Crossing an imaginary border can do a lot for one’s spirits. Walking into Oregon brought me back from the brink. In reality nothing had changed but knowing I was in a new state put the finish line into perspective. The rocks, trees, trail beneath my feet were all the same for now but I knew they would change soon. Oregon was not California.
Day 147 | August 22
Ashland Oregon | 18 Hiked
The first 18 miles into Oregon mostly felt the same and it wasn’t till I reached town the next day that I really felt like I had arrived. I hit the road earlier than expected which was always good when looking for a ride. A few minutes later a woman stopped and asked where I was heading. I was hoping to get to Ashland for a resupply and she was going that way. She told me she stopped when she saw my camera. We chatted about the trail and how far I had come and after hearing I was looking for a place to stay for the night she promptly offered up her couch. I was a little hesitant at first but she seemed like a nice person and also offered to drive me to the best food co-op in town.
We spent the rest of day hanging out, shopping and even had lunch. Her home was located in the heart of Ashland and I explored the small city that night before crashing out in her living room. We had breakfast in the morning and she drove me back to the trailhead. This may have been the kindest a stranger has ever been to me. The entire experience left me feeling completely refreshed and positive about getting back on trail. Something I desperately needed after Northern California. Thank you Wendy.
Days 148 to 153
Mile 1820 | 102 Hiked
The trailhead was busy that morning with a number of hikers getting back from town. I didn’t know any of them but we quickly became acquainted and told them about the incredible trail magic I had just received. A cool breeze left the sky clear of smoke and I was feeling good. So good that when I came to a detour in the trail for Pilot Rock I decided to check it out. Pilot Rock was a large rock formation you could see in the distance from Ashland. It sprouted up from the rolling hills like a miniature mountain. I was at the base after a mile of steep hiking. Getting to the top required some scrambling and light climbing. Nothing crazy but steep enough to feel sketchy on my own and it got the adrenaline going. I stood at the base and really took in Oregon for the first time. The wind was blowing hard and the sky was clear letting me see far into the distance. In my quest to be done with California I had forgotten the trail was about seeking out adventure, taking detours and having fun. This was what I was here to do.
The next few days were the coldest it had been since the Sierra. Which felt great but was a wake up call that fall was setting in. The cooler temps seemed to keep the smoke at bay or maybe the fires were just getting further off. Either way I was happy to have fresh clean air. The rolling hills of yellow grass turned to deep green forests after entering the Rouge River National Forest. Despite the name I never saw a river, only moss covered pines.
The first great mountain of the cascades appeared on the horizon today and it was a stunning sight amongst smaller rolling hills. Mt Mcloughlin was a dormant volcano that could pass for Mt Fuji. As the sun set that evening the clouds moved in and encircled its peak completing the majestic look. I entertained the idea of a detour to the summit but it would cost me a day and I was on a schedule. Alex (Fogey) was now only a few days ahead of me and we were planning to meet up just after Crater Lake.
The elevation grew and I came to a burnt out forest that went on for miles before hitting a road that led to Crater Lake National Park. It was dark when I got to the road and I had to walk another 2 miles to the campsite. The road walk was worth it though when I arrived at Mazama Village, a massive campground that had a fancy restaurant. I scarfed down some hot food, talked to some fellow hiker trash and got directions to the campsite where they let PCT hikers stay for free. At this point there may have been more Southbound hikers than Northbounders and the joyful chattering I heard in the dark campground reminded me of the social first months in Southern California. For them the party was just getting started.
Day 154 to 155
Mile 1847 | 20 Hiked | Crater Lake
In the morning I bought a few snacks at the Village store before heading back to the trail. As I was about to leave my old friend Kolohe strolled in. He was getting off trail after Crater Lake so this would be the last time I saw him. We bid farewell and expressed our hopes of crossing paths again someday.
“the window of a plane”
A short hike from Mazama Village brought me to the edge of the massive Crater Lake. The day was clear and I was able to take in the crater from rim to rim. The edge where I stood was high above the lake and I wondered how the boats on the water got there. In the middle of the lake was Wizard Island, the once summit of the great volcano that had imploded on itself to form this wonder. The island looked tiny from where I stood as if I was viewing a great landmass from the window of a plane. Tourists clamored around the edge of the lake fresh from their cars that were parked nearly on top of the caldera. I moved further down the rim trail where the the crowds thinned out taking my time to enjoy the stunning views.
At some point I realized I needed water and getting it from the lake wasn’t an option. A mile off trail all downhill was the only alternative. By the time I got back from the water source smoke had moved in obscuring the views of the lake. This was somewhat disappointing but as the sun set the smoke tinted the mini ocean in an orange haze giving it a different but equally majestic look. Just before veering off the rim trail I looked for a stealth spot to camp right on the lip of the lake. Everything was fairly open and I decided it would suck to get a ticket since camping was not allowed here and pushed on.
I made it to Diamond lake the next day after an easy 8 miles and posted up to wait for Alex. He had come off trail to hang with his parents for a few days and we were meeting here to get back on it together. I had hiked alone for over a month which was an experience I was happy to have had but frankly, I didn’t like it. Being able to make your own decisions about how far to go and when to stop was nice but the solitude really weighed on me at times. Not to mention the countless nights camping alone with no one else in sight. I know some hikers enjoy this feeling but I found it to be unnerving. The irrational fear of being alone in the woods at night is one I never got over.
Day 156
Mile 1856 | 11 Hiked | Diamond Lake
Alex arrived the next day and seeing my old friend again after so much time apart was an emotional moment. We had planned this trip together for years and never thought about getting separated. I think the break was a good experience for the both of us but dammit I was happy to have my friend back to finish. We got lunch with his parents before heading back to the PCT. We hit the trail and exchanged stories from our time apart. Everyone experiences the trail differently and comparing moments and encounters with other hikers is always enjoyable.
“Free Freaks forever”
8 Miles blew by and we came to a detour for Mount Thielsen. We had seen the peak from Diamond Lake and decided to give it a go. We stashed our packs in the tree line and started up. Loose scree and some minor scrambling brought us higher till we were just below the peak. The last 20 feet were fairly exposed class 4 climbing and we decided it would be best to not risk it. The view from the almost summit though was stunning. You could see all of Crater Lake to the South and the Oregon Cascades to the North. Both of us had become mentally fatigued in the push to get through Northern California and Thielsen was another refreshing detour in Oregon that lifted our spirits. Canada was a long way still but we were feeling good about our chances of getting there. Free Freaks forever.
Days 157 to 161
Mile 1935 | 88 Hiked
The elevation was steady and didn’t change much when passing high peaks or going through deep forests. The old growth here was some of the best I’ve ever experienced and felt untouched despite the nearby back roads. The lakes were endless. Some were small and others massive with distinct peaks surrounding them. Oregon’s flat trails were living up to the hype and we cruised along only stopping when the lakes’ sunny beaches were too tempting not to take a break.
“many beers”
Shelter Cove was a lively stop for thru hikers and we ran into a good amount of nobo stragglers like ourselves. A small canopy was set up and housed a graveyard of shoes and other abandoned gear. After many beers we pulled ourselves away from the comfortable lake resort. We got back on trail feeling straight up drunk and pushed another 5 miles debating minor political disagreements other people would find trivial. A favorite pastime of ours. The shelter we found that night was nice enough to be a house and made the perfect place to pass out after hiking off all the beers.
Day 162 to 163
Mile 1983 | 21 Hiked | McKenzie Pass
The good thing about not paying attention to everything that’s ahead on trail is the feeling of complete surprise when the scenery totally changes. We walked out of the tree line and into a vast field. On the edge of the great field were the Sisters, 3 massive volcanic peaks. Here we were, walking a flat path for days with no elevation change and were now strolling by massive snow capped peaks. The summits of each looked only a day hike away and I had to fight the urge to hike toward them. Each one fell into place as we passed by just as magnificent as the last.
Before getting to the road at McKenzie Pass smoke moved in and turned the clear day into a hazy one. We entered an area of volcanic rock that felt like we were walking on Mars.
We got to McKenzie Pass the next day where a castle constructed from lava rocks curiously stood. A hitch into the town of “Sisters” was acquired and another from there to Bend brought us to a hostel for the night. Bend is an awesome town for many reasons, one of them being the famed Ale Trail. 22 breweries run along the streets of this Oregon Mountain town and we decided to see how many we could visit that evening. Along the way we ran into some fellow nobo hikers and things got blurry. At this point of the journey all of us were missing the comforts of off trail life especially the ability to let loose and it showed most when in town.
“We sat atop the castle walls”
Leaving Bend ended up taking most of the day after stopping for more beers and we didn’t get back to McKenzie Pass till late. Since we packed out a case of PBR we decided to stay the night in the Lava Rock Castle. We sat atop the castle walls drinking our beers watching the sun set over the Sisters and Mt Jefferson to the North. Occasionally a tourist came up and nodded in confusion not quite knowing what to make us. The night was a chilly one, castles don’t insulate well.
Day 164 to 167
Mile 2047 | 43 Hiked
Abandoning our posts at the castle, we set back out. For miles the trail walked through an endless expanse of lava rock. As we walked along you could see the point of breakdown from lava rock, sand, dirt, and finally treeline. Mt Jefferson loomed on the horizon, a beacon guiding us further North. By midday we came to Big Lake Youth Camp which let hikers eat for free and stay the night. I felt like I had entered a religious cult as we ate our free meal served to us by strangers with a smile and not much else. We decided not to linger.
Rain. After 2005 miles on the PCT we finally awoke to the sound of water hitting our shelter walls. Rain jackets that had been stuffed in our packs since day one emerged into the light to finally serve their purpose. Clouds rushed in around us as we walked the ridge lines and obscured the valleys below. The dead burnt out forests mixed with the clouds creating a dreadful looking scene. Filming a horror movie here would be perfect.
“bloated dead horse”
A river crossing with a decaying bloated dead horse added to the sense of dread and after 3 days of it I started to feel down. The temperatures continued to drop adding to the discomfort. In this dark wet forest we met “Mountain Ninja” a nobo hiker from Korea who only had her shorts to hike in still. As we crossed over a mountain pass the rain turned to snow for a brief moment announcing summer was truly over.
Day 168 to 172
Mile 2146 | 99 Hiked
As we neared Mt Hood the weather relaxed and gave us a break from the rain. Everything still felt damp and misty though, a distinct charistic of the Pacific Northwest we wouldn’t shake for the rest of the trip. Little Crater Lake brighted one of our days with it’s turquoise blue water. Calling it Little Crater Lake was laughable knowing how much bigger the real Crater Lake was but I guess they both shared a similar look.
The hike up Mt Hood was a fun one, especially when we made it out of the tree line and could make out the summit above. It was a windy, cold day and the clouds were moving fast. The higher we went in elevation the more desperate for shelter we became. We knew the Timberline Lodge was waiting for us. A massive hotel constructed in the 1930s that was used as the exterior for The Shining. Once inside it’s wooden walls we shared drinks and stew with Mountain Ninja who had arrived just before us. The cozy interiors with multiple wood burning fires were hard to leave but at some point we had to head back out. When we finally did it was pitch black outside and the wind was whipping with snow coming down hard. With no clear idea of where we might be able to camp we stumbled toward the first treeline in sight. Apparently this was where everyone stealth camps near the lodge because the trees offered a perfect little spot out of the wind.
In the morning Mt. Hood’s peak was out shining bright in the early sun. The morning cold chased us back to the lodge to partake in the famous breakfast buffet. We had heard stories of the Timberline Lodge breakfast buffet since we hit Oregon and it lived up to the hype. 4 waffles later we got back on the PCT following the Timberline trail that wraps around the base of Mt. Hood. Massive valleys with cascading waterfalls poured from the summits of Hood. Huckleberry bushes were abundant with new fruit and we munched the sour treats as we walked through the dramatic landscape.
Rain continued to plague us off and on and really started coming down as we walked into Cascade Locks. It seemed the closer we got to the rainy state of Washington the more wet we became. Our moods were down but seeing the bridge that crosses into Washington lifted them. The salmon chowder in town helped as well. We checked into a hotel for the night and proceeded to get drunk while loosely planning the last leg of the trip. I decided to get all of my food here and send it ahead so we wouldn’t waste more time than needed in Washington.
The pressure was on now with a quickly approaching winter. Every hiker still pushing North was talking about snow again. The idea of flip flopping was being raised in almost every conversation. Alex didn’t seem to have a care in the world though. He sat in bed drinking beer watching Freddy Got Fingered as I packed post boxes full of ramen stressing over the time we had left to finish. Tired of thinking about it, I cracked a beer as he put on “Scream” proclaiming it to be the best film ever made. He was wrong, but right about not stressing what might lay ahead.
The Bridge of the Gods was a fitting name for the river crossing that brought us out of Oregon and into Washington. A state of massive peaks, extinct volcanoes, evergreen forests, constant rain and early snow storms. Here hikers get within 50 miles of the border and still quit. Snowstorms in the Cascades tragically catch the unprepared and not only end their hike but their lives. The feeling of pushing till the bitter end is overwhelming when you’ve come this far and we were not immune to it. When we crossed that bridge ready to face the end of our journey we felt unstoppable, we felt like gods.
Next: Washington
