A relationship with nature is, surprisingly, not altogether different from any other relationship with a loved one or a friend. Motivated by the conditions on a day like yesterday, it's the easiest thing in the world to feel frustrated, angry. But weather is simply an inextricable part of the wilderness, and how can you hate a thing you love for being itself?
Pacific Crest Trail 2016
Daily dispatches and photos from the Pacific Crest Trail, a 2654-mile footpath running from Mexico to Canada through California, Oregon, and Washington.
Happy Birthday, Have Some Hail
A cold night made for great sleeping, and just after the morning no longer required a headlamp, we were off and beginning our fifth month on the trail. A mile or so down the trail, we entered the Mt. Adams Wilderness. Knowing that this massive volcano of over 12,000 feet was looming nearby, even though we'd had no view of it since the weather had turned for the worse two days ago…
Goat Rocks
It was still pitch black a few minutes after 5am when I unzipped and reached through the open door of the tent to light my stove for coffee. Against a black backdrop, the flame of the stove cast a soft blue light under and through various holes of the windscreen around it. It looked like a jack-o-lantern fitted with a candle burning blue and it was an oddly calming way to begin the morning.
Washington. Another Word for Wet
The clouds that had drifted back and forth across the Knife's Edge yesterday decided to settle in for a longer stay last night and the familiar patter of raindrops was again my lullaby. I woke up hoping that the weather system had blown through to reveal the sun again but it was pretty clear that wish wouldn't be coming true anytime soon. Only rain and a light wind filled the air.
Quiet Reflection
Tearing myself away from a cozy bed was made only slightly easier by the fact that although the clouds still hung in the sky like unwanted guests it at least was not raining. As this grand adventure nears its home stretch, I've noticed that comfortable town stays like last night bring my mind closer to the home that awaits me when this incredible hike comes to a close.
Irrational Fear
Lions. Tigers. Bears. Oh my. Like Dorothy setting off alone on the yellow brick road, I sometimes wonder whether people to whom thru-hiking is a completely foreign undertaking have an image that this journey is one rife with peril at every turn.
Here Comes the Sun
The winds that had whipped up and propelled the clouds that raced by us all afternoon yesterday were gone, their fever pitch signaling the death rattle of the ugly weather that has followed us ever since entering Washington. In their wake was an eerie calm and a starry, though bitterly cold night. At long last, the sun that has been conspicuous in its absence this past week and a half had returned.
Country Roads, Take Me Home
From a distance, the mountains are beginning to show the early signs of autumn. Mixed amid the pervasive evergreens, the leaves of the huckleberry bushes are now mostly bright red with the occasional tinge of yellow, giving the forest a prototypical pop of fall color. Not only that, but each time we think we've seen the last of the berries, we're proven wrong yet again.
54 Miles East of Seattle
All morning it was thoughts of a bed and our first day off in over 600 miles that propelled us on. The return of the sun a day before had morphed into cloud cover this morning and by the time we had our first view of the I-90 interstate, the rain had begun to fall yet again. With only a handful of miles remaining to get to Snoqualmie Pass, it hardly mattered.
Final Alternate
Leaving the hotel at Snoqualmie Pass, the sky was blue in every direction and the night's cold had coated low-lying pockets of vegetation with a fine frost. We had decided to take one last alternate, and like a couple of the others we've taken, we'd again follow the course of what was once the original PCT, this time detouring towards Goldmyer Hot Springs.
Forward Progress
The old PCT we'd been following since Snoqualmie Pass yesterday came to an end only 6.5 miles into the morning, but not before we'd been treated to seeing the first rays of sun warm the very tips of the summits far above us. The price of this beautifully clear morning was the clear and cold starry sky of the preceding night…
Riding the Roller Coaster
If we weren't climbing, we were descending. That sounds obvious enough, but there are many days on the PCT where at least a few miles are reasonably level with little to no elevation gain or loss. Today was not one of them. With nearly 20 miles to make to pick up the next resupply before 5pm, it was another early start…
Crimson and Gold
When I think back on the 12 or 13 hours between the start and end of hiking each day, it's remarkable how many different phases it can take on. Like a play in multiple acts, there are often high points and low points, internal conflicts and resolutions. Today began with tired legs and a tired mind as I hauled myself up and over the first long climb of the day…
The Rain Wins Again
Well, that sucked. The fact that I never even turned my phone on, let alone used it to take a single picture, tells the story of the day about as well as I can. From the moment I began hiking to the moment I stopped, the rain was unrelenting and the path that it left in its wake was one that looked more like a water slide than a hiking trail.
Thank You Sunshine
It was an exhausting night trying to keep things as dry as possible, and sleep came only in short spurts. The sweetest sound of the morning wasn't even a sound at all but rather the absence of one: the absence of rain falling on the tent. It was a big weather break if it would only hold out long enough to climb up and find a spot with some sun if there was any to be found.
Mental Endurance
The moon was bright and clear in its corner of the sky as it rose above the shoulder of the mountain we camped high upon last night, but it didn't last--it too was soon swallowed by the clouds that cast a light but cold rain down on my tent overnight. When I woke this morning, little had changed and it was off again in full rain gear once more, hoping for the best.
Stehekin
The snow of yesterday evening and the cold that came with it lingered all through the night, with an occasional new dusting adding to the blanket of white that now clung to everything. By the small hours of the morning, however, the sky was filled with nothing but stars, setting the stage for a beautiful sunrise.
Final Resupply
With only a short nearo planned out of town this afternoon, there was plenty of time to enjoy Stehekin and its beauty. Sitting by the water's edge and staring into the valley that leads back to the trail and the jagged peaks of the North Cascades, I thought back to the memory of my Dad and I in Glacier National Park almost 20 years ago…
The American Alps
The clear skies that we'd fallen asleep to were the same ones we woke to, but somewhere in between we had yet another dose of overnight rain. Fortunately, it was the last we would see of the wet stuff for the rest of the day. Under the newfound sun, steam was quietly rising off of the damp understory like smoke from a smoldering fire…
Liquid Sunshine
Well, it started out promising anyway. Bright stars and the Milky Way had illuminated the night sky as I cinched up the sleeping bag around me last night, and although a layer of clouds had moved into the valley below us by morning, the red flare of the rising sun seemed to be a harbinger of another nice day in the North Cascades.
Confessions of a Chacoholic
I love Chacos. True story: I own 8 pairs of them. Two pairs hiked the Appalachian Trail, two have hiked the John Muir Trail and the Wonderland Trail twice, and three have now hiked the Pacific Crest Trail. Combined they've been my companions for well north of 5,000 trail miles. The 8th pair? I got married to my best friend in those.
O Canada
It began like any other day: morning coffee from the warmth of my sleeping bag followed by deflating and rolling up my sleeping pad, and stuffing my few belongings one by one into my pack before emerging from my tent to take it down once more. The only difference was the air of finality that surrounded each of the mundane daily tasks.