Cascade Locks to White Pass
Sunday, 8/26/00: In Which I Cross the Bridge of the Gods But Can Barely Hike at Mortal Speed
Ellie took me back to Cascade Locks and walked me to the Bridge of the Gods. With its metal grating that allows you (if you’re foolish enough) to look down at the Columbia River a couple hundred feet below you. I think of it more as the Bridge from Hell. However, I did much better than last year (when I crossed in controlled terror staring fixedly at the opposite shore) and was even able to look around a bit without panicking.
By 8:30 I was on the Washington bank, took my trekking poles out and started on the day’s climb. This area is pretty brushy both naturally and due to clearcuts. I exchanged a few words with a backpacker coming down who told me the uneven, rocky tread would continue for a few miles.
I stopped and got water at a spring I camped near last year. This water would have to last me until I reached Rock Creek about 14 miles away. With the water and 6 days worth of food my pack weighed around 45 pounds and I had to now lug it uphill about 3000 feet.
The best I can say about that trudge is that it was fairly cool due to a cold air mass and a few clouds. There was a detour partway up due to massive blowdowns across the trail. They (probably the Washington Department of “Natural Resources” that likes to put up signs bragging of their forest stewardship) had clearcut within a few feet of the PCT, leaving some trees as a buffer. With the ground around their roots disturbed and the protection of the neighboring trees gone, these trees promptly blew over in the first strong wind, thoroughly blocking the trail. So where does the detour run? Right through the middle of the clearcut on the road used to log it! Near the top of the ridge I met a couple of dayhikers picking huckleberries that, quite impressed with my trek, gave me a handful of the berries.
From there I ambled down, losing most of the elevation I’d gained, and arrived at Rock Creek about 5 where I had dinner. Though pretty tired having done 20+ miles already, I decided to climb another 2000 feet to get up the next ridge before morning.
In my haste to depart I miscalculated the distance and instead of reaching the top by 7:30 I got there after 8 and didn’t have time to find a decent place to sleep, so ended up on the edge of the trail. I’m out of the way so any late-night hikers can get by, but I doubt I’ll see any.
Sunday, 8/27/00: In Which I Meet One of the Yo-Yo’s and Struggle On to Just Shy of Indian Heaven’s Door
I was awake before 6 and managed to start hiking by 7. First I hiked mostly level along Sedum Ridge and dropped down towards Trout Creek. On the way down I met one of the guys trying to yo-yo (go from Mexico to Canada and back to Mexico in one year) and talked briefly as we passed. At Trout Creek I got water and started the generally flat traverse to Panther Creek where I arrived at 11:15.
I ate here and stocked up on water. The next source (uncertain) was 10 miles away, not particularly far until you realize it requires a climb of more than 3000 feet. I started with enthusiasm passing four dayhikers even though I was carrying over 40 pounds. I also met a couple of southbounders who were doing Washington.
As my pace began to lag I came to the conclusion I couldn’t take a full stride any more. It is like I try to take a long step and end up with a ¾ one. I’m worried that my 5-day rest at home has affected me both physically and mentally because I just can’t seem to go like I did.
As I approached where I thought the spring was I didn’t see it and did not recall it from my last time by here. Finally, when I was sure that even at my diminished pace I had passed what no doubt was now a dry spring, I stopped to cook dinner with little water I had. While I was waiting for the water boil, I looked down the trail 50 feet and there was a sign to the spring. On investigation there was a rudimentary table nearby, so I moved everything there, enjoying my meal and plenty of water.
From there I hiked on a ways and then began skirting a lava flow for about 3 miles. At the end of that I came to a road and an empty campground (no water). Since it was nearly dark I decided to stay there and enjoy the luxury of a picnic table.
Monday, 8/28/00: In Which I Pass Through Indian Heaven Wilderness and Approach the Mount Adams Wilderness
I got up at dawn, took advantage of the outhouse and was off by 7. I passed a couple of small lakes I would have had to use for water if I hadn’t found the spring, which certainly made me glad I did. I climbed up into Indian Heaven Wilderness with some nice view east, south and west, and then stopped at Blue Lake for a break. There were a bunch of noisy young people there, which made it easy to move on.
I passed several lakes, stopping at Deer Lake for water. I dropped down out of wilderness towards the road in prime huckleberry ground, but they had almost all been picked so no one was around. It was fairly easy travel from there though I decided to skip the next water stop (a lake outlet) when the stream was stagnant and had a beaver dam.
I had dinner at a camp site by Trout Creek where I met Ant Newman two years ago waking up to discover mice had eaten into his food bags. From there I climbed 3 miles to a ridge leaving me a mostly downhill trek to the start of Mount Adams Wilderness. I still haven’t seen any northbound thruhikers since I crossed into Washington.
Tuesday, 8/29/00: In Which I Pass Around the West Side of Mount Adams and Am Surprised by Rain and A Bee
I got a 7 AM start and rolled downhill to the trailhead on the road outside Mount Adams Wilderness where I passed a woman brushing her teeth and a llama. On the long climb up to the junction of the PCT and the Round the Mountain Trail I caught and passed Chad, the guy completing his 1977 hike with his old Kelty pack. I mentioned to him the “no campfire” signs I’d seen at the trailhead and said I worried somewhat we could get thrown off the trail because of fire danger. Chad said this was exactly why he stopped in ’77, which made me worry a bit more.
By midmorning, however, clouds started to thicken and my visions of a series of photos of the Mountain from different angles ended. I saw various hikers, but no northbounders.
The high point of the day was taking a break at the best campsite on the PCT, right at the foot of the Killen Creek cascade with a view (on clear days anyway) of Mount Adams. I wish I could have stayed but Canada beckoned.
The bridge over Muddy Fork had collapsed and I had an exciting time crossing it on wobbly boards running to a rock in the middle. I had dinner at Lava Spring, maybe the best water on the trail.
From there I hiked on to the Midway Creek area and looked for a campsite mentioned in the guidebook. When I didn’t find it I made my own off the trail. The hike after dinner was accompanied by a light rain/mist, which made the tarp a necessity. As I was putting it up a bee stung me by my right eye. I think it got caught under the rim of my glasses and panicked. Trying to get the tarp up and keep everything dry made me realize what a challenge this would be in a serious rainstorm. Hopefully I won’t see any.
Wednesday, 8/30/00: In Which Even a Swollen Eye Doesn’t Stop Me From Getting an Eyeful of the Goat Rocks
It dripped most of the night but the tarp kept me dry, though the condensation inside got some things wet. My right eye was almost swollen shut, but having no mirror I couldn’t see how bad it was. Regardless, I broke camp and departed.
The rain had stopped and the sun was trying to make it through, but the brush was sopping wet. My rain pants kept my legs dry this time, but my feet were soaked all morning. Because it was so wet and no dry place to stop I skipped my morning break and hiked until almost 1 when I stopped by Walupt Creek. The sun came out from behind the clouds at least part of the time and I got most everything but shoes and socks dried out.
From there I began the hike through the spectacular part of the Goat Rocks Wilderness, which I had entered mid-morning. I climbed and eventually reached a saddle with snow on the border of the Yakima Reservation. The trail stays on native land with great views, which improve at Cispus Pass in a couple of miles. From there I made a long traverse around the Cispus River drainage, which included a nice waterfall.
That led to the climb up to the Goat Rocks themselves. At one point just before crossing Packwood Glacier there was a great view of Mount Rainier in the distance. The glacier was easy to cross, but the real thrills started after that. First you cross a slope that has two steep snow banks. The rest of the trail in this area can best be described as a slow-moving rock slide with each hiker (forget horses!) contributing to the slippage of the “trail.”
Once that is done you’re left with the knife-edge climb for two miles over the Goat Rocks themselves. Generally I felt safer here because the trail was on solider ground even if I was peering thousands of feet down on either side to the glacial-carved valleys. Despite my vertigo I was really glad to enjoy the views this time. It is certainly one of the most memorable sections of the whole PCT.
From there it was a gradual downhill to treeline and eventually to Lutz Lake where I camped. I know there is at least one thruhiker ahead of me because the three people camped there also asked me if I was from back East too. It seems they had met several thruhikers, all from Pennsylvania and places like that.
Thursday, 8/31/00: In Which I Find All the Thruhikers When I Do Resupply at White Pass
I slept out without the tarp last night (I just like it better) even though there were lingering clouds and fortunately didn’t get wet. Still there were clouds around as I left but some hope the sun would break through.
Within the first hour I caught up with Steve from Pennsylvania and we exchanged news. Turns out he was Herman’s former partner and knew he made it back ok, though he had a bout of giardia after I left him in Castella. Steve and I passed each other several times during the day and talked more each time.
The sun made an attempt to come out but finally gave in to heavy black cumulus clouds and a brisk wind, especially bad on the ridge around Shoe Lake.
From there it was basically downhill to White Pass. I stopped at Ginette Lake to clean up a bit and eat a bite. There another thruhiker passed looking for two others I hadn’t seen (probably took the shortcut I told him). Two horse packers with two pack animals and two dogs went by the other way. One of the dogs jumped in the lake and then knocked my water bottle over with his filthy leg. At least he didn’t shake himself dry on me.
When I got to the White Pass store to get my box there were lots of hikers there, coming and going. There was Steve, of course, who was talking to Don (aka the Abominable Slow Man), finishing the trail in two years. Hugh was just leaving to climb Rainier, while Alan from Portland was taking off to hike towards Chinook Pass where he had a ride home tomorrow afternoon. There were a few others plus a group of cyclists that I didn’t do more than say “hi” to as I wanted to get going. I called Ellie and got a pretty grim weather forecast for Friday through Wednesday: showers, rain, rain, showers, showers and scattered showers respectively. Oh, well, I’m in this for better or worse, wet or dry.
I headed back to the trail to get some miles in before the weather got worse, for there were still thick clouds and a brisk wind. I climbed into the William O. Douglas Wilderness and stopped for dinner at Buesch Lake. While there a couple of horse packers showed up and I told them they could have the campsite as I had miles to do still. They offered me some “real food” (chicken) that I politely declined. They also said they heard a major change in the weather for the better was upcoming. We’ll see.
It sprinkled a bit on me as I headed on. A little before dark I found a nice spot in the trees off the trail, put the tarp and got ready for bed.