Sisters (OR) to Bridge of the Gods (WA)

(OOPS, I ACCIDENTALLY UPLOADED THIS ENTRY AFTER MY ENTRY FOR SOUTHERN WA.  ALSO, THIS ENTRY ORIGINALLY POSTED FROM MY ANDROID PHONE)

Well, I'm behind on updating my blog (like usual), so I figured I should get to it now that I am currently [when I started writing this post] halfway through WA.  I downloaded the Blogger app for my phone, so we'll see how well blogging works when done in a tent using a micro-keyboard...

After cursing much of southern Oregon for its mosquitoes and lack of scenery, the section after Sisters was a pleasant surprise.  My memory of the first few days is a bit sketchy, but I remember that everyone was pretty excited to be out of the (really bad) bugs and was looking forward to Timberline Lodge's All-You-Can-Eat breakfast.  I also got to meet some new faces on this section by hiking with Annie, Data Muffin, and Topsy Turvy (I had seen them previously, but we never really talked extensively).  The trail first started to get interesting as we approached Mt. Jefferson.  Mt. Jefferson is one of the first major volcanoes that you encounter while traveling northwards through the Cascade range.  Whereas the Sierras strike me as a fairly uniform range where the size of the mountains gradually changes, the Cascades are characterized by massive volcanoes dotting a landscape of comparably smaller mountains.  From south to north you have: Shasta, Jefferson, Hood, Adams, St. Helens, Rainier, and Baker.  I could see the crooked precipice of Mt. Jefferson from a day or two away, and it was fascinating to see the details of its glaciers as I got closer.  At one point we had to cross a milky-white (as a result of fine sediment/silt particles produced by glacial ice grinding against the volcanic rocks above) glacial stream and couldn't help but laugh about how much things had changed since the Sierras.  None of us would have thought twice about walking straight through that stream in the Sierras since keeping shoes dry was just a lost cause.  Yet dry shoes have been a guarded luxury since escaping the Sierras, and we spent over 10 minutes trying to find a dry route before giving up and splashing through.

That evening we camped next to an alpine lake in the lush meadows of "Jefferson Park".  For once I was actual able to enjoy a lakeside view since the temperature dropped low enough to keep the mosquitoes down.  I somehow ended up being the first one out of camp the next morning (I'm usually kidding myself anytime I set an alarm earlier than 5:55 AM) and was quickly able to justify having lugged my microspikes from Crater Lake.  There were still several large snowfields on the north-facing slopes that had to be traversed after climbing out of Jefferson Park and I hit them just after the sun came up.  The snow was hard and icy as would be expected that early in the day, but they were no problem at all with the microspikes.  I felt a bit sorry for Wet Smoke, the only other hiker out there at the time, as he gingerly made his way down the ice.

After Mt.  Jefferson came Mt. Hood and Timberline Lodge.  Annie, Data Muffin, Topsy Turvy, and I all camped at various points along the ridge that were above treeline and close to Timberline Lodge the night before heading in for breakfast.  Although the night was probably the coldest that I've had all trip (woke up to frost on my tent and pack), it was worth it to see the sunset over Mt. Hood.  As for the breakfast, things on the trail often get hyped up and we didn't want to get too optimistic about all the rumors describing an amazing spread.  Fortunately Timberline Lodge lived up to the hype.  Eggs, pancakes, seasoned potatoes, fresh fruit, make-your-own waffle bar with all sorts of toppings (berries, chocolate, nuts, whipped cream...), house-made toasted granola, milk, OJ, AND amazing coffee.  It might have cost $15, but I'm pretty sure everyone ate more than their money's worth.  I walked around the historic building to get a closer look at its craftsmanship as I digested. My understanding is that it was commissioned in the 1930's to make work for unemployed woodworkers, stone masons, and other craftsmen.

I left the lodge feeling sluggish from all the food, but I needed to push some miles for the day to set myself up for a quicker arrival at Cascade Locks.  Cascade Locks would be my last town stop before entering Washington, and I wanted to get in on Friday before the post office closed for the weekend.  As a result, I ended up popping a caffeine pill and hiking well after dark.  I'm not a big fan of hiking at night since it's easy to stub my toes and it can get pretty creepy, but it's still fun to do once in a while.  At one point I could look back through a break in the trees and an orange glow caught my eye on the horizon.  I realized that I was staring at the flames of a forest fire (many miles away), and I later learned that I had narrowly escaped trail closures that forced hikers behind me to skip sections of the trail.

Although I overslept my alarm, I still got up early enough to take the Eagle Creek alternate route (a more interesting trail, but too narrow and crowded with day hikers for equestrians on the PCT) and grab my packages from the post office.  In addition to five more days of food, I got new shoes AND new socks!  My feet were very happy thereafter.  I decided to camp for two nights so that I could catch a true zero-day, and I timed it perfectly to coincide with PCT Days.  PCT Days is an annual event for the trail community that draws together past and present thru-hikers, trail angels, gear vendors, and anyone else with an interest in the trail.  There was a gear demo/sale, raffle to benefit the PCTA, and screening of the documentary Six Million Steps.  It was also a good time to catch up with hikers that I hadn't seen for a while.  Wired was there on account of taking a few days off to go into Portland, Balls and Sunshine were there after taking six days off for a badly-infected blister on Sunshine's foot, and Thumper (now off-trail) was there with his wife Stumbling Goat (got off-trail partway through the Sierras, it's a long story) to serve up lots of burgers and breakfast burritos.  Oh, and it all took place on "Thunder Island" in the Columbia River.  Thunder Island was separated from the "mainland" about 100 years ago when Cascade Locks was constructed to facilitate commerce up and down the river.  Back then, long before dams along the the river calmed things down, there was an impassable series of rapids that had to be portaged around.  Now of course the lock/canal is a historic footnote, but the town is still alive with tourists.  The next morning (actually, it was after noon by the time I had finished two breakfasts), I walked across The Bridge of the Gods with Cricket into the final frontier: Washington!  

Welcome to Washington

(THIS ENTRY POSTED FROM MY MOBILE PHONE.)

After crossing the Bridge of the Gods, I made a great first impression on some local day-hikers by dropping a very long string of four letter words.  I had just been stung on the back of my leg by an unnecessarily angry wasp, and I was none too happy about the rude welcoming to the state.  I was stung again the following day on my other leg for no good reason, and I began to wonder what I had ever done to piss off the insect population of Washington.  Perhaps it was a preemptive strike on their part for what happened the day after that.  Cricket and I had caught up to Headbanger, and we were all looking for a place to sit down for lunch.  Unfortunately we were in an area overgrown with vegetation and devoid of good logs to sit on.  When we finally did come to a trail-side log that I thought would make a good bench, my Leave-No-Trace ethics broke down and I began to hack away at the surrounding brush with my trekking poles.  I just wanted to clear some space for our legs and it didn't look like the brush would have the slightest trouble regrowing.  This was a mistake.  As luck would have it, I was hacking away right above a hidden bees nest - and they did not approve.  Before I knew it I was hopping the "bee dance" while cursing, swatting, and running a few yards down-trail.  I ended up with three stings to the knee, one to the wrist, and one right beneath my shoulder.  We concluded that we were not welcome at that log and pressed on to another lunch spot.

Aside from a few bee attacks, and more than one ravaging encounter with mosquitoes, the first five days in WA treated me pretty well.  In the areas that required a lot of climbing, I was at least treated to spectacular views of Mt. Adams.  Mt. Ranier may be the largest peak in Washington, but the PCT doesn't get closer than 12 miles from its base.  However, the trail wraps around the behemoth of Mt. Adams just several days out from Cascade Locks.  It was awesome.  When the trail dove away from the mountain and into a brushy "green tunnel", it also flattened out so that it was easy to push big miles.  However, the real highlight of this section was Goat Rocks.

I had heard that Goat Rocks was one of the most scenic and challenging sections of Washington - and I was not disappointed on either account.  To start with, I had perfect weather, brilliant sunlight, AND a light pack (it was my last day before White Pass, so I had eaten most of my food at that point).  When the scenery is amazing and the trail in good condition, I'll take steep climbs over flat trail any day.  As the trail climbed from our campsite, the views just kept getting better and better.  The wild flowers were in full bloom at ground level.  Further on the horizon, we were surrounded by snow-clad peaks.  It was truly awe-inspiring.
After a few hours of hiking, we came to a juncture where we could chose between the "hiker" route or the "stock" route.  It was clear from our maps that the hiker route just shot straight up an extra 1,000 feet only to drop straight back down again - a classic P.U.D. (Pointless Up and Down).  Being hikers and not horses, we chose this route anyway.  When we finally reached the end of what was probably the steepest series of switchbacks I've encountered on the trail (I can't compare against the Sierras since all the switchbacks were buried in snow last I "cut" them), we stopped for lunch atop a rocky pinnacle. 

While we were doing lunch, we got cell reception and a call from Headbanger's dad saying that he was already at White Pass.  Not only did he have a room with bunk beds - real beds! - to sleep in, but he was also cooking steak and potatoes for all the hikers passing through.  It would mean another 18 miles, but we decided that this was too good of an offer to turn up.  So we proceeded to haul ass down a knife's edge ridge covered in loose shale.  It was exhilarating to practically run down the spine of Goat Rocks surrounded by nothing but open sky and sunshine!  It also brought back a lot of good memories of trail running in the Wasatch Mountains from last summer; a subtle reminder of things I gave up to do this trail.

It was a long and exhausting day, but Cricket, Headbanger, and I made it to White Pass just after dark.  Instead of camping at a swampy and mosquito infested lake, we got showers, beds, and tons of freshly cooked food.  The next morning we made our resupply runs at the "Kracker Barrel" general store.  The ladies running the place were awesome and very kind to thru-hikers (I hope that the staff from Echo Lake Resort and the Old Station general store/Hat Creek Resort make it up here at some point so that they can learn a few manners!).  My resupply box didn't arrive on time, but the store agreed to forward it ahead to Stevens Pass for me as soon as it came in.  Fortunately the store was surprisingly well stocked for hiker needs.  Headbanger and Cricket headed out a few hours before me, so I left for the next leg of the journey with Liz, Meow Meow, and Funyan.     

Photos for Washington

For anyone interested in the rest of my photos from Washington, the public Facebook album can be viewed at:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.886371881609.2348577.12820170&l=4aaa7920b6&type=1