Day Two – On Mondays, We Hike the PCT

walking into Lake Morena

We twitch and sweat through the night, a result of so much exertion on our bodies that are not used to this level of activity. I’m not sure how long this will last but we aren’t the only ones experiencing it. We are off to Lake Morena as we watch bunnies in the shade. We get full sun at 7am. We refill our water bottles on the RV side of the park and then walk to the PCT reserved site.

We dry our rainfly from condensation while getting more water, having breakfast, and making good use of a bathroom again. I wasn’t expecting this many flush toilets along the trail, but I appreciate them. We see our second “hiker box” which can be any container (tote, bucket, cabinet) full of things deemed no longer worthy of carrying such as sweatpants, uncooked beans, and collapsible water bottles.

trail out of the campground

Ravi says hi as our passing him yesterday made it seem possible to get here last night and now he feels ill. He’ll go into town for wi-fi as we walk into a green desert. We stopped at 11am to rest among the sticks and leaves in the shade because we are now hiker trash and are reassured that everything we have on will be dirty. Gert and Rachel soon come along and invite us to their snack break under the bridge around the corner.

leaving Lake Morena

We’re glad to see Rachel made it through her first day and has now paired up with Gert who plans to look after her (as she’s probably the same age as his two sons). They tell us that they saw Ravi and Grandpa in town. Oh, and if you thought 50 permits a day meant that many people on the trail, you were as mistaken as we were. There are only a few of us so it’s easy for trail angels to keep tabs on hikers too.

on our late morning break

We reach Boulder Oaks Campground at 1p and Rachel finds a hiker box with a thick book and a heavy beer. We take some water and stretch in the shade as they set off ahead. We passed two horseriders and a family with a dog two hours later. We are definitely getting the solitude that we revel in while outside. We reach Cibbets Flat Campground before 530pm and there are a few vans but otherwise empty.

Gert and Rachel on first water crossing

Steve (a man on a holiday weekend with his family going back to the city) tells me that kids are awesome and that I should watch out for lions, tigers, and bears on the trail. It was my trekking poles in one hand that caught his attention as he thought they were for fishing. We struggled to get here but we were determined to feel that cold creek on our feet.

It turns out that water that cleans dirty toes also works on your body and clothes, but I skip giving my hair a rinse as the sun is now behind the hill, and I’m starting to get chilly. We’re standing in our underwear, hanging our wet clothes, when Gert and Rachel join us for a dinner of carbs – noodles, pasta, rice, and quinoa – around the table. We wear our jackets to eat and bother with our tents. It’s too hot, even on a cold morning, after ten minutes on the trail to wear more than sun protection.

we’ve hiked here before

Gert is 53 and a First Lieutenant of the Royal Dutch Army, so very prepared to be here. Rachel teaches soccer to an age range of kids, so she’s got the leg strength and mental fortitude to attempt this too. Gert is one of 28 people with a certain sticker and he gifts one to Rachel to add to her bear can after surviving a second day. We are serenaded into the night by a mom singing John Denver to her toddler until he cries for her to stop.

Rachel is already much faster at setting up her tent. Ravi took a risk by ordering his on eBay and having it shipped to the Green Store, a stop on the shuttle route to camp. We completed another 16 miles and our bodies are feeling it. We agreed to a shorter day tomorrow, so we will sleep in or sleep out (depending on where you’re from).

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Day One – Diamondbacks, Switchbacks, and Sweaty Backs

on mile two of the PCT north

We start the day with peanut butter pancakes and my bag weighing in at 33.65 pounds. We’re told there are camps at 11, 15, 20, and 26 miles; so we have options. We’re the second to leave camp as Venom, who carries his food as a combined powder with a bottle of oil to wash it down, has already left an hour before we woke up with the plan of doubling our mileage for the day. I’m enjoying the trailside clothes, longboard, and plants as I would on any hike.

Bigberry manzanita

Gert is the first to catch up to us, but he won’t be the last to pass us, including two day hikers. Ravi is with Hitchhiker and we see them again when passing our second six-foot rattlesnake of the day; both choosing a loud warning over a swift attack. The trail is thin and precarious in places with lots of plants growing over the trail, but the purple and yellow flowers add beauty to the eyes and nostrils.

around mile 5

We drop our bags on the ground at 1030am and this gives Rachel time to catch up as Graham and Sara are long gone as we take breaks to stretch and take in the views. We’ll soon leave her behind again as her family helped her prep for the length of the trip in one pack so she’s carrying more weight than Caleb, for now. We find a shady spot at 1pm and again at 245pm where we can rest. I’ll have drank 2.5L at this point.

walking into the afternoon

Breakfast was missing protein so we stopped earlier to have our banana cocoa with 16oz of water to keep us fueled and hydrated. We know this desert gets hotter and appreciate the shade and every breeze as it blows. We see Gert and Ravi resting in the shade at 15 miles and should have stopped too, but the shortest break makes me feel renewed to go further.

afternoon views

We make it a mile up scree in the sun after an over ten-hour day and find a spot to sleep. Just as Caleb has the tent out of the bag, Grandpa from Germany shows up asking to share our space. He managed six miles with the amount of water needed to get through this heat which added so much weight. We scoot our tent over and cook our meals so we can all quickly pass out in total warmth.

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Day Zero

subway at Denver International

Where to start… there are so many things that books, blogs, and videos failed to convey to me before this adventure; yet we have hiked sections of it, done our research, and planned as much as possible.

snowy mountains

We flew to San Diego, took the Flyer van to the Old Town Transit station, and the shuttle van with Just Paul as our guide, who would take seven of us to the southern terminus about a half mile from Camp Lockett, where we would spend the night. We checked our bags with tent stakes and carried our bear cans with our lithium battery headlamps.

stop at REI for fuel and stickers!

Our cans were opened at security, and our oxygen absorbers were thoroughly inspected at the bottom. I repacked mine while the TSA agent only emptied half of Caleb’s when he realized it was only dry food as well. On the van we meet Gert and Ravi from the Netherlands (they had never met), Rachel from New Jersey, and Graham and Sara from New York.

me at the southern terminus

The couple goes directly to camp, opting to hike to the terminus in the morning before a 20+ mile day. The rest of us get our pictures there, and then we walk with the others to clap at the border fence (it makes a unique sound) and watch as they attempt to poke a limb through and take a picture. The 6pm campfire talk is two hours long and though not required, we feel obligated to sit through it at the end of a long day.

not pictured – Rachel on Caleb’s right

We listen to the main trail health issues (heat illness, hypothermia, and altitude sickness), hitchhiking protocols (don’t forget your bag), and the importance of maintaining water levels (Don’t die!) throughout from Just Paul, One Speed and Papa Bear who promises us pancakes in the morning. I fall asleep to the sound of barking dogs, people partying at the equestrian center, gunfire in the distance, possibly a loud bat, and some snoring.

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More Than Potatoes

Lewis and Clark Highway

Thursday morning has us driving along the Columbia River, with Washington trees and a railroad around us and Oregon across the water. Caleb points out that we will be hiking over the Bridge of the Gods on foot in a few months while on the PCT. Men-packed boats are on our left before Tunnel 1, while their trucks and trailers line the roadside on the right.

It appears to be a parade at the sight of so many watercraft, but the men are probably sharing a dry spot while they catch a meal or a paycheck. It’s a beautiful morning, one that’s great for spending time with friends or sharing pictures with them from across the country. It’s nice to have people check in with us and send dog photos that are always welcome.

I can see Mount Rainier in the distance, and from the lookout point for the B-Reactor, I feel just as close. At the visitor center for this third of the Manhattan Project trifecta (the other two locations being in New Mexico and Tennessee), we learn that the museum is on a tour-only basis, which is currently not available due to the remodeling process. There are some artifacts and photos on the wall in the theater.

I underestimated the size of this operation in every manner possible. The camp of Hanford was the largest voting precinct in the US, with the world’s largest trailer court among other housing options of residents who consumed 8,000 pounds of coffee and 30,000 donuts daily, along with meals that were planned out two months in advance so enough ingredients could be supplied to feed 50,000 workers.

The first plutonium reactor was built in just over a year on a plot half the size of Rhode Island. Now, after decades of use, Hanford is dealing with the safe dumping of radioactive waste into a new landfill and using the 12 billion dollar glassification factory to contain leaking underground containers, or at least half of them. The government and its military have a way of getting people to go where they want, especially during wartime.

Following the pictures down the hall, I noticed some large arrowhead plaques on the wall in an office, parting gifts from White Sands, Chamizal, and the Grand Tetons for the woman working behind the desk. I hope the park system is better at name spelling than the Navy, but we hear from another ranger that they can get the dates wrong. I feel these are the little important details that make someone want to display their memorabilia proudly.

Whitman Mission

This park is currently borrowing space at Xenophile Books, just two streets back, for their gift shop. We won’t find stickers to add to our growing collection, but after looking at a room dedicated to the science, engineering, and politics that went into this war project, we find sci-fi collectibles. One of the guys wearing an “I read banned books” shirt will give us a tour.

He starts with the pricy collection in the back, meaning first edition or signed copies, so there’s a range of old and new on the shelves. Next is the clarification between porn – what young women read and sleeze – what guys who live in their mom’s basement would read if they didn’t prefer video. There are books that would just look good on display and the updated childhood favorites (because not every kid born after the year 2000 knows what a telegram or negro is).

near Pomeroy, WA

It’s at this point that Caleb and I split up. We’ve been in here for almost an hour, and though I would love to take the free player piano (to make more room for books in here), we don’t have the time or space. I told the guy I’d come back for it, whether it was painted bright pink or not. Whitman Mission is entertaining two tour buses of kids and their parents, dressed for the early 1800s time period, for lunch when we arrive.

Their young and high-pitched voices will fill the Walla Walla Valley and Monument Hill during our visit. We were last here 13 years ago, and preserved places are worth visiting at least twice. Caleb is able to use that post to find the brewery where we got the yellow hot sauce and pickled veggies last time, too, Riverport Brewing. It’s recently under new ownership and had its soft opening the day before.

Riverport Brewing

Neil only comes on Friday, usually after 2 pm. until closing, so we won’t see him, but I can talk to a table of his friends, one of whom looks like Danny Devito, for almost an hour while Caleb makes a friend amongst the four cyclists sitting outside. I joined Caleb and Bob in time for a dinner recommendation and an invitation to stay the night.

We accepted both. Dinner was at Hogan’s, where we met another guy who moved here from Kalispell, MT, to escape the cold weather. I accidentally did part of an old regular’s crossword puzzle, thinking it had been left at the bar. I tried a Cold Smoke from Kettle House with my falafel burger, which was delicious. I called Bob after our meal, as agreed, and drove into Idaho. We get to meet Gary, the cat named after her brother.

Bob is full of stories, recommendations, and kindness. He leads an active and inspiring life. I wish we could meet more people like him and surround ourselves with big hearts, open minds, and grateful souls. We surprise him when we’re ready for bed, a few hours later, as he thinks we’ll sleep until after he leaves in the morning.

It’s almost as if Bob was expecting us. He told me he wants to start offering his place on Warm Showers, a service for fellow cyclists. There are plenty of blankets and towels, and his impressive home is clean and comes with a fireplace, a large backyard, and a comfy bed. We joined him in the morning for coffee and an English muffin before going to Nez Perce.

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There’s Snow on the Mountain

A benefit of hiking and camping without a car will be not having to wonder if it will continue to function as needed, though I suppose we will be thinking about the abilities of our bodies more often. We broke down camp and thought we were ready, but our vehicle had other plans. Luckily for us, we didn’t have to wait a minimum of two hours for insurance to show up since I was able to find a man with jumper cables and a battery in the park.

toy soldiers cup lichen

He was the only other person awake besides the couple who had already headed to the lake with their boat. He’s been coming here for years and tells me how his daughters used to play on the amphitheater stage. I’m guessing that as teenagers now, they don’t want to spend as much time with dad in the great outdoors. I’m grateful he’s here, and the car starts immediately.

I get in the driver’s seat, and the emergency parking brake light is flashing. The dash screen tells me to turn the brake on and off, and Caleb, the mechanic, tells me to restart the car, but our morning hero is already back through the trees so I suggest we find a garage before getting stuck. We get checked in, and they’ll install for free, so we wait the fifteen minutes and get replacement wiper blades, too.

Kautz Trail

We had our windshield replaced in mid-March and bought new wipers then, but one started to skip, and recently, the other leaves a large streak. We had the windshield replaced via warranty a few days ago, so I guess we should get new wipers… again. Not only this, Caleb notices our mail getting delivered to Florida after we “changed” our address a week ago.

It turns out the postal clerk didn’t do his job, and since we already updated our address everywhere else, Caleb isn’t able to verify his identity online (still need to go in-person now either way), so we find an open office where we’re told we should receive a confirmation email, and we do. It’s just now the mail we were expecting before the hike will have to join us on trail or wait until the winter holidays.

We’ve got breakfast in the car but need a moment to take in the shitty start to our morning (even though we know it could be worse), and we want to reset our moods. We settle on Jim Bob’s Chuck Wagon, a place that gives me a concession stand vibe, but that honors its regulars with painted chairs in their memory. We get a quick breakfast, and I already feel better.

Six miles before Mount Rainier National Park, there are signs asking drivers not to block driveways and intersections while they wait to enter the park. There is no line today, and the weather has allowed part of the park roads to open with a warning of ice possible, which I find acceptable. We stopped at Kautz Trail to take in the rich and wet environment. This is what I expected at Olympic, but the park must be in its dry season… just after snow melt.

It’s a good thing we spend so much time on one of these lower elevation trails, as we are in for a treat. We have a look around the Lingmore Museum, which is going through a renovation, and make our way towards Paradise Inn. The temperature drops 20°F and is actively snowing when we reach the two-story building. Yes, we stopped along the way to see the mountains and many waterfalls.

We see three black-tailed deer and have to tell a guy to stop feeding the beautiful blue birds and their female companions because it’s illegal to do so in the park. I should have told him that if he doesn’t think the animals have enough to eat, he can donate money or speak to his representative to reserve more land for them to have available. There’s pricey (given the delivery route) food inside, and we decide on peach cobbler in a bag.

Fort Vancouver

It’s trail food, but something we haven’t tried yet, and it’s delicious while looking at this glacier-swept park covered in clouds and gusts of wind. I’m able to cruise all but a half mile down and out of the park, but no more deer shall we see. Fort Vancouver is southwest of here and close to the big city limits. I was hoping for an hour and a half of discovery, but I would take the 17 minutes left to see inside any buildings as the grounds stay open.

We park outside the gate and power lunge ourselves over the grassy expanse. The fort has a lovely view and some interesting details. The post surgeon also worked as the medicine dispenser for two dozen other forts, managed the Indian Trade Shop, issued provisions to the kitchen, and rations to the 200 employees. He recorded the weather, sent specimens to Great Britain, and managed the library.

view from the Bastion

Inside the Bastion, we learn that the fort was built in 1829, and the Hudson’s Bay Company was less concerned with the local Native Americans population that they had drastically reduced with malaria than they were Oregon Trail settlers. This still wasn’t enough to motivate them to build a defense mechanism greater than the fort walls until 1844, when they were unable to return a gun salute from a British ship.

Also, inside the three-floored structure are just two of the many state park representatives who meet annually at different parks to discuss the state of things and make plans for the future. I let them know that it will have to do to sacrifice part of the parks to raise awareness, like a whale in a zoo, so that people will care at least a little bit. The guy from Alaska likes my analogy.

Columbia River

We are able to slip into another building, but as we admire the modern bright blue walls, a ranger has arrived to inform us that closing time is now. We thank him and see our way to the gate, just as the blacksmith and another fort worker are leaving for the day. Through the garden with pansies and radishes and across the field with the bush-like tree-home in the middle, complete with two bags of food and a pair of shoes.

We stopped early today at Beacon Rock so I could make dinner while Caleb set up the bedroom. Last night, the ramen was too spicy. Tonight’s version came with cheese powder, and only some of the spicy and oily sauce that coats our pots, spoons, and lips with a red-orange tinge of tastiness. With the evidence rinsed away, we are free to entertain ourselves. A spider attempts to invite himself, and we make haste into the tent.

spicy noods

My pillow was found to have a hole in it last night. We patched it, but it still slowly drained under my head, so Caleb filled it with clothes and traded me for the night. The gesture is sweet, but his cover could’ve had the drool washed off first, though that would leave it wet and cold, things we don’t invite into our sleeping chamber.

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