Wook At Us Now

He stood before me accomplished, beastly, and with an odor only someone like me would recognize. My friend Wookie and I started our hike along with a friend of his from earlier on trail named Poppie. A nutritionist from Washington, she had gotten off in southern California due to injury but was itching for at least a weekend trip back on the PCT. She met us at the trailhead, and we ascended as usual. We ran into snowfields halfway through our beautiful July day, and then I realized one of the snow cups on my poles had fallen off. I feared that it would make the next couple of days more difficult with my pole sinking deep into snow, but Poppie saved the day by giving me the cap to her Gatorade. A crude fix, but it would do the job. We made camp on the first patch of ground we saw and each prepared our dinner of Ramen, solidifying Poppie as a thru hiker at heart.

We trekked around the breathtaking Three Sisters range the next day, hiking on snow but eventually giving way to lava flows and a sparkling obsidian landscape. The reflective qualities of that day gave me a pretty bad sunburn on my face, despite my wearing a hat. Wookie and Poppie remarked during sunset that it was the same shade of red as I was. Very funny guys. We hiked out to a road the next morning on 4th of July and drove to good old Bend to watch the puppy (and llama) parade, cook bratwurst over a fire, and gawk at fireworks. She needed to head back to Washington, so Wookie and I got a hitch back to the trail by a group of older women. I was amused when Wookie and one of the women talking about how much they liked the mobile game Pokemon Go. This day of hiking barely had any snow and was dry of water sources, a rarity for both of us. However, the next day hit us with extremely steep snowfields that we needed to precariously kick steps in to get across. It was nerve-wracking looking down and knowing that one slip would mean death for either of us. The mental concentration and force on our ankles from kicking into snow left us totally beat after 15 miles.

The next day led us around Mt Jefferson, which miraculously far less snow and blowdowns compared to the rest of Oregon. The answer became clear when we saw a trail crew during lunch, and we thanked them profusely for their service. That evening, we found an incredible campsite near an alpine meadow overlooking the gigantic peak. According to our maps, the next couple miles of trail switchbacks up a snowy slope bringing more sidehilling, so we started our day reliving the AT by going straight up instead. Our microspikes and the hard icy crust left by the chilly night made the ascent easy, and we got spectacular views all the way to Mt Rainier from the top. Once we descended the other side, we did a small resupply from the tiny camp store at a resort. The next day and a half kept us at lower elevation with no snow, allowing us to catch up on miles.

Right before ascending to treeline on Mt Hood, we needed to resupply in the small, historic town of Government Camp. All of the expensive cars from Portland passing (and sometimes clearly avoiding) us made for a frustrating hitch, but we eventually got picked up by a former PCT thru hiker with a gorgeous husky. He was excited to meet his first real northbounders, telling us over lunch of a guy he had met a couple of days earlier named Peer Pressure who claimed to be thru hiking. The far fetched story of him completing the high sierras in March and his request to borrow money only by online transfer gave him uneasy thoughts. Wookie and I apologized on behalf of the class of 2017 for the bad egg and hoped that we wouldn't run into him. After resupplying, he offered to slack pack us up to Timberline Lodge, where we would camp near and roast bratwurst (Wookie and I share a favorite food, can you tell?). When we got to the top, we checked out the historic lodge where the opening scene of The Shining was filmed and watched a documentary they were showing about volcanic eruptions. Pretty cryptic taking into account that the very volcano we were on the side of is considered active.

We said our goodbyes the next morning and began to hike around Oregon's highest peak. We descended to a roaring creek, where I began to feel my way across using my poles. The current was so strong, however, that it swiped a pole right out of my hand and carried it downstream faster than I could chase after it. I was pretty angry for a while, but then I came across a strong stick among the brittle conifer branches that would make a good replacement. The rest of the day was scenic, but I was excited for the next day where we could take an alternate route where part of the trail was tunneled behind a waterfall. It is also a slightly shorter route to get to the last town of Oregon, which is Cascade Locks. Our dreams were crushed, though, when a southbounder told us that the alternate route was closed. I guess you can't win them all. I wasn't too surprised however, since I realized hiking the PCT is like trying to win against the dealer at a casino: be prepared to lose, but keep telling yourself that it's still fun.

Coming into Cascade locks, we resupplied at a Walmart, which was a shock to both of us. We then went to library and applied for permission to enter Canada from the PCT to avoid having to hike back 30 miles to the nearest road in the US. We stayed a night with a trail angel named Shrek with an appropriately named house called "Shrek's Swamp". Another couple was staying there, and we learned that the guy had directed the first two seasons of the discovery channel show Naked and Afraid. I assumed that he knew what he was doing out here, or else discovery Channel will have lied to me. We all went to a brewery where people could buy a thru hiker a pint by putting a message on a coaster and when a thru hiker walks in, he can reimburse it and read the message. It was awesome being in a real trail town for the first time in a while.

The next morning, we went where Cheryl Strayed had never gone before by crossing the Bridge of the Gods into Washington. It was great to have one state finished, but we realized that Washington would be significantly harder with its constant ups and downs as well as the worst mosquitos we've seen on the trip thus far. I thought there was no way they could get any worse than halfway through Oregon, but the fact that I needed to eat and drink through my head net proved me wrong. A couple of days after entering Washington, we got into the tiny town of Trout Lake and found out they sold bunks behind the general store for a great price. We took advantage of that to recharge for mosquito hell, but the next day brought us around the windy and relatively bug-free Mt Adams, the first amazing volcano of the state. The slopes of the mountain were blazing with wildflowers, and the alpine lakes reflected Mt adams as well as Mt Rainier. The next day, we talked about when we wanted to get to Canada, and Wookie remarked that he wanted to take his time. Because I wanted time to finish up California before even more snow came, I decided to forge ahead with bigger miles. With more northbounders in the log books however, it shouldn't be hard for me to find another group of smelly chums.