Welcome to my 40-years-later PCT hike. Time to master this new technology! So starting off with a couple photos of my gear (closely scrutinized by my daughter “Cindy Loo-Hoo” (PCT class of 2015!)). Scarred by memories of the spring storms of ’77, I can’t bring myself to travel as light as some – my base weight is just over 20.
This time I actually have done some pre-hike training, starting in January, getting out for 10-15 miles a couple times per week carrying 38 lbs. So my pack and shoes are dialed in and my 63-yr-old body isn’t sending any “I can’t do this” messages. Hoping for the best…
Making a LOT of high-cal granola today, under Loo-Hoo’s watchful eye. Blowing and drizzling on Lopez, spring is late this year.
On September 18, Chris and I broke camp at the border, climbed the last thousand feet up and over the last ridge, and walked the eight miles out to the highway in Manning Park. Judy picked us up, and I walked into my house at about 8:00 that evening. Long walk finished. I’m very happy to be home, although, two days later, still very tired, a sort of deep bone-tired that is hard to describe and will likely take a while to rebound from. If one’s soul indeed only travels as fast as a trotting camel, mine evidently hasn’t arrived yet, as my mind is very scattered, and I have to remind myself that I have all the time I need to get back on track here. So my first priority is to rest and reconnect with friends!
The last leg was made much more enjoyable by the company of Festus (aka Chris Dern), lifelong friend and an 800-mile partner on the ’77 PCT hike. He came off his couch, so to speak, to walk 3 PCT-length days (ie 20-milers) with me from Rainy Pass to the border. And did them in good spirits, and with some helpful medications. We climbed pass after pass, with amazing views of rugged peaks, brilliant fall colors, and only minimal smoke obscuring the far distance. All trails to the east were closed due to fire, but, thankfully, the PCT remained open. I finally saw a bear, a whopping big black one right in front of me on the trail one morning. He moved off, casually and gracefully once he saw us.
And how do I feel about the adventure now? I’m content. No, I didn’t walk every mile, I didn’t leave a line of “continuous footsteps” (I think my milage is somewhere over 2100). What I truly believe is that I did the best I could, given who I am and all the events that I had no control over (ie snow, fire, spider bites). Do I feel obliged to go back and hike the missing sections? Absolutely not, although I might want to do some section hiking later. Did I have a great and amazing adventure? Did I enjoy my days on the trail, seeing the country at 3 miles per hour and meeting al kinds of wonderful people? Was I grateful each morning to be out there, starting another day on the PCT? Yes, yes, and yes! I send my humble thanks out to all of those who lent a hand along the way: trail angels with their coolers of ice-cold sodas, those who stopped to pick up a hitchhiking, grizzled, dirty stranger, the ones who welcomed me into their homes. The world is full of good, generous people, and I am determined to be one of them!
Spiker at Monument 78 – 2017 Spikers at Monument 78 – 1977
Festus up high somewherePasayten viewSpiker looking a bit wiltedPasayten alpine meadow78 and me Border campLast camp breakfast – granola and instant espressoShort fishing episode – no action
Lounging in front of the Lodge, tempted in equal measure to: eat (again) or nap, but will resist both for the moment. Got in on the last shuttle yesterday, after a leg of climbing up and over the spurs of Glacier Peak, one after another. Had one very wet day/night, a reminder that each clear day is a blessing this time of year. I had the pleasure of Cindy Loo-Hoo’s (Laura) company for the first two days. She handled the miles – 23, 19 easily, or so she claimed. We met Suz, who came up to the Crest via a side trail, for a family reunion on a drizzly night. It was so good to be with them even for a short time, and hard to head north by myself. The weather cleared again, though, and I made good time to Stehekin. Presently I’m camped in front of the visitors center, as the campgrounds are full, and so far have: eaten a big breakfast, retrieved my food box from the PO, and done laundry. These 0 days do fill up. Once I finish this, it will be time to walk up to the bakery for, yes, more food. Onwards tomorrow, where Chris will meet me at Rainy Pass, to hike the last miles to the border together, where Judy will meet us. Hard to truly get that, after nearly 140 days I will soon put down my pack…
Glacier PeakAnother view of GlacierA overhang at Mica Lake where we had a cold, wet lunch during the ’77 hike.Bridge over Kennedy Creek, been like this for years!Suz and Laura – trail angels!Dinner in my 1-person tent.Cindy Loo-Hoo back on the PCT!
Snatched up by Laura at Stevens Pass yesterday and brought down here, I’m enjoying a 0-day and prepping for the last couple hundred miles. Bone tired but excited to hike these last amazing days through the North Cascades. I do hope the smoke lifts, as the views have been pretty limited the last few days. The leg north from Snoqualmie was made more challenging by the amount of climbing involved – more than 5000′ each day. Given that, twenty miles were more than enough per day. Incredible, vertical country! I had one beautiful , clear day heading north before the smoke descended, shrouding the ridges and limiting the views. Side trails were all closed, but the PCT remained open, which had the effect of funneling hikers and making camping spots difficult to find at times. Laura will hike north with me for a couple days, then we’ll meet up with Suzanne coming in from the east and she will return with her. So she will get to relive the PCT glory days of ’15. We already shared and compared stories over dinner (huge burrito!!) last night. So it will be great to have her company as well as meeting Suz on trail! I’m guessing my next entry will be post-trail, as Stehekin is unlikely to have any cell or wifi connection. I’m guessing 5 days to there, a 0-day, and another 5 to the border. Probably yo-yo back to Harts Pass and home from there, as it’s a long drive to Manning. So, on to the last legs!!
Spectacle Lake – camped and had a swim there.That is the sun!Beautiful alpine lake in the murk.Ol’ Spiker after 2000 or so miles, still game but a bit weary.Fortunately I don’t need much space!First view of Glacier Peak!Mountains on fire…
Fire shut down the trail north of White Pass, so I picked up my food and hitched down here yesterday. Missing 50 trail miles. So it goes…, and my schedule is off by 3 days now. Rained this morning early, and I didn’t have the rain fly up, so had to scramble. Forecast is for dry and sunny, though, so will get dried out easily but be more careful, as summer is ending!
Hanging out with Steve (other Spiker) and Nancy, waiting for breakfast in Packwood. After a 4-day, 100 mile dash north from the Columbia, I left the trail just before the Goat Rocks and hitched to meet them at White Pass. Great to spend time with them and tell trail stories, old and new. After breakfast they will get me back to my trailhead.
So I looked ahead at miles, and here it is roughly:
Back to White Pass on the 31st Sept
Arrive Snoqualmie 09/05
Arrive Stevens 09/09
Arrive Stehekin 09/14
Arrive at border 09/19
Probably yo-yo back to Harts 09/21
No more days over 20!!
Wifi may be sketchy, but I’ll do the best I can. Feeling OK, but generally tired. Glad to be on home turf!
3 families adopted me one evening north of AdamsNorth side of AdamsCrossing Bridge of the GodsSteve & Nancy Hughes, good friends and partner from ’77 hike
I’m in serious post-prandial stupor here at Timberline Lodge, in full view of Mt. Hood. I did, in fact, restrain myself to two visits to the buffet, so am only comfortably full, and do intend to get some miles in. Sometime later.
Took a ride around the Jefferson fire with some other hikers to Olallie Lake. The little store was unchanged from 40 years ago, and the view of Jeff was just as stunning. Shared a campsite with some friendly soboers, and headed out in the morning. 30 to Timothy Lake and 20 yesterday got me to Timberline. Spent a very windy night up the hill at the campsite, then came down for the famous spread, which certainly lived up to its reputation!
Last time I was here was with the ’77 crew, and we slept on a lodge porch, escaping from a night of very foul weather. I hope summer isn’t quite over yet this year! Only 50 miles to Wash!
Central Oregon, getting off my feet while blisters (from shoes with 700+ miles on them, I suspect) heal and just getting a rest. Etna was some 300 miles ago now.
From Etna we climbed up back into the Trinity Alps, then dropped way down into Seiad Valley, an interesting place, hotbed of activist effort to create a new state of Jefferson from surrounding areas not well-represented by state governments. While we were whiling away the heat of the afternoon in the shade, one local was happy to air his grievances and tell us all about it.
From Seiad we climbed way up again, into the Marbles, a small group of rugged peaks just south of the CA/OR border. As the snow had only recently departed, the wildflowers were in full bloom, huge meadows of them. Then, eventually, after much winding here and there, we crossed into Oregon!
I stopped at Callehans, a lodge just off the trail which offers a package of showers, laundry, food, and camping space to hikers. Once fed and presentable, or as good as it gets these days, I set off to hitch to Ashland, as I had supplies waiting at the PO, also had to buy and mail food onward to a couple places in OR that had no stores. Well, after a considerable wait on a very hot afternoon, a retired gentleman pulled over for me. We got to talking, and turned out that he was quite a hiker years ago. To make a long story short, this guy took me to all my stops, waiting while I did my shopping, mailing, even trading in my old worn Darn Tough socks for new ones! He was so awesome, but said he didn’t have anything to do, and many people had helped him out during his travels worldwide.
From Callehans north wildfires started to dog me, and I kept hearing about threatened trail closures. Because of this, I stepped up my pace, covering the 100 miles to Crater Lake in just 3 1/2 days, and still got there just as the Park Service closed the trail behind me. The Lake was shrouded in smoke, all but invisible, and both the Rim and PCT were closed, so I got a burger, collected my supplies, and caught a ride to where I could continue north, some 12 trail miles but much longer by road. From then on I’ve been in thunderstorms every day, and a pall of smoke from fires is always present. After a few days I emerged from the endless pine and hemlock forest and got closeup views of first Thielsen, then South, Middle and North Sisters, Mt Washington to the north. The landscape here is all volcanic; some of the flows look like they happened last week! Two nights ago was another violent storm, and I could see a new column of smoke behind me as I limped over the lava toward MacKensie Pass and the highway. Only took a minute to get a ride down into Sisters, and the motel had 1 room left! Thank you, thank you!!!
Looking south to N. Sister through the smoke, from MacKensie PassSpiker and lava field.
N. Sister and thundercloudsMt. ThielsenFellow hikers pondering next move.Trail through the smoke.Into Oregon!Small trail miracle.Fortunately for him I wasn’t hungry!Old style trail signSp?Lava trailSouth SisterObsidian Falls
I’m finally learning to listen to my body! 100 miles from Castella, every muscle and bone cried out for a zero, so I listened for once and caught a ride down into this small town 11 miles from the trail. For lack of a better plan, walked into the city hall where a very obliging woman gave me motel and hostel numbers. They being full, she called one of the councilwomen who takes in hikers, and got me a ride up there with a road crew guy! Next think I know I’m in a beautiful century-old home meeting my hosts, who refuse to take any money, whisk my disgusting clothes off to be laundered, and fill me up with burgers, corn, potato salad, and watermelon. Second floor bedroom with a fan – heaven!
This morning I went down to the local breakfast cafe and ordered up 4 huge pancakes, 2 eggs, bacon, and coffee, which I had no problems consuming. Took a short walk around town (it’s really only a main street), visited the museum, ate a pint of ice cream. As this is gold rush country, the town has been here for a long time, seeing employment change from mining to logging to ranching, and there are some well-preserved old buildings and houses. People seem to be eager to have their town on the hiker map – I helped the coffee house staff put up a huge CA PCT map on the wall. There are a few hikers here that I last saw south of the Sierra diaspora, so I’m enjoying catching up on trail news with them. The three days to Seiad, three more to Ashland, seems much more manageable now. My back is healing well, and I’ve continued with the daily dressing changes, enlisting help wherever I can find it. No pain and little drainage anymore. I’ll be back on-trail in the morning, at least that’s the plan.
Camped at Castle Crags SP with brother Dan, who kindly brought me down from Seattle, where I had been convalescing under the watchful eyes of two doctor friends – thank you Jan and Pat, and thank you to Ben, Morgan, and housemates for letting me land there. Feeling ready to go. Eight-day, 150 mile leg, so no reports for a week or so. Back on-trail!!
Well , as sometimes happens, the path north was not without unexpected twists and turns. Ok, that’s normal, right . I’m taking (more) days off up here in the city after a morning in the ER, so now have a cleaned-out abscess and veins laced with vancomycin. Oral Bactrim on the side, just for extras laughs.
My hike from Burney started well enough, easy miles mostly in the forest shade. Occasional views of Shasta, Castle Crags, Trinities. Much time spent in the forest, though.
About last Wednesday I felt a lump on my back getting larger and more tender. By Thurs I had flu-like symptoms, and from then on the fun factor diminished. Got within striking distance that night. Dragged into Castella late morning, and, too sick to care about social niceties, started asking northbound drivers for a lift. I actually got one right away, from a guy who perhaps doesn’t give lifts often. He said ok, then warned me that he was armed. Even in my fog I, had presence of mind to pull out my little one-bladed swak and told him that I, too, carried a weapon. We actually got along pretty well after that. Followed the big blue H signs to the hospital and we parted ways. Not knowing the layout, I ended up in a clinic, where I was seen for a couple minutes and given an ok abx, but half the dose I needed. Three forgettable days later I walked into the ER and got the care I needed. Boring? I was starting to think I was headed for the ICU and tubes, and ventilators and death. At the foot of Mt. Shasta!!! IE way too much time to think and a rattled brain.
Got a ride to a motel near the hospital (just in case, you know), slept some, and will eventually sally forth for DINNER!
The Flight of the Geezer 