PCT Miles 2089-2350

9/3 – 9/18

-> Highway 26 -> Ulrich Cabin->

Since I waited until northern Oregon to go to Bend (central Oregon), I was looking at a good two hour drive.

Surprisingly, I quickly got a ride from a guy in his 40s named James. He shuffled his guitar and other belongings around so I could cram my pack in the trunk of his small 4 door.

James was driving to Bend because he had just quit his job as a waiter and was looking for somewhere new to live. He was going to pull up to the city, start applying at restaurants, and figure out the rest later. Apparently, there were places on the outskirts of Bend where it is legal to live out of your car. With the decriminalization of heavy drugs and free off-grid living, I imagine the outskirts of town to be an interesting place. James occasionally hit his weed pen and told me very personal stories about himself and his extended family.

Some fun facts about James:

• He had a felony conviction in his 20s
• His son’s girlfriend is allegedly a terrible mother
• All of his siblings are successful doctors
• He has had a DUI
• He loves playing guitar
• His dad was conceived from marital rape

In writing, he sounds like a sketchy guy but I wasn’t worried and wouldn’t hesitate to ride with him again. His endless stream of stories and encyclopedic knowledge of small rock bands made the drive fly by.

James chose to stay at the same hostel with me. You can’t beat $44 for two nights in downtown Bend! Thank you Bunk + Brew for the hiker discount.

Bunk + Brew had all of the nice aspects of a good hostel. There was a community kitchen stocked with free food, clean rooms with good AC, cool murals, and plenty of lounging spaces and hammocks. Upon checking in, I was given a beer token to grab a free drink in the yard where they had resident food trucks and beer on tap.

There were also the regular hostel oddities, like the people who snuck in their friend who took my bed and had me walking to the front desk at night feeling like a narc.

I didn’t get to sleep in my first night at the hostel because I needed to catch a 6:40 am bus to Sisters to pick up a package at the post office. Michele, whose house I stayed at in northern California, had insisted on sending me new shoes! Her generosity was over the top and she included two new pairs of socks and some extra goodies. My two pairs of socks had JUST gotten holes in them, so the timing was perfect.

She was planning to send me another box of food or two in Washington as well – thank you Michele for checking in on me and helping me with resupplies!

I sat at the bus stop in the early morning with a bunch of kids going to their first day of school with their parents and a principal coordinating their new travel routine.

Before walking into town, I parted ways with my hole-y socks and my shoes that had weathered 750 miles through northern California and the better part of Oregon. My feet were aching from the insides and the new shoes felt like clouds.

I spent a couple hours at the bakery in Sisters waiting for the post office to open and then hitchhiked back to Bend with a kind man named Tom who had moved up to Sisters from northern California.

I wandered around downtown, got a latte at Thump, and visited the farmer’s market. I chatted with Spencer at the mead booth and it turned out his mom was actively hiking part of the PCT in northern California. What are the odds?

I then spent that whole evening with Jamie and Mel and got to know them much better. Up until then, I thought they had met on the PCT but they were actually married and had lived in Tel Aviv for four years before getting on trail. Jamie is British and Mel is from Switzerland.

We walked downtown and tried trivia at a bar but I was no good at it. What were the tallest buildings at various times in history? The pyramids? The Eiffel tower? I only knew the Burj Khalifa.

Afterwards, we walked to a space outside the Hayden Holmes Amphitheatre and eavesdropped on a Hozier concert with a hundred other moochers lounging on business park lawns. He sounded incredible live.

I managed not to take a picture this whole night despite it being a really really good time. Jamie and Mel aren’t on social media and they got off trail after Bend to go hike in Colorado, so I wouldn’t see them again:/

It was time to go back to trail after two nights in Bend, but my way back was not as easy as I had hoped.

I didn’t want to pay $45 for a private bus back to the trailhead, so I planned to take the city bus as far north as I could and then hitchhike the rest of the way. After accidentally setting a silent alarm, my travel day was pushed back and I had to wait until the afternoon for the next bus.

I saw the same principal from when I took the bus the day before and was then packed into a hot bus with middle schoolers who filled every seat and the entire aisle. A shocking number of them were completely goth and miserable looking.

A confident kid named Ryker sat next to me without hesitation and talked my ear off for 40 minutes. He gave me a rundown of his Duolingo skills, all his favorite apps, and the funniest videos he found on YouTube. His family lives in a trailer in Madras, he knows everything about Apple products, and he is liking school so far and has one solid friend. Ryker was a good bus buddy, and I hope he has a great school year.

I resupplied on groceries for the trail and then bought a blended matcha because I thought it would make me look softer while trying to hitchhike. Ha, it didn’t work.

I was too far out of the trail bubble where people trusted hitchhikers on the street. After an hour of standing with my thumb out and watching a few drivers chuckle and point at me, I had to call it quits. It was getting dark and didn’t make sense to try anymore, so I burnt over $100 for a motel stay. I should have just paid for the $45 shuttle back to trail.

Back at it again in the morning.

I tried to hitch for an hour and nothing worked so I started walking up the highway until I got to a gas station where I took a break. Eventually, a guy pulled over and brought me just 10 minutes further up the road.

I then waited again and got a ride the rest of the way with two native guys living in Portland who grew up on the Warm Springs reservation.

As we drove through the reservation, they pointed out a large area of land with a uniform forest of young trees. Back when the reservation burned down, there were negotiations about the state paying to rehabilitate the land. Instead, the tribe’s elders shuttled out to the burned areas with bags of saplings on their old backs and replanted the forest by hand! It was really interesting to see. We also pulled off the road and refilled our water bottles from a fresh spring in the woods.

All in all, I made it back to the trail at 4:30 pm a full day later than I had planned.

Right when I got out of the car, an old guy approached with a frantic story about how he was nearly crushed by a huge falling tree 10 minutes before. He was so shaken up that we traded places in the car and the two native guys took him to Government Camp so he could stay the night. He was talking about quitting the PCT altogether but I’m sure he got over it.

Although I wanted to hustle to make up for the extra day off trail, I had a package to pick up in Cascade Locks and it was the weekend. I could only do 25 miles for the next two days so I would arrive on Monday.

It was nice savoring the miles around Mount Hood since it was the last I would see in Oregon.

The air was hot, and it rained in the morning while I walked to the historic Timberline Lodge where The Shining was filmed. Flora and I ate at the surprisingly delicious buffet breakfast. We stood out as the dirty hikers surrounded by a wealthy wedding party and their guests.

After leaving the lodge, the PCT overlaps with a portion of the Timberline Trail, which circles Mount Hood.

The Timberline Trail was beautiful and frequented by weekenders.

Eventually, I was pealing away from Mount Hood and getting much closer to Washington. There was *shocker* a fire closure on trail between Cascade Locks and me. There was an alternate path on the Indian Springs trailhead that didn’t require road walking.

The alternate route was actually more exciting than the PCT would have been because there were waterfalls ahead!

There didn’t seem to be evidence of waterfalls, or even water for that matter, on the whole descent into the valley.

Suddenly, I was along a creek hugged by tall cliffs.

The trail went behind the tallest waterfall, and then I enjoyed one last swim in Oregon with only a couple hours to go before getting to Cascade Locks.

By the evening, I was looking up at the Bridge of the Gods – the entry into Washington.

I had already been in Cascade Locks for PCT Days but it was really exciting to be there again. I knew my way around town so I immediately had dinner at Thunder Island Brewery and camped at the same place I had a few weeks before.

I had been texting Pony Boy throughout Oregon but he was always a day ahead of me and within 5 miles at one point. We were finally in sync in Cascade Locks and hung out at the campground with some other hikers that night.

The other hikers left their things to charge at a table in the campground overnight and they got stolen. Pony Boy told me later that a homeless person threw one of their phones in a porta potty.

Before starting Washington, I picked up my resupply package from Michele. Michele mailed me food from Trader Joe’s because that was my choice grocery store when we drove to Reno. Combined with my stock of protein bars, ramen, and breakfast food, I had quite the menu for the next five or so days.

Alas:

WASHINGTON

It was September 9th and time to tackle the last state in my PCT journey.

There were now just 505 miles between me and the Canadian border, which felt achievable. With a goal to finish the trail before October, I had some work cut out for me.

I met some lovely people from Wisconsin on the middle of the bridge who took my pictures for me.

Most of the pictures looked like this:

But we got one decent shot and one of the guys gave me a $20 bill to congratulate me! I tucked it away and hoped to use it to buy a bottle of champagne for the northern terminus.

I had heard Washington was difficult, especially after Oregon’s meandering ups and downs. I didn’t realize it would try to whoop me in the first few hours.

Cascade Locks is the lowest elevation on trail, so the climb north started off steep to regain some elevation. It was incredibly humid and the sweat stung my scraped shins and made my palms slick against my trekking poles.

That first afternoon, I saw Mount Adams, Mt. Rainier, and Mt. St Helens. I was looking at my first mountain goal posts.

The woods were already distinctly different than the last stretch in Oregon. The humidity hung in the air and the forest was lush with ferns, moss, and mushrooms growing around and up the sides of the trees.

My first full day in Washington was simple. I found two garter snakes and took a long break at Wind River while I thought about my plans for the rest of the trail.

I was planning to hike through all of Washington without taking a day off or sleeping in town.

Looking at all of the resupply points on trail, I had visited 25/68 locations in California, and 10/14 in Oregon.

Out of the 8 options in Washington, I planned to stop at:

White Pass (mile 2294.9)
Snoqualmie Pass (mile 2393.1)
Stevens Pass  (mile 2464.1)
Stehekin (mile 2571.9)

On top of cutting out breaks, I was also expecting to deal with at least two fire closures. One was an easy 30 mile reroute, but the second would be 100 miles without a highly recommended alternate route.

Later that day, I stumbled on an optional road walk that would lead to a waterfall and I opted to take it.

I started to get a bit skeptical of the weather and pulled a report on my Garmin – rain was coming the following day. Welcome to Washington.

It was dark by the time I got to Panther Falls so I didn’t even hike down to see the waterfall.

After sleeping just off the side of the road, I prepared for a day of wet weather by putting all of my gear inside of a trash bag within my bag. I had made a habit of drinking protein powder mixed with water each morning. The protein powder was from a hiker box and I couldn’t beat 50g of free protein each morning.

I was massively entertained by mushrooms this entire day. My favorites were the massive shrooms, the red ones, and one variety that turned blue on the bottom wherever it was touched. I resisted picking them for a while but they littered the trail for hours and I was too curious.

The rain came in small bouts, but the clouds hung low and kept everything damp for the next couple of days.

I thought a lot about how to appreciate Washington in the same way I did earlier parts of trail. Although I was starting to think about the logistics of getting home once I made it to Canada, I wanted to focus on the day-to-day experience.

I was starting to feel like I was late in the season but was encouraged to see how many other hikers signed the register the same day as me, even if I didn’t recognize a single name and the most recent hiker was named Piss Cheeks.

The fog persisted and it took me a while to find somewhere to sleep because there were hardly any clear flat places. I eventually set up camp and slept among some noisy deer that clip-clopped right by my tent and loudly broke sticks. I guess there were some quiet visitors that night too because I woke to a fresh hole in my tent’s mesh.

Whatever. I wasn’t going to patch up this one because they’d just chew through it again! Since mosquitos weren’t a problem, I only needed my tent for the rain cover.

Hiking in the fog was really relaxing, but it put a damper on the mornings when I’d have to invert my bubble of warm comfort. I would often linger in my tent until the stress of sleeping in got me moving at some point after 8 am.

I’d slip out of my damp quilt, put on my damp sun hoodie, slip on my wet shoes, and pack up my wet tent. Type 2 fun, right?

Donning my wet apparel, I was ready for another closure and a 30-mile road walk around the Williams Mine fire. Thankfully, the road walk was the same number of miles as the portion of trail that was closed.

This was the road where hikers would often hitch to Trout Lake for some food or a resupply package, but I was still set on making my stops minimal. I saw Dagwood and Runaway at the road as they were getting a ride to town.

It rained plenty this day but the road walk was lovely.

I met an Israeli bikepacker and a caravan of trucks stopped for me so a guy could hop out and grab a beer from his truck bed.

Having a Rainier beer as I moved north towards Mount Rainier was cool, and it reminded me of other local drinks I had so far on trail – a Shasta soda right after the Oregon border, Deschutes beer and huckleberry cider in Oregon, and Sierra Nevada beer in Bishop.

I still had 10 miles of road to finish the next day and I couldn’t find anywhere to camp so I cleared out a space in the woods and scraped it level with a big stick. I’m pretty sure I was on somebody’s property but options were limited!

In the morning, I was finally free of the wet weather! It was the best feeling letting my quilt dry out and knowing I wouldn’t have to climb into a damp bed that night.

I also had no idea I was so close to Mount Adams which flaunted some fresh snow.

As I had experienced after each rain on trail, I had a renewed energy and interest when things cleared up. I would start looking ahead on the map and getting more excited about what was coming up.

The expansive views were incredible, and I was excited to learn that I was close to entering the Goat Rocks wilderness. Everybody I talked to at trail days who had already been in Washington said Goat Rocks was their favorite part.

I walked in and out of the clouds on my way up to Cispus Pass until the water dissipated at the top of the pass.

I considered cowboy camping but was hit with sudden wind and rain that was not in the forecast. Thankfully, my sleep gear was all dry this time and I was grateful to have had a beautiful clear day of hiking.

I woke on the 14th to an incredible view of Goat Rocks wilderness and my first look at Mount Rainier to the north.

The weather forecast for the day was a high of 47 with a chance of light rain throughout and I was planning to make it to White Pass that night. It would be my first town stop since I started Washington five days before and I was excited for some real food.

In between me and White Pass was a traverse called Knife’s Edge and I had no idea what I was in for! Within a few hours, I had been transported into an exposed crumbly ridge with patches of snow. The thick clouds collected in my hair and dripped down my face.

Knife’s edge was a long exposed ridge that would have been more enjoyable if I didn’t have to outrun the cold.

It took me an hour to get past the ridge and beneath the clouds.

I would love to come back and do this section when there is visibility, but I still enjoyed the cloudy atmosphere.

I was trying to hustle to get to White Pass in time to buy dinner, but I got sidetracked by a 40 minute conversation with an extroverted elk hunter.

He showed me how he mimics different elk grunts and loud calls and recounted hunting stories. As somebody who has never gone hunting, I became far more interested in it. He was doing all the same things as me, just with a weapon and a respect for the art of tracking and luring bull elk.

The rest of the way was a gradual downhill and absolutely beautiful.

I made it to White Pass in time for dinner, which consisted of a few piping hot burritos from the display case. I ate them so fast that I bit my tongue really hard.

It was nice to hang out with other hikers while I was there and the store provided a great space in the back for us to hang out and set up tents!

After sleeping behind the store, I forced myself to walk back to trail despite the rumors of incoming rain. Taking a zero at this point would throw off my goal.

I walked along the muddy trail and only had 100 miles until Snoqualmie Pass. At this point, I found it very easy to average at least 25 miles after pushing myself to do 30s in Oregon.

The next day was clear, and I dried my gear off again.

Wet

Dry

Wet

Dry

Washington whiplash.

I had a late start and was feeling pretty slow as I approached Rainier. I had a nice break with Grizzly Adams while we talked about all the normal trail topics: gear failures, weather, nutrition, and trail mindsets.

Grizzly told me that most people were skipping the upcoming fire closure which shaves 100 miles off of Washington. I didn’t want to skip anything, but there were rumors that the alternate trail was really difficult and long.

As the day went on, I felt like I was more than just tired. By the evening, I was sure I was sick because my body felt cold on the warmest day in Washington thus far. I didn’t even want to listen to music and took a nap by a lake to try to recharge.

I ended up cutting the day short at 17 miles.

I figured good sleep was the best way to shake off the sickness, so I took some Ibuprofen PM and slept for a solid 12 hours.

I still had body aches and a sore throat the next day. When I saw Grizzly Adams again, I learned he was a paramedic and he offered me medicine and assured me that I could still hike with a mild fever.

After another 17 mile day, I camped in some foggy woods with water dripping down onto my tent. I was out cold for another 12 hours.

After two slow days, I sat on the porch of Mike Ulrich’s cabin and started to rework my plans for finishing the trail. I was starting to feel better but still had sick-brain low motivation and was reconciling the fact that I fell behind on my mileage goal.

In just over a week, I had fallen 23.3 miles behind my goal.

On top of that, there were now concrete plans for some trail friends (One Shot, Sickness, Bin Chicken, Chip, Pony Boy) to stay in Vancouver together starting on the 29th. It was already the 18th and I had over 300 miles left on trail. If I wanted to finish before October, I would need to seriously kick up the miles or skip the upcoming 100 mile fire closure section.

“Should I go fast and risk enjoying the trail less?”
“Should I go slow and risk not finishing the trail because of snow?”
“Should I skip around the fire closure and give up my continuous foot path?”

I had reluctantly resolved to skip the 100 mile alternate route so I could preserve my enjoyment of the rest of the trail. It seemed like the only way I was guaranteed to finish the trail in time.

With my decision to slow down, I enjoyed a few hours at the cabin while filtering more water, looking out at the foggy meadow, hand feeding some gray jays, and bullying a squirrel by stealing all of the cones it knocked down from the canopy. Trust me, it deserved it.

I savored my time on the porch and my visions of meandering to the northern terminus until Pony Boy caught up to me and completely flipped my plans.

Pony Boy proposed a punishing new plan:

“What if we averaged 29 miles for 10 days straight, hiked through the fire closure even if it doesn’t open up, and caught up to everybody on the 29th?”

The selling point was that if we pushed hard and made ourselves a little bit miserable, we would be ready to finish instead of mourning the trail’s end.

Pony Boy’s motivation was contagious and I was immediately on board and ready to go out with a bang.

With our sights set on the border, we set out into the foggy woods.

🇨🇦 🌲🚶🏼‍♂️🚶🏼‍♂️