fight and the stuffing is pouring over everything.

The sun teases us, but never really comes out. We setup camp during a break in the weather. As we cook some Pad Thai to warm our cold bellies other tired hikers arrive and squeeze in with their tent. The pika continue to make warning cries but we settle into our tents unwilling to leave. We fall asleep hoping for fairer weather tomorrow.

Exposed Camp

Miles 2462 to 2569 – Bus/Ferry/Bus fire reroute

Miles 2569 to 2574

We stop at the front desk at 6:00am hoping to grab a quick breakfast on our way to the bus stop. Unfortunately breakfast is not put out until 6:30, the same time our bus departs for Chelan. I plead for at least a muffin and learn that words do matter. I assume he will begrudgingly provide a muffin for each of us, but no I said a muffin and he begrudgingly provides a muffin. We laugh and split it as we walk toward the bus station.

The bus ride to the Lady of Our Lake dock is 1 hour long and costs a whopping $2.50. Kevin is pretty sure that does not cover the actual operating expense. We are joined by a blind man with a white cane. Although not politically correct I find myself chuckling when we drop him off at the security guard shack where he works. What a country.

At the ferry we are joined by several other thru-hikers making their way to the final leg of our journey. It is a strange feeling. This will be the last time we leave a resupply for the wilderness. For most of us it will be 4 more days of walking and it’s all over. I imagine it will end with the same fanfare Forest Gump ends the jogging craze: “I am pretty tired… I think I’ll go home now.”

Our Lady of the Lake

On the ferry we feel strangely like normal tourists. It is a 4 hour ride with occasional commentary on the history and environment of the third deepest lake in the country. On the boat we can see smoke from the still burning fire, which is not expected to be out until significant winter snow falls. We selfishly hope that does not happen in the next 4 days.

Stehekin Red Bus

We stop for a brief visit at the Stehekin visitor center to get our Northern Cascade National Park Complex Backcountry Permit, which appears to live up to its complex name. In this next 17 mile section we can only camp in designated sites and we must decide now. Not sure when we will reach the trail or if it will be raining we select Bridge Creek, a site 5 miles out. That will at least knock our remaining 4 day average to Manning Park down to a reasonable 21.25 miles.

We ride the red bus towards the PCT, but have one mandatory stop, the Stehekin Pastry shop. We purchase massive cinnamon rolls and sticky buns to carry on the trail. I am not exactly sure, but I think they are close to a million calories each.

Stehekin Bakery

Back on the trail we find our legs a little lethargic, probably from the double zero. We warm them up by dodging the crazy number of tiny tree frogs on the trail and the one huge seriously rattling rattlesnake now striking a striking pose.

At camp we set up our tents and consume sticky buns, hoping the calories will stick to ours. We are soon joined by 2 other thru-hikers. Tomorrow we will climb over 6,000 feet in about 20 miles. It won’t be the steepest climb, but it will just seem to keep going all day long and get colder with every step.

Zero Miles

We wake for a repeat of the make your own waffles and cereal breakfast. With our chores completed yesterday, today really is a lazy day. We watch television, catch up on the internet and nap. We research all the things you can do in Wenatchee and it turns out we really don’t want to do either of them. We review on Rotten Tomatoes the 8 current movies and find they have perfect scores: 100% rotten, at least by our assessment.

Indian Buffet

We head to an Indian buffet where they do not have an “if you don’t eat it you pay more” business model. Theirs is much simpler: make good food and people will eat it. Which they did, and we did.

After tiring of the basic television channels we flip to HBO and watch the free to us movie Transcendence. As the movie ends we debate if we actually got good value. It did kill some time, just not as humanely as we had hoped.

We are still full from the lunch buffet so Kevin runs out to get us milkshakes, which fortunately go into a completely different stomach compartment. We complete final packing by over-stuffing our packs, then make one more attempt at over-stuffing ourselves with a club sandwich and chips from Jimmy John’s.

We fall asleep in a warm bed for the last time on this thru-hike, hoping at least one of us will wake up in time to catch the bus at 6:30am.

Zero Miles

Unless I turn on the Disney channel, I see no sign of a mouse which it turns out I am okay with. Kevin sleeps as I head for the standard cheap hotel breakfast of bad coffee and make your own waffles. We have a list of chores to do, not the least of which is drying our washed and partially dried down bags. We walk to a tiny hotel laundry and dry the bags with a shoe to break up the matted down. The shoe keeps knocking the door open and stopping the dryer.

All You Can Stand Buffet

After sorting, drying and cleaning gear we grab some tacos and wait for the bus back to Walmart. People who ride the bus are often the same people who shop Walmart and with our scraggly beards and tired worn clothes, we fit right in. We grab some Ibuprofen, non-cotton gloves and food for tomorrow’s trip back to the trail. We strike out on cheap fleece for the pending cold snow.

I continue to check trail conditions and weather and it is not good. Some forecasts are now putting the snow fall at up to 6 inches at the higher elevations. Later in the week looks better. PCTA Facebook posts of National Weather Service warnings are asking people to delay if possible. I contact the Lady Of The Lake ferry service and even though I have already paid via credit card I can push out my reservation. We decide to stay one more night in Wenatchee then take the ferry on Thursday to eliminate at least one of the nights of snow.

China Foreign (to me) Policy

For dinner we hit the All-You-Can-Stand-To-Eat Chinese buffet where quantity does not make up for quality. Making it even more interesting they have a policy that if you don’t clean your plate they weigh the waste and charge you extra. So the worse their food is the more money they can make and believe me they are working very hard to maximize shareholder value. When I asked the Chinese waiter about this policy, he was unable to read either the English statement or the Spanish translation and simply smiled instead.

I did some internet research on the Snoqualmie Search and Rescue we witnessed on August 28 and found out that a horse and rider tumbled 100 feet from the PCT, rolled several times but luckily both were eventually rescued unharmed. Over 65 people were involved in the rescue.

Tomorrow we have a few chores, the most important of which is figuring out how to kill another day in Wenatchee.