Washington, the last state of the PCT, a return to where my love for hiking began. We crossed the Columbia River on September 9th knowing that fall was quickly setting in. A big snow storm in the Cascades can make the last 50 miles of the trail impassable or worse, deadly. Other hikers were flipping up to the border to hike South and avoid any chance of snow. The leaves were changing color and the nights growing colder. On top of that Washington was still on fire and sections of the trail that led to the border were closed. The rainy season had set in and would surely put those fires out but that meant cold, wet days were ahead.
Days 174 to 178 | Sept 17
Mile 2269 | 122 Hiked | Cascade Locks
We crossed the Bridge of the Gods and entered the state of Washington ready to make the final push to Canada. From the road the trail rose steeply giving us a view of the landmarks we would soon be passing. Three dormant volcanoes dominating the Cascade range. Mt Adams, Mt Saint Helens and Mt Rainier. Classic summits that make the Pacific Northwest a premier destination for alpinists and lovers of mountains. We made camp in a clearing with a perfect view of these mighty summits. The air filled with moisture as the sun was setting, mixing the orange, pink and blue hues like spilled paint on a canvas.
The evergreen state lived up to its name as we descended into the damp, overgrown forests where moss and ferns covered all available space. Mushrooms the size of my head grew in abundance and I stopped regularly to photograph the many species of fungi that caught my eye. In true Northwest fashion the air was damp making everything wet. The constant drizzle wasn’t rain but it was just as frustrating. The trail here was honestly monotonous, treading up and down without much change and zero views.
Mt Adams 4 days prior had loomed in the distance but today we arrived at its base. The next 15 miles were spent walking around the dormant volcano. Each break in the trees offered a new view of it’s snowy crags and ancient glaciers. The clouds burned off in the afternoon and changed the view of the mountain one last time before the trail veered off and continued North. Everyday was a big mile day now and when we arrived at camp to find a small icy pool we didn’t pass up the chance to soak our feet.
That night it rained hard and in the morning it was still going. There’s nothing worse than breaking down camp in the rain and we did our best to stay dry under the pines. Normally we might take the opportunity to sleep in and let the rain pass but this wasn’t a normal time, this was the final push. The falling temperature made the rain even more miserable but I was lucky to be feeling strong otherwise. Poor Alex who rarely complains about aches and pains was struggling with every step. A nagging case of shin splints had set in and I could tell he was having a hard time. If you’ve never had shin splints they feel like someone smacking your legs with a metal rod each time you take a step. Despite the pain we pushed on knowing anything less than a 20 mile day would put us behind. Fall might be the fear but that night it felt more like winter. My shelter was soaked and I lay in fear of touching the walls and getting my dry bag wet. Every piece of clothing I had was on that night and I still tossed and turned from the occasional cold spot.
Days 179 to 180
Mile 2294 | 25 Hiked | Goat Rock Wilderness
The morning was icy cold but at least the rain had stopped and the sun was shining. I slowly made breakfast and used my stove to thaw my shoe laces. We placed our wet gear in the sun and placed rocks on everything to prevent it from blowing away. Our camp was at a beautiful lakeside location with Ranier looming in the background. The kind of spot that’s a shame to only camp at for one night. We knew today would be a good one when we got to the sign reading Goat Rock Wilderness. The Goat Rocks and more specifically the Knife’s Edge had been spoken of since Oregon. Heavy snow here would make the trek extremely dangerous but lucky for us the past few days had only brought freezing rain…
The trail only went up from camp and once we crossed Cispus pass the terrain drastically changed. A massive valley opened up before us with towering craggy peaks on all sides. For the first time I understood why some hikers choose Washington over the Sierra as their favorite section of trail. Red bushes lit the sides of the mountains ablaze before fading into rocky fields. Behind us Mt Rainier was still visible in the sun. In front of us the trail was disappearing into the clouds.
We crossed massive snow fields and switchbacked along the boulder fields as the clouds slowly overtook us. Our view was gone and the trail disappeared into the white ahead. A sign at the Knife’s Edge warning of the dangerous trail greeted us before stepping into the white abyss.
For a while the trail followed the side of Old Snowy Mountain before veering onto the Knife’s Edge proper. Here the trail was thin with steep drop offs on both sides. An epic traverse that even a seasoned alpinist could appreciate. The quick moving clouds added to the excitement as we followed the zig zagging trail up and down the sharp crumbling peaks.
Eventually the trail dropped back down and entered another massive valley. Here you could look up and see the Knife’s Edge and where we had been only an hour prior. As we descended further into the forest and watched the sun go down demented screams from the valley sounded off. Alarmed by these howling screeches we made jokes about what the fuck could be making them. Dying deer? Dying elk? We decided it must be elk even though imagining a massive elk bellowing out such a high pitched scream seemed ridiculous. Later we would learn these were indeed the haunting mating calls of elk. Knowing that White Pass was close we pushed on into the dark before finding a place to camp.
A short hike the next morning led us to the road at White Pass where a ski hill was located. A small convenience store housed the post office where we picked up our first resupply box. Alongside my food was a brand new pair of rain pants. So far I had made do without them but I knew I would be grateful for them soon enough. The small store had a nice area for us to relax and charge our devices and we spent most of the day eating microwave burritos and staring at our phones. In the evening we left the comforts of the convenience store and found a camp site just down the road. We packed out beers and got a fire going to cap off our first nero* in Washington.
*Short for “nearly zero,” or a partial day off during a long-distance hike when very few miles are walked.
Days 181 to 185
Mile 2393 | 99 Hiked | White Pass
It’s amazing how enjoyable hiking is when the weather is warm and the sun is shining. Leaving White Pass on a clear day was exactly what we needed. Mt Rainier came into view near the end of the day and I couldn’t help but stop and wait for the sun to set behind it before heading to camp. I spent my early teenage years in Seattle and always loved seeing the view of Rainier behind the city. In scouts we dug our own snow caves and slept at base of the mountain. One day I would have to stand on its summit.
Passing through Rainier National Park brought us past a lot of day hikers. Some even recognized us for what we were, 2 guys trying to walk from Mexico to Canada and cheered us on. A few miles from the road we came to a pristine lake with a beat down grassy beach. The sun was still shining and we laid out enjoying the rare chance to relax.
The elk calls continued to lull us to sleep each night. Sometimes they sounded so close I wondered if a whole herd was just outside the tent. For such massive beasts making loud noises I only spotted them once. Just as the light was fading I made out a herd galloping in and out of the trees. A short glimpse but a magical one.
Fall colors were starting to light up the trees and a myriad of fungus sprouted from the ground. The fungi more than anything else on this stretch captured my attention. The variety and their perfect condition had me stopping to bend down and take photos every hundred feet. I passed a group of day hikers collecting the edible mushrooms by the basketful. If I had any knowledge of what was safe to eat I could stop carrying my food and live off the land the rest of the hike.
Coming into Snoqualmie was a bit of a homecoming for me. I learned to snowboard here as a teenager. Memories of night riding with friends and doing ridiculous things like jumping from the ski lifts came flooding back as I walked down the slope. The small road side ski resort had changed some over the years but for the most part it was still the same. We found a nice brewery to get dinner and beers as we thought about our next moves. We were determined to not take zeros if possible but a pair of shoes that had yet to arrive in the post made the decision for us. The trail runners I was wearing had been with me for the last 1000 miles and were in shambles. Our old friend Mountain Ninja showed up later that evening and we decided to share a room in the old ski lodge hotel. It has been a full week without rain but that night as we enjoyed a soak in the hot tub the skies opened back up.
Days 187 to 190
Mile 2462 | 69 Hiked | Snoqualmie Pass
I stared out the window of our hotel room not happy about leaving in the rain but knowing we had no choice. At the trailhead a sign read Very Difficult the way you might rate a ski run. Immediately we gained massive elevation and were transported into the clouds. Every so often a break in the grey revealed amazing views on all sides. Bright orange and red foliage contrasted against stark white backgrounds illuminating what otherwise would be a colorless day.
When we awoke the next morning the weather was still moody but the visibility had improved. Massive snowy peaks, cascading waterfalls and alpine lakes set ablaze with fall colors in every direction. Every now and then the sun would break through and create rainbows through the mist. The trail took us along the high ridges and then switchbacked down into the valleys where overgrown bushes soaked us when the rain did not. I was happy to have my newly acquired rain pants.
By the afternoon the bad weather had set in for good and as we rose in elevation the steady rain turned into a steady hail. The wind whipped through the trees and before we knew it we were walking through a full blown storm. Snowy hail I could deal with and I even enjoyed the excitement of it but as we descended back into the valley it turned into rain. A few miles of steady downpour and anywhere that wasn’t totally waterproof was soaked. My hands felt numb by the time we pulled into camp and we debated the merits of stopping or going further. The ground here was a puddle and it wasn’t the most appealing spot but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could endure being exposed to the elements. By the time I got into my tent I was miserable. Everything was soaked, even my sleeping bag was wet but dry enough to keep me warm. I skipped dinner and went straight to sleep praying to wake to sun.
Packing up the next morning I lost it. My hands were so cold it felt like pins and needles trying to put my tent away. My rage got the better of me and I bent my trekking pole smacking a defenseless pine tree. Alex, clearly alarmed by my behavior, shook his head and asked if I was ok. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself in this demoralized moment, losing it over what I couldn’t control. The sun always seems to come out on trail when you’re reaching a breaking point and this morning was no different. We found a bright sunny rock a quarter mile down trail and placed our gear out to dry.
The rest of the day remained somewhat dry and the trail continued to be “Extremely Difficult” Up and down we went. Crossing rivers in the valleys and snowy passes in the mountains. The scenery was spectacular though and the light dusting of snow made things all the more lovely. Camp that night was a tight fit due to the site being littered with downed trees. Staking my tent out was a puzzle but eventually I managed to squeeze between a down tree and boulder. I awoke in the night to an incredible explosion. Holy shit a bomb must have gone off, I thought and quickly realized it had been the sound of a nearby tree falling. I called out to Alex who had woken as well and we exchanged a few morbid jokes before drifting back to sleep. The one good thing about walking till exhaustion every day is being able to fall back to sleep despite being scared out of your mind.
A day of sunshine made the tough hiking a little easier and gave the alpine lakes a deep blue glow. The valleys here were as big as ever covered in early fall snow. We pushed hard and made it to the top of a ski resort just as a new storm was setting in. It was dark and I was hoping to spot Alex’s tent set up near the top. He was nowhere to be found but a light from a ski lift tower caught my eye. Curious I walked over to it and realized Alex must be holed up inside. I climbed the stairs to the door and entered the tiny room to find Alex enjoying the small heater and shelter. Instead of going back out into the elements we decided to ignore the no trespassing sign and sleep in the cramped room.
As we packed up in the morning Alex’s air mattress exploded. I don’t know if it was a loose nail in the building or just a fluke but without a mattress the rest of the trail would be absolute misery. Thankfully the town of Leavenworth was a short hitch from the road at the base of the ski hill. We had not planned to stop there but now with a solid excuse we headed into town. Leavenworth was a German themed mountain town complete with multiple beer halls. We spent the rest of the day checking out the gear shops and having German beers. Two liters of beer almost did us in but we pulled ourselves away from town and got back to the trail. Our hitch dropped us off and we got out into a steady downpour of rain. We walked a few miles as the rain turned to snow and made camp for the night.
Days 192 to 197
Mile 2489 | 103 Hiked
I had toyed with filming my hike since day 1 but the trouble involved with doing it properly kept me from pulling the trigger. Maybe I was inspired by the sun being out and a blanket of fresh snow covering the trail but for whatever reason on day 192 I decided to finally film. It ended up being a really cool day for it. In the morning the snow sparkled in the sunlight and slowly melted away. Great plumes of condensation rose from the ground like geysers in the distance.
We stopped for lunch in a sunny field and laid out our damp gear to dry. The tranquil moment was suddenly disturbed by a low flying helicopter appearing overhead. It circled back and came in even lower and then to our amazement it landed in the valley just a few hundred feet in front of us. A man outfitted in what looked like search in rescue gear ran up, apologized for the disturbance and pulled a photo from his pocket. It was a photo of a hiker we knew who had apparently not arrived where she was supposed to be and a search and rescue was now underway for her. Sadly for the rescue team we had not seen her since Oregon. They thanked us and took off. We eventually found out that she had been fine and was just running behind schedule.
The sunny day was short lived as moody clouds moved in. This made for an interesting change to the film but I was still annoyed. We pulled into camp in the dark after night hiking for a few miles and my experiment with film came to an end.
As we hiked through more massive valleys covered in bright red foliage I wondered if today would have been a better one for filming. The snow capped peaks that surround the grassy valleys were truly serene and the clouds moving in and out made it extra dramatic. Alex, disappearing into the clouds far ahead of me, looked incredibly small amidst the huge landscape.
With each pass we crossed came another valley bigger than the last. In the winter these must make powdery bowls perfect for backcountry skiing. The land was wide open and I’m sure on a clear day you can see for miles. The last valley of the day brought us back down into the old forests. Even more so than before green moss covered every inch of the forest floor and fairy tale toadstools sprouted from dead logs decaying back into the earth.
When it wasn’t raining, constant bushwhacking through soaked plants kept us from ever being dry. The rivers were raging through the valleys and the wooden bridges that crossed them were lifesavers even when they were somewhat collapsed. All day we experienced a steady downpour. White out conditions obscured what would otherwise be mind blowing vistas. I could tell from breaks in the clouds that we were passing through astonishing alpine regions but didn’t give a damn due to the rain. I only cared about staying as dry as possible in my rain jacket bubble and pushing ahead.
Audio books and podcasts really kept me sane through this wet stretch of trail. The worst part of nonstop rain is never being able to stop for a proper break. If you rest for too long you get cold and without good tree cover why bother. Today must have broken Alex. I found him inside his tent fully set up off the side of the trail well before mile 20. I stopped by his tent and asked him if he was ok. He admitted he had been too cold and wet to continue and decided to call it an early day. Fair enough.
The rain continued to plague us the next day as we battled up a neverending mountain pass. At the top the sun came out and the rain stopped. In front us lay another beautiful valley with snowy mountain peaks on all sides. Streams from the snow melt trickled down the valley sides and I felt the urge to stop and take it all in. Instead I pushed ahead knowing the time for relaxation had ended weeks ago. The big mile days didn’t allow for long breaks but they did make for drastic changes in scenery. One hour I would be high in the alpine surrounded by snowy peaks and the next in old forests where the trees rivaled redwoods in size. The days were growing shorter meaning every evening we pushed well into night. I never got used to walking in the dark and my irrational fear always helped fuel the last miles before camp.
Cloudy Pass lived up to its name but was clear enough to show off its massive boulder fields and craggy peaks. We knew from trail reports that a large section of trail here was closed due to fires but since it had been raining for what seemed like forever we figured we would take our chances. Amazingly enough we came across a few smouldering trees with fire still roaring in their hollowed out trunks. Some sections of the trail had completely disappeared here due to the erosion caused by the fires. We sank deep into the ashy mud and had a hell of a time getting back onto the trail. For a solid mile we must have climbed over a fallen tree every 5 feet. After a confusing river crossing the trail returned to normal before leading us to the famed town of Stehekin.
A cute red bus that runs from town to the trail picked us up and drove us into Stehekin. We picked up our last boxes of food at the post office and had lunch at one of the only restaurants in the small village. Stehekin was located on the edge of a beautiful lake surrounded by Cascade peaks on all sides. A public shower and washing machine made it the perfect place to refresh before our final push to the border. The best news of all came from a local who told us the weather forecasted was a week of sunshine. Thank you trail gods.
Days 198 to 201
Mile 2635 to 2650 | 62 Hiked | Stehekin
A warm and pleasant day through beautiful fall colored forest brought us deeper into the Northern Cascades. The hiking was not easy but the excitement of being days from the border fueled each step. A miniature of the Northern Terminus monument sat on the side of the trail, it had been left for hikers earlier in the month who were stopped short due to fire closures. Our unorthodox pace had turned out to be perfect though and left the trail wide open to the boarder. Crossing the last road at Rainy Pass really put the end into perspective. From here the only exit point was Canada.
Not since the Sierra had mountain peaks been so dramatic. Each pass, a new range would present itself-grander than the last. The trail skirted around the peaks covered in snow and ice. I took my time knowing that a slip here could be fatal. Golden larches covered valleys wrapping the mountains in gold. The needles from these bright yellow pines covered the trail at lower elevations creating a golden carpet leading to the end of our journey.
Each last night was colder than the one before and my bedtime routine consisted of putting on every layer of clothing I had. Fall was turning to winter and we were not prepared to be here for much longer. We truly pushed it as far as we safely could. Luck was on our side though and we had been blessed with the perfect window to finish.
On the second to last day I stopped for lunch in a sunny meadow. I laid out in the grass, cooking my ramen sipping my afternoon coffee and took it all in. I wanted nothing more than to be done with the trail but at the same time I knew I would miss moments like this. What cares did I have when the weather was this nice and the scenery so divine? Real life was waiting for me and I wasn’t sure if I was ready.
The last day (Oct 15th) went out with a bang crossing more snowy passes and walking through mighty valleys. When the trail brought us down into the forest we knew this was the end. The border lay just a mile ahead. I played music from my phone and we sang along walking at a feverish pace. Finally, we arrived at the famous clearing where the Northern Terminus Monument stands. The feeling was unreal and hard to put into perspective. We popped our champagne, cracked a few beers, took photos, yelled out for joy and congratulated ourselves for doing what we had set out to accomplish 2650 Miles, 3 States, and 201 Days prior.
A last 4.5 mile hike brought us to Manning Park where my girlfriend Kat had been waiting to pick us up. She was a sight for sore eyes and marked the true end to what had been such a long journey.
The dream of walking across the United States was ingrained into my mind from a young age. A fantasy I would daydream about when bored at work. Endless hours researching and planning a trip that I might never undertake. Then slowly as I waded back into the world of long-distance hiking and my best friend started joining me, it came together. For a year my anxiety built. Injuries that felt like they would derail my goal occurred, my dad decided to join, I entered a relationship too strong to break, and my career was at its highest point. Starting the trip washed away a lot of the anxiety and let me focus on the hike but the fear of not finishing always loomed over me. The opportunity to take this much time off might never come again and to break the trip into sections would be heartbreaking. The beauty of California, Oregon and Washington is easy to get lost in but the days where everything hurts and the weather sucks are when the fear of failure creeps back in. But now having finished my fears, doubts and anxiety have lifted and a calm pride has replaced them.
The PCT is too long of a journey to think of as one single event making the finish feel more like a transition than a completion. I think back on the places I walked through and mostly feel the urge to return. Future trips to the backcountry of the Sierra, the peaks of Oregon, and the lush forests of Washington fill my dreams now and I cannot wait to go back.
Thank you to Dad, Mom, Alex, Kat, Smalls, Wendy and every Thru-Hiker I had the pleasure of hiking with on the trail. You were all a huge inspiration. Thank you to all the good folks who followed me on instagram and read the FreeFreaks blog, your constant messages of encouragement, praise and questions were a massive motivation and a much needed creative outlet.
FREE FREAKS FOREVER
