Thursday, August 26, 2010

The End of Days

Hi everyone, I'm writing today from my cousin Megan's house in Seattle, having truly finished my thru-hike nearly a week ago.

Ed, Straight Jacket and I left Skykomish together, getting a lucky hitch from a hiker girl passing through the area. Given that it was only a few days up to Stehekin, we ended up sticking together for the most part as the trail made its way into Glacier Peak Wilderness. This really was one of my favorite sections on the entire trail; perhaps there is some bias due to the fact that it is so near the end, but the views were awesome and just kept getting better. There was a minor scare when a forest fire started over a nearby ridge, but fortunately it never got close enough for us to see. For a night the air got thicker and the sunset darker, but the burn stayed out of sight and must have died down relatively quickly.

While we did manage to avoid one catastrophy, signs of older cataclysms were evident all throughout this section. In 2003 and 2005, fires, avalanches and mudslides brought on by storms ruined the 50 or so miles of trail to the west of Glacier Peak. As a result, the Forest Service officially closed the trail there and created an inferior detour around the east side of the mountain. For several years the original trail was unmaintained and impassable, but that didn't stop thru-hikers from trying anyway. In recent years there has been a huge effort to reconstruct the path, and fortunately it was largely finished by the time we arrived. We passed several trail crews who had been blasting new tread and cutting out blowdowns, apparently over 100 at last count. Some areas were still completely overgrown with brush however, and the general difficulty of the section made it slow, if beautiful, hiking for a few days. The views of Glacier Peak from Red's Pass were astounding, with rocky, ice carved valleys giving way to meadows of wildflowers and shadowed forests punctuated by fast running creeks. Eventually Ed, Straight Jacket and I made it to High Bridge Ranger Station and the road to Stehekin after hiking an exhausting 30 miles nonstop in order to catch the shuttle into town.

Our arrival at the town was somewhat awkward however. We, being the first straight-through hikers of the season for several thousand miles, had become accustomed to being greeted by south bounders, day hikers and people in town as such. Unfortunately, several yellow-blazers (i.e. hitchhikers) had skipped around us and were claiming to be the head of the pack, gloating to the locals while leaving out the fact that they had access to a car. As we arrived at the ranger station, these 4 were on their way out, basically putting them a full day ahead of us. I, not really giving a damn about the status of a few lazy hitchers, decided to head into Stehekin for the night, seeing as everyone raves about how great the town is. Ed and Straight Jacket opted to simply resupply at the local bakery and head out immediately in order to beat the pretenders to the border, thereby missing a great town stop and a chance to relax before hitting the terminus. I said goodbye, and had to see their tracks ahead of me for the last 80 miles (ironically, I still beat the others to Canada somehow. I think they took one more town stop at highway 20). Stehekin was beautiful, and I'm glad I stayed; less a town than a resort, it sits on the end of Lake Chelan and is inaccessible except by boat, seaplane, or boot. The nearest town is a 4 hour boat ride down the 50 mile lake, which is one of the deepest in the U.S. and boast sheer cliffs that drop straight down to the water. The food was excellent, the locals and tourists were friendly, and hitting the bakery in the morning gave me the best resupply I could hope for for my last few days.

Upon leaving town, alone this time, I immediately ran into a few black bears. Normally, this would be no cause for alarm, but given that I was laden with freshly baked treats, I was a little more wary than usual. Fortunately there was a large group of horse riders heading up the trail as well, so I wasn't too worried. I even had the chance to race them for a good 20 miles as they too were heading up the PCT; it was a close call, with them having to take frequent breaks as I simply busted up the trail, but sadly the hare won this time. They passed me just minutes before hitting their trailhead at Rainy Pass.

From this point on, I was in a strange situation. My mom and sister were due to arrive several days after I left Stehekin and were planning on picking me up at Rainy Pass... a full 60 miles south of the terminus. This meant I had to hike up to the border, then turn around and come back. For a thru-hiker, backtracking is practically unheard of; we typically shun it to a comical degree, to the point where heading 20 feet back down the trail is a cardinal sin. In that light, 60 miles is blasphemy. Thankfully, the last section was some of the most stunning yet encountered, so the bitter reality of the trek back was lessened somewhat. To be truthful, I was looking forward to being able to relax and have a leisurely hike back with the chance to run into some old friends. The North Cascades are great, and I was lucky to have some superb weather on my last stretch. The area is a full of granite spires and crags, green valleys, dense woods, and distant, snow covered peaks wreathed in clouds. With alot of side routes providing access to the PCT, the trail was somewhat crowded at times, but the day hikers were friendly and the company was welcome.

Despite the plethora of trail folk in the area, I was still surprised to find several other people at the border monument while I was there. It is a rather unimpressive thing, and aside from the fact that there is a giant clear cut creating a 20 foot wide swath through the forest, there seems to be little reason to take a day hike out to see it. None-the-less, I was accompanied by 4 others when I reached the terminus, a huge achievement accomplished. Due to my situation however, I felt more simple satisfaction than pure elation; I still had another 60 miles of rather strenuous hiking to do. After a celebration feast of a cinnamon roll (hiked out from the Stehekin bakery) and blackberry brandy, I turned around and started the trek back south. Given that I had plenty of time before my pickup date, I tried to take it easy, ramping down my mileage each day. Going from 40 to 35, then 30, 25, 15 and finally a laughable 5 miles a day felt like luxury in the perfect weather which, ironically, only turned slightly sour on the last day. Without cell service, and not having talked to my mom or sister in a week, I was somewhat worried that there would be some sort of hang up and I would be left sitting at the trailhead for hours in the rain, but mercifully they arrived exactly on time.

Well. That's about it for now. Much has happened since then, I've probably droned on long enough, so I'll get to that later, along with the photos. The flight home is tomorrow and soon I'll find myself with oodles of time and no daily ritual to space it with, so who knows where to go from here? Already the thoughts of the Continental Divide Trail have started, but that is far in the indeterminate future for me. I'm still waiting for the reality of the fact that I'm done hiking to hit me. For now, sleep. Or waking. Who knows.

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