Sun. July 31       Miles today: 25.1             Total so far: 1,451.8         Begin Washington Section L

We had a very warm, cozy campsite last night, and it was even warmer this morning!  I didn’t need my jacket, even at 5:00 am.  Hot day ahead??  It wasn’t far to a creek where we got water for breakfast and filled our platypuses for the 1,900 foot climb ahead, up to Cutthroat Pass. We had great views as we climbed; I stopped several times for a quick picture.  I am getting really fast at “whip out the camera, aim it, press shutter, turn it off, and get it back into my fanny pack.”

A number of people were camped in the prety alpine area just below the top, only they were just getting up!  At the summit, I was a bit disappointed with the “new view” of the “other side”.  The mountains were very brown and barren, though certainly rugged!  But as we continued, we did cross a very pretty alpine area with rockgarden type flowers.  Me, the gardener, I HAD to stop for a second and admire it.  Then we met a guy out running with his dog.  The poor dog was having a hard time–I’ve never seen a dog with its tongue hanging out so far!

Now we wre headed down to Granite Pass, and the trail got a bit scary, with some big dropoffs (only on one side, hurray–no rerun of Goat Rocks!)  All along the way were litle survey stakes with numbes on them–they’re part of an “upgrade the trail” project.  Granite Pass turned out to be quite pretty, and then it was time for many miles of traversing along steep mountainsides that plunged down into the Swamp Creek Valley.  Partway along, the hillside flattened out and there were a number of little creeks, green meadows, and campsites.  We reached Methow Pass and began the long descent into the Methow River Valley, admiring the dramatic cliffs.  At Golden Creek, we stopped for a nice hot dinner.  I had been worried a bit that today would be another 90 plus degree scorcher; not to worry, it turned out to be warm, but not outrageous. 

Now the PCT took us into the “avalanche territory” of the Methow Valley. You can see the avalanche chutes there very clearly–they look like strips of green meadow that start way up high on a mountain, and run straight down into the valley.  When there’s snow, those are the areas to avoid, and the guidebook earnestly advises early season hikers NOT to linger in one of them.  But in July, we could hike across those “chutes”, and look up and see not a roaring avalanche, but a very lovely meadow with lots of green grass and wildflowers. 

We finally reached Brush Creek, and the beginning of a 2,600 foot climb in the hottest part of the afternoon.  Sigh!  This is becoming a tradition for us, doing big climbs at the worst time of day.  But “gotta make miles” keeps us mushing on.  To add to the fun, the PCT at this point was very rocky and overgrown.  We did glimpse a couple of beaver ponds through the trees, which was interesting (no luck spotting beavers, though), and we also met a couple who were llamapacking.  The llamas were quite dignified, and they were carrying ALL the gear.  Nice!  (But slow–we zipped right past them).

Finally we reached Glacier Pass, had a rest, and pushed on.  There were very fine mountain views, even though technically, we still hadn’t reached the TOP of the climb.  Both the hillside (very wildflowered, by the way) and the PCT grew steeper.  We ended up stopping for supper a little below the summit.  Now we were really high–about 7,000 feet (that’s high, for Washington!) and went on a couple more miles before making camp near Tatie Peak, on a very windy saddle, in a “forest” of larch trees.  The larches are very interesting to look at–I have never seen any before.  The ground was so rocky that it was hard to stake the tarp.  Tomorrow we face over 20 miles of no for-sure water.  We were joking a little about how blase we have gotten about “big” multi-thousand foot climbs here in Washington State.  “No big deal, just another 2,000 foot climb” instead of “Yikes, we have a 2,000 foot climb–it will be tough!” as we used to do in say, southern California.  My only regret today is that I sort of wish we’d hit Stehekin a couple of days ago, so we could have gone to church with the folks there.  Oh well.  We continue to see God at work every day on this trail, and we continue to be in awe of His creation, even in its messed-up current state.