Month: September 2016

Last night’s somewhat exposed campsite was surprisingly warm. I woke up refreshed, and packed up my gear with fingers that were not numb.

Cow Patty stopped by while we were packing up. I learned that part of her secret to carrying a tiny pack was that the pockets of her jacket and her wool shawl were stuffed to capacity. And it was a big shawl. She bade farewell, and set off. We were not long after, but we had slept late, so we had a 9AM start.

Nevertheless, it was a slow day. Everything seemed like it would be a long walk away.

By noon, we’d only gone around 8 miles. Elizabeth looked up the weather forecast, and saw that it was supposed to start raining around 8 tonight. Her sciatica had been bad last night, too, so we decided to try to get into town tonight, and stay at the Snoqualmie Summit Inn — a dry room, and no hunching over in a tent sounded appealing.

The problem was, it was noon, and there were still 24 miles to go. So we decided to skip lunch, and got moving.

Skipping lunch was a questionable choice. It’s like burning your blanket to keep warm — you’re going to regret it later. So when we ran into a trail angel cooking lunches, we were easily convinced to stay and eat.

I’d been eating nothing but trail mix and energy bars since White Pass. I didn’t want to spend time cooking, and it seemed like a reasonably balanced non-cook diet. I’ve since decided that was a bad idea — there’s only so many peanuts and raisins one can stand in a short time.

So, when Theresa the Trail Angel made me taco soup, it nourished me far more than the calorie count suggested.

Then, it was time to hike again. I didn’t take many pictures, I’m afraid, since I knew it would get darker and darker the more time I dilly-dallied.

But after hours, I started to see signs of civilization.

For the last few miles, it was dark, muddy, and rocky. By flashlight, we picked our way down the rough trail towards town.

And soon enough, by about 9PM, we had a warm room, and pancakes.

268 miles left.

Unsurprisingly, the night was cold, and the morning was cold. I’m getting awfully tired of aching fingertips.

On the bright side, it never properly rained today. Just fog with a bit of mist.

Though I can’t stand the climate, it seems that mushrooms feel differently. There were many varieties by the trailside here.

Washington couldn’t decide how to treat me today. Sometimes it was misty whiteout, other times the sun shone clearly.

We kept passing, then being passed by, the homeless-looking woman from yesterday. She was really fast, and her unusual gear choices were likely a big help.

It was never exactly warm today per se, but the direct sun could dry out our condensation-soaked gear.

One of the people drying gear in the meadow was the woman I’d thought was homeless. Her name was Cow Patty, and she lived near Ashland. Today, it happened, was her 67th birthday. Everybody sang Happy Birthday, but we were unable to produce a cake.

Since it was labor day weekend, locals were out hiking. We also saw horseback riders, ATV drivers, and heard a lot of gunshots.

The trail for the rest of the day was much like Northern California — hillside trails with few views, and much clearcutting. Except, here it was 40 degrees colder.

We kept on moving, trying to keep warm, until hours later, it was time for camp. I don’t like Washington.

301 miles left.

Last night was cold. I woke up a few times shivering. Condensation had formed on my quilt, making its down less effective. Why can’t every tentsite be heated like White Pass?

At least it wasn’t raining. Much. We set out in a light mist.

Though it wasn’t raining, it was very cold, so I wore both my pairs of gloves most of the day. This kept me from taking many pictures again — sorry.

The trail took us by the Dewey Lakes, which were a popular hike for locals. This being Labor Day weekend, it was busy. I asked a middle-aged couple if they’d seen the weather forecast, and they had good news: No more than 20% chance of rain for the weekend, and it was common for the area to have a couple days of rain before going back to sunshine this time of year.

So, there was hope that the rest of the hike wouldn’t be miserable.

As if on cue, the sky started to show blue patches. As we approached the Chinook Pass trailhead the sky was looking downright nice.

Just beyond the pass, scenery began to show itself.

We even got some direct sunlight, and dared to spread out our wet gear to dry

In about 20 minutes it was drizzling again, but at least my quilt had mostly dried.

We passed a woman in her 50s sleeping by the side of the trail, drying her gear. At first glance, she looked homeless, but closer inspection showed that her gear was carefully chosen, some quite expensive, and stored in a remarkably small backpack. She wasn’t homeless, just an expert at lightweight backpacking.

The rest of the day was mostly made up of easy, though cold, hikes along the hillside. We reached a suitable tentsite at the end of the day, and pitched our tents and went to sleep.

324 miles left.