Last night the rain died down and turned into “tree drip”, but it was a very wet world this morning.  I was so tired from the big day yesterday that I “overslept” till 5:30 am, which meant we had to eat a very hurried breakfast and pack up as fast as we could.  When I reached over to get Bill’s food bag, which contained the breakfast granola, there was a mouse in it!  The mouse whisked away and I looked for damage–only a small hole chewed in the food bag, but no damage to the food, as far as I could tell.

Bill was still very determined to catch the bus to Stehekin, but I had my doubts.  We had 9.3 miles to go, and less than 3 hours to do it in.  Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, as long as we kept up a good pace,  but the trail had been so rough and overgrown that it made for  slow going, and I remembered from 2005 that there were some tricky parts up ahead, with lots of rocks, roots, creek crossings, etc.   As we started out, Bill kept urging me to go faster ( a strange situation, because for the last several days, it’s been me out in front, and slowing down for him) but I hesitated because lately every time I hike fast, I end up falling.   So I kept up a good pace, but not fast enough for Bill!   He  finally gave up on me and said, “See you at the Ranch–I’m going to Stehekin!”   He was soon out of sight.

What a relief it was to NOT have to be on a tear along the trail!  I deliberately slowed down and began to relax and enjoy myself.   And there was plenty to enjoy! Mushrooms of all sorts almost “lit up” the ground in the forest.  Every day there have been more of them, and this morning, the display was awesome!  I saw great big huge mushrooms and tiny, fragile little ones.  The PCT alternates between forest and open areas as it travels down the South Fork Agnes Creek canyon.  In the forests, the trail was very nice, and the mushrooms were beautiful, but the open areas were another story!  To get through one of those, I was pushing my way through wet bushes.  Sigh. 

At one of the creek crossings,  I was amazed to find Bill waiting for me on the other side.  He had crossed on a log that was rather steep and slippery, and was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to manage it without help.  Actually, crossing on a steep slippery log was not something I would try even with help!  I just forded the creek–but I was very touched that Bill had stopped there.  And I was worried that this would mean he’d never make it to the bus on time.  He took off again, and I followed him.

As you get farther down toward Stehekin, things do start to dry out.  The trail sort of rollercoasters its way, with more down than up, and an occasional sunbeam managed to break through the clouds.  That was encouraging!  And the trail itself became quite nice and smooth, so I decided to start hiking faster.  Not a good idea!  Again, I didn’t see a little loop of root lurking on the edge of the trail–my toe caught in it, and I was instantly flying, right off the trail and down the hill.   And again, due to my pack and the grace and mercy of God, I landed on my back on some nice soft plants, unhurt.  I just lay there a minute to make sure I was all right, and thanked God for His protection.  After a bit of a struggle to get back on my feet, I climbed back up to the trail, and said to myself, “That does it!  I am NOT going to try to hike fast!  I guess I am too worn down to do it safely anymore.”  And it was true.  I felt very tired, and even my brain felt exhausted.  It’s been a long way since Mexico!

So after that I just walked along quickly, but without “pushing for speed” and finally reached the spectacular Agnes Creek gorge and the amazing bridges that take the PCT over the roaring river (not sure why they call it a “creek”!).   Bill was waiting by the road.  He had not been able to make it to the bus in time, so we strolled over to the bus stop and sat down to eat some Snickers and nuts and other odds ‘n ends from our packs before starting down the road to Stehekin Valley Ranch.   Up ahead were thick gray clouds, lying low.  Bill commented that it must be fog from the lake, but the closer we got, the more we realized “That’s not fog–it’s SMOKE!”

And smoke it was–the USFS people were doing a controlled burn in the forests along the road.   We walked right through the whole thing.  There was very little actual flame–mostly it was a lot of smoldering.  The Forest Service people had looooong canvas hoses snaking down to the river, where pumps kept the firefighters supplied with water.   And they were just strolling casually around spraying a bit of water here and there–no rush, no fuss.  ( They had closed one trail, however.)   I loved watching them with their hoses and special tools,  and kept stopping to look and take pictures.  I had never seen such a sight before!  Poor Bill finally said, “Enough is enough!  Let’s go–we need to get to town!”

Just beyond the blackened, smoky forest lay the bright green pastures of Stehekin Valley Ranch.   We lucked out and got the last available cabin for tonight, and the always-wonderful staff said it didn’t matter that it was still well before lunchtime–we were welcome to start eating anytime!   So we tucked in to chili,  huge sandwiches and cookies, all washed down with cowboy coffee.  We unpacked our gear and spread it on chairs to dry, and I got the laundry ready for a trip to town.  Normally I would have just done it at the Ranch, but the weather looked like rain, and at the Ranch, there is no clothes dryer–just a lot of clotheslines.  (Not to mention the air was very smoky, and we would have ended up with “smoked clothes”). 

On the way to town, of course we stopped at the Bakery and I got one of their huge cinnamon rolls, which Bill and I shared.  There were a couple of other thruhikers on the bus, too, and we had fun talking about our adventures.   Once in town, I did the usual town chores of laundry and shopping and picking up our food box.  The shopping part was disappointing–there wasn’t much I could use at the store, not even peanut butter!   I decided to get some of what we needed from the Ranch when we got back.   And at the Post Office, it was fun to talk to the very friendly postmistress.  But while I was there, I also saw something that worried me.  There was a whole pile of PCT hiker boxes waiting to be picked up, and the top one was for Happy Camper and Trash Bucket.   We thought they were ahead of us.   Had we somehow beat them to town?   That seemed very unlikely.   I stopped to pray for them, concerned that something might have happened.  (We found out later that they were just on a tear to finish.  I guess they decided they didn’t need all the stuff they’d mailed to themselves).  I also went through the hiker box and found a bunch of bandaids (hooray–Bill’s leg needed them!) and a bit of useable food.  The PO lady said that her only problem with the hiker box is that the Stehekin kids know about it, and after school some of them come in and go through the box looking for goodies–till she spots them and chases them out!

Once I got the laundry done, we still had 2 hours till the next bus, so we went to the little park by Lake Chelan and I spent the time mending Bill’s badly torn pants, now that they were clean and not still all bloody!  Bill simply lay down on the grass and took a nap.   There was not a breath of wind, and the lake was like a pond–very lovely with the mountains all around.  It was fun to watch the various watercraft and the seaplanes.   Overhead, the sky was very cloudy, but the air temperature was pleasant.   The little store had posted a printout of the weather report for the next several days, and it was not good.  “Rain, rain, rain” was basically what it said.    I thought to myself, “Boy, we are really going to need ‘rain grace’ and patience to finish this hike!”  I am still feeling very tired, and wished I could join Bill in napping on the grass.

Back at the Ranch, we totally pigged out at their fantastic dinner spread.  There was BBQ salmon and lots of side dishes, plus SIX different kinds of pie!  Wow!  We waddled back to our cabin, took showers and I doctored Bill’s gashed leg.  The swelling has completely gone away, and I don’t think it will bleed anymore.  Last night it did, and got blood all over Bill’s silk longjohns that he sleeps in on cold nights.   I bandaged him up, and then we went to bed.  Just after I turned out the lights, it started to POUR rain–oh, what a lovely sound, when heard from INSIDE a cabin, UNDER a roof!  Back to the PCT tomorrow!

An “interesting” start for the day today–I misread my watch in the early morning darkness and thought it said 5:30 am when in actual fact it was only 4:30 am!  We sat up, ate our breakfast, and started packing up under the tarp, wondering “Why is it still so dark?”  We could tell that it was cloudy, but that didn’t account for the blackness.   Then I took another look at my watch and said, “Oh no–it’s WAY early!  No wonder it’s dark!”  So we draped our sleeping bags over us and lay down for another 20 minutes, till the light was better.  As a result, we got an early start on our hike today, which was good, because I had labelled today as “Scary Day,” due to the upcoming crossing of the “unfordable Suiattle River.”

The sunrise was gorgeous as we hiked along the PCT–all colors, and beautiful cloud formations.  We were still surrounded by snowy peaks, and the trail continued to climb gently through a very alpine area before it finally launched into another10 kazillion switchbacks down into the valley below.  Partway down is Dolly Vista camp (and yes, the vistas ARE awesome!) where we met another thruhiker just packing up.  He said he was so thrilled with the beauty of the view and the sunrise that he just sat and watched the sky instead of “hitting the trail” as soon as he woke up.  Then he said, “I may be wrong, but I really think the PCT yesterday was at least 2 or 3 miles longer than the guidebook says, with all those long new switchbacks.  What do you guys think?”   Well, we fervently agreed!

Then we continued down the switchbacks.  Marmot holes were everywhere, sometimes located one right above the other in a hillside, and even right next to the PCT–but there were no marmots in sight anywhere.  Were they all still asleep?  Did they start hibernating already?

Once we got down into the forest, the “fun” began.  The trail was constantly being blockaded by blowdowns of HUMUNGEOUS trees.  Their trunk diameters were enormous.  When I stood next to one of these fallen giants, lying on its side, it was taller than I am.And often when one fell, it took a bunch of other trees down with it, so we were being faced by some really complex obstacle courses.  Sometimes we detoured way out around the blowdown mess, fervently hoping we’d be able to relocate the PCT on the other side.  At one point, I really thought we HAD lost the trail and was trying to figure out what to do.  Sometimes we climbed over the huge fallen monsters.  Sometimes we sort of squiggled through them.  On one in particular, Bill was busy looking for a way to climb over, while I wandered off a bit to the side and discovered a way to squeeze UNDER.   Later on, we met another hiker who said he actually used a rope to climb over that tree, only to discover after all his efforts, that he could have squeezed under it farther “up the line.”  His comment was, “GRRRRRR!”   I was also kind of “grrring” because the bottoms of my pant legs are so beat up after 2,500 miles, that they were catching in everything and getting torn up even worse.  My solution finally was to tuck them into my socks. 

But aside from the blowdowns, the forest was lovely.  It looked like sort of rainforest to me.  The trees were huge, the plants were lush and green, and the creeks were pretty.  We had a couple of creek crossings–Bill logwalked, and I forded.   If I tried to logwalk, it would take too long. 

Eventually we reached a much more open, drier forest and the trail headed straight for the notorious Suiattle River.   We’d been told to follow the rock ducks to where a log provided a safe crossing of the “unfordable” river.  Sure enough,  when we got to the bottom of the valley, there was a vast, wide “moonscape” that was the bed of the river when it’s in full raging torrent.  It was all sand and boulders.  Footprints and ducks led off to the right, upstream, but we could see glimpses of the river.  I thought to myself, “That doesn’t look any worse than some of the Sierra rivers we had to ford.”  and thought about suggesting that we just go for it and ford the Suiattle.  But I decided maybe it would be better to use the log, since everyone seemed so emphatic about that being the ONLY safe way across.

We slogged along through the sand and rocks for quite a ways before the “trail” turned toward the river, and there was The Log, which other hikers had described as “substantial.”  My first reaction was, “Substantial, hah!  That’s one skinny log!  I thought it was going to be a big moose of a thing, like those blowdowns we got through earlier.”   And I would agree that the Suiattle AT THAT POINT was definitely unfordable.  It was roaring and obviously deep, because it was in a narrow place (which is why the log fit all the way across). 

Bill crossed first, just walking carefully, and was soon on the other side.  There was no way I was going to walk that log!  So I got down and crawled across,  making sure of each move so that I would not slip.  Fortunately, the log still had its bark on, so that gave a good secure, non-slippery surface to hold on to.   It was still very scary for me.  I just kept moving along, praying as I went that I would choose the right spots to hold on to and that I would be OK.  And the only problem I had (sigh) was that out in the very middle, where the current below is at its worst, there was the root part of another tree that had caught against The Log I was crossing on.  One of the roots caught my trek poles which were lashed to my pack  and I had to sort of sit down and disentangle the root from my poles before moving on.   To say I was glad to reach the other side would be a huge understatement!    This kind of thing scares me tremendously, and I told God I was VERY grateful for His help, courage-wise!  Bill also gave me a hug, and that helped, too!

Then we followed a sometimes confusing “path” of hiker footprints and occasional rock ducks, back downstream to the PCT.  This side of the river wasn’t just sand and rocks–it also included a lot of logs, so that made the going a bit trickier.  The PCT headed uphill for our last big climb–to the top of Suiattle Pass.  Partway up, at the corner of a switchback, we stopped to cook some lunch, and another hiker caught up with us.  Crossing the Suiattle was the topic of conversation, of course!  We all agreed that it would probably have been easier to just ford the river down where the PCT “officially” crosses, since the river is wider there and no worse than the Sierra rivers.

The trail up to the pass was all in forest at first, with no views, but there was very pretty fall foliage along the trail.  Finally we got up high enough to see mountain views–but we also got a good view of the sky, and sighed when we saw that it had really clouded over.  This morning had been a mix of sun and clouds, but now it looked like the clouds had won, and were planning to rain.  At the top of the pass, we cheered, “Stehekin, here we come!” and began charging down the switchbacks.  The trail was very nice dirt, not all rough and rocky.

However, that nice dirt trail at one point had a little loop of root lurking, and I caught my left toe in it.  I was hiking very fast, and before I realized what had happened, I was flying through the air, off the trail, just barely missing a stump.  I landed on my back, and my pack took the brunt of the fall, so I was not hurt at all.  I was lying there thinking, “Thankyou, Lord–I’m OK!” and Bill, back up on the trail, looked down and said, “Wow, you did a great mid-air turn there, to land on your back!”  Well,  it wasn’t me that organized that mid-air turn.  I think it was just physics–my pack was heavy enough to pull me around.  And hey, I also give God some credit, too.  That could have been a really bad fall, especially if I hit the stump.  I agree with Joe Anderson at Casa de Luna–there is no such thing as “luck”–it was at least to some degree, God at work. 

Bill gave me a hand up from where I’d landed, and I looked myself over–all fine, except for mud all over my pant leg.  I now look very disreputable–one pant leg all torn up from climbing over blowdowns and the other all covered with mud.  

But a short time later, it was Bill’s turn to look disreputable, only in a much more serious way.  We had turned off the PCT to follow the  South Fork Agnes Creek Trail down toward Stehekin.  We took this trail in 2005 and liked it then, because it just simply and steadily heads downhill all the way, whereas if you stick with the PCT, you have a goodly climb first, then the downhill.  We’d gone a good distance on the Agnes Creek trail when we reached a very simple, steppingstone crossing of a creek.  I was ahead, and went happily across, then headed on along the trail, when I heard a yelp and cry from Bill.  I screeched to a halt and hurried back to the creek, to find Bill all bloody-legged and sort of tangled up on the rocks.  It turned out that he had slipped on one of the steppingstones and fell–not into the creek, but into more rocks.  He had badly gashed his shin and had blood everywhere, running down his leg and dripping on the rocks.  It looked bad enough that for a moment I was afraid he might have broken his leg.   But he managed to get to his feet and hobble the rest of the way across the creek, where we assessed the damage. Whew!  It was a nasty gash and a lot of scraping, but didn’t look like a hike-ending injury.  But it was pretty messy.  Bill had blood all over his pants, socks and shoe.  I cleaned up the gash and we put a large bandaid on it.   Then to add to the “fun”, as we were working on Bill’s leg, the clouds that had been threatening to rain decided “It’s rain time!” and there we were trying to fix Bill’s leg while the rain came down.  So we had to scramble to put on rain gear and get our packs into “rain mode”.

Finally all was done, and Bill began to cautiously walk again to see how his leg felt.  He said he could manage to hike OK, so we marched on through the rain, pushing through very wet bushes overhanging the trail. At times the bushes were so thick we could hardly see the trail.   Previous to this section, the trail had actually been very well-maintained, including bush-trimming.  Oh well.

We stopped for supper under a tree where the ground was still dry and decided to push on for as long as we dared, in hopes of minimizing the mileage into Stehekin tomorrow.   Bill wanted to make the 9:00 bus; I figured we’d never make that, but could at least walk into Stehekin Valley Ranch by lunchtime.    The rain continued off and on as we hurried along.  We reached Hemlock Camp, where the PCT and Agnes Creek trail rejoin and pushed on till 7 pm, when it was starting to get dark–we did succeed in reaching the next of the camps.  A light rain was falling as we set up the tarp and got ready for bed, which included me carefully cleaning and bandaging Bill’s very nasty cuts and scrapes.  His leg was a mess, but I think it will be OK, aside from probably a bit of scarring.  I am sure I will have a permanent scar on my knee from when I fell, weeks ago.  It still has not really healed, though it doesn’t hurt and shows no sign of infection.

We are at a much lower elevation here than we have been for several days, and it is noticeably warmer.  Agnes Creek is roaring close by.  I was VERY glad to finally crawl into the sleeping bag and listen to the rain pattering on the tarp.  This has been quite a day!

The “21.6 miles” we OFFICIALLY did does not reflect our actual mileage.  The newly constructed PCT trail we covered today was at least 3 miles (if not more) longer than what the guidebook says.  All the hikers we met today were grumping about it.   The new trail is very nice, but it is also way longer than the original PCT.   The new part is between Fire Creek Pass and Milk Creek.

We knew the trail today would be tough–the guidebook described long “killer uphills”, many creek crossings where bridges had been washed out and were (mostly) now rebuilt, etc.  So we got up very early, ate in the dark, broke camp while it was still pretty dark, and got ontrail when it was still a bit hard to see. 

And down, down, down we went into very dim,damp, green, mossy forest.  Mushrooms were popping up everywhere, in all colors and sizes, from tiny little white mushrooms to huge big ones, and there was a fair amount of what I call “land coral” , a very colorful fungi that looks like coral on a tropical reef.   The forest also did indeed contain many creeks, as the guidebook said.  Some had very nice new bridges, and there were some where we had to stand on the creekbank and figure out how to get across.   The first bridge we came to was a new one but we could see the tangled wreck of the old bridge just upstream.  At another of the new bridges, there were huge log jumbles lying upstream and downstream.  I guess before the bridge went in, each hiker could pick their favorite log to cross on?? Another bridge had its “back broken” so that it sagged down in the middle, but it was still usable, and we crossed with care.

On this whole stretch of the PCT, as you circle Glacier Peak, either you are in deep, dark forest with the mushrooms, or you are out in a boulder field, or you are negotiating a creek crossing.  The boulder fields were particularly impressive–they testify to the terrifying power of avalanches and floods coming down off of Glacier Peak.

The “big climb of the day” was up to Fire Creek Pass.  I wasted probably a mile of hiking at least, because I was not sure we were on the PCT after we crossed Pumice Creek, because I wasn’t sure it WAS actually Pumice Creek!   So after we’d hiked a little while, I got worried and turned back all the way to the creek, looking to see if we’d missed a turnoff and were on the wrong trail.  Nope.  We were on the PCT all the time.  Whew.  So back we went again.  The climb up to Fire Creek Pass was amazing, view-wise, once we got out of the forest and creek crossings.  It was such a relief to be back in open air with rugged snowy peaks in every direction.   For added fun, there was even a military jet, sort of messing around overhead–fun to watch and cheer!  The trail took us up close and personal with Glacier Peak itself–wow!  It is impressive and well-named, with huge glaciers on all sides. 

From the top of Fire Creek Pass, there are jagged snowy mountains all the way to the horizon, in every direction.  We joked about, “Can we see Canada yet?”  and took several pictures before starting on the many switchbacks heading down.  We passed magnificent Mica Lake, which is an extraordinary blue color (I’m guessing it must be very deep?) and even has a beautiful white sand beach.  Bill said it looked like the South Pacific!

As we got down deeper into the valley below, heading for Milk Creek, we encountered a lot of “trail under construction.”  We went happily down what was obviously NEW trail, and every now and then we could see some of the “old” switchbacks.   The new trail had very LOOOOONG, gentle switchbacks, which made us joke again, “This must be the PCT!  It goes UP in order to go DOWN!”   Some parts of the trail were “old” trail, and fairly narrow.  We were zipping right along–maybe too zippy, because Bill fell off the trail.  It was one of those things where he stepped on the outer edge and it gave way under his foot.  The mountainside was almost straight down and very muddy & slippery, so he started to slide and could not stop.  It was scary.  But finally a bush brought him to a halt and he was able with considerable effort to climb back up.   He said, “Man, I thought I was going all the way down to the next switchback!” 

It seemed like it took forever to reach the bridge over Milk Creek.  Not long after the bridge was a sign that said if you were going NORTH on the PCT, to keep on switchbacking DOWN till you reached the Milk Creek trail, and THEN the trail would start back up the other side of the canyon.

I looked at our maps and said, “This is weird!  According to the map, the PCT goes right down to Milk Creek and then right on up the other side.  But we have been going WAY far away from what the map shows.  I guess it’s the new route–they did say the new bridge was in a totally different place.  No kidding!” 

It took us 2 hours to climb the 10 kazillion switchbacks up and out of the canyon.  Bill has been having more and more trouble with big climbs,  and I was worried because it was obvious there would be no flat places to camp till we got to the top.  So I took off and headed right on up with the idea of finding a campsite, so that when Bill got there, we wouldn’t be hunting desperately for something with the sun going down.   Sure enough, I found a really nice spot, and Bill finally arrived at 7:00, which gave us just enough daylight to get settled before dark.   Whew!  I had been getting worried.

When I calculated our “mileage” I was incredulous.  Twenty-one miles?  Impossible! We must have done more than that!  I knew we had been moving right along, and really going fast on the long downhills.   The only thing I could conclude was that the new trail must have been several MILES longer than the old PCT.  I did factor in that there were parts of the trail today which were very muddy (made for slower going) and though a good amount of  “brushing” had been done, there were still sections where we were pushing through plants and climbing over blowdowns (trees) and rolldowns (big rocks & boulders).  And I’d wasted some time dithering by Pumice Creek.   But still–we MUST have done more miles than just 21!

Our opinion so far of the official PCT vs the detour is that the detour is much easier, hiking-wise.  The official PCT is rather tough and strenous.  Scenery-wise, the detour is very pretty, but the official PCT is spectacular.   So our conclusion as to which one to take, well, I would say “It depends.”   If you are in a hurry to reach Canada, take the detour–it’s quicker and easier.  If you feel up to a tough, but magnificent hike, take the official PCT.

When the rain stopped last night, it really did stop!  We didn’t even have tree drip on our tarp this morning!  Again, because of the dark and cold, we ate breakfast “in bed,”  while Colter did the same.  He had asked somewhat anxiously last night about how early we usually got up and was relieved to hear 5:30 was our time.  Apparently that’s his “rise ‘n shine time”, too, and he was concerned about bothering us if we planned to get up later. 

To my delight, the sky showed mostly clear–the clouds were almost all gone.  We could see a real sunrise with pretty colors–not just grayness gradually getting lighter.  Eventually the sky cleared completely–for the first time since we went through Goat Rocks.  The PCT took us through a wide variety of scenery–meadows, forests, huge boulder fields and mountains.  The plants were all soaking wet, so we wore our raingear, but wow!  We loved taking Snickers breaks in the SUN at last!    All morning long we were leapfrogging with Happy Camper, Trashbucket and Colter.

A long steep climb that ended at 11:30 am landed us on top of a pass with lots of warm sun and DRY ground and DRY bushes!  Wahoo–garage sale time!  Soon we had all our stuff spread out everywhere, drying in the sun.  We also enjoyed a special treat of really good coffee that the Manns had given to us.  Butterflies were everywhere, landing on us and on our stuff.   But their favorite item was an orange-colored plastic bag that we keep our garbage in.   We wondered whether it was the orange color or the garbage that attracted their attention.

Just as we were packing up to leave, along came Colter, who was very happy to have such a perfect spot to stop and dry HIS gear!  And while we were still eating lunch, HC and TB had come along .  They stopped to ask a number of questions about Stehekin, because they were worried about getting there when the post office was open.  They were also very puzzled as to why the Stehekin bus takes a whole hour to go just 10 miles from the PCT to the town. We explained that it had several stops where the bus waits around for awhile before going on–especially at the famous Stehekin Bakery.

After lunch, the trail did various ups and downs and contours before landing us at the junction with the detour trail.  Happy Camper and Trashbucket were already there, enjoying one of their very healthy snacks (hummus and corn chips this time) so we joined them and ate our Snickers.   They are trying to make lots of miles, in an effort to reach Stehekin well before the weekend.   They took off, and eventually we followed them, now headed into what for us was a totally new part of the PCT.  (We followed the detour route in 2005). 

Up ahead of us lay a whole bunch of snowy mountains, and the trail headed straight towards them, climbing gently at first, then more steeply as we got closer to Red Pass, contouring along very steep mountainsides along deep, deep valleys, wooded on the sides, but with a meadow and meandering little creek in each “bottom land.”   The PCT is up very high, mostly above the woods, on hillsides covered with green grass and various plants.  The plants are turning color–mostly yellow–so the overall effect is very pretty;  the mountainsides have a sort of glowing yellow-green effect.   The actual mountaintops were hidden in clouds, but the sun was still shining on the trail where we were hiking.  

Suppertime found us in nice warm sunshine on a hillside with an AWESOME view in all directions–snowcovered peaks and beautiful meadows.  We agreed that today has been absolutely delightful, even though it was hard work–those 25 miles we did were tough miles.   Not long after supper, we reached Red Pass.  The approach to the pass from our side was green and pretty, but the other side was like instantly being transported to another planet.  It was barren and rocky and had a fair amount of snow, some of which we had to cross in order to get down from the Pass.   At this point it was getting late in the day and we were anxious to get down as low as we could to find a campsite. 

Getting down was not easy.  The trail was muddy and rocky; water from snowmelt was running everywhere.  Every flat spot was a puddle!  I was seriously getting worried about where we could camp, but we made it down to treeline and found a wonderful campsite on a dry knoll.  We could hear a creek roaring in the distance, and in the sunset light, the moon was rising above the mountains, very ethereal and beautiful.   Clouds were moving in from the north, but the evening was warmer than it has been, which was very nice.   I thought about tomorrow’s “killer hiking day” coming up, and hoped for a good night’s sleep.

Since it wasn’t very far to Steven’s Pass, and we weren’t due to meet the Manns till later in the morning, we “lazed in bed” till 6:00 am before eating breakfast.  It was barely starting to get light, and we didn’t rush it munching our granola, and then took our time with packing up and heading out.  The trail continued to be very, very muddy, so just as yesterday, we spent a lot of time hiking the EDGES of the trail.  (Seemed like “on trail” hiking and “edge-hiking” were about equal in terms of how many miles of each!)  There were also several rocky stretches as we climbed up and up to the top of the ski chair lifts and through a powerline clearcut. 

It was a great relief to finally head downhill to Steven’s Pass ski area.  The resort looked very well-kept, and it had expanded quite a bit since we last saw it in 2005.  Then, hooray!  Down near the road, there was a hiker cache!  It was a cooler with Pepsi and big, juicy carrots.  Great snack!  We strolled over to where we were to meet the Manns, munching carrots and sipping Pepsi.   While we were waiting,  a couple of retired Navy guys came by and stopped for a chat.  They are exploring the USA via Amtrak and rented cars, and are having a great time!  They are planning to head for Canada next.   Hmmmm–so are we!   But most important, they filled us in on the situation in Skykomish, and it didn’t sound very good.   The whole town is a Superfund cleanup site, and everything is a mess right now.   The only place that’s open where you can eat is the tavern, and the deli and the convenience store.    Oh well–we will just have to make the best of it.

Shortly afterwards, the Manns arrived, with their adorable dachshunds and lots of fresh fruit, which we devoured during the ride down to Skykomish.  What was left of the town had a number of thruhikers hanging about.  They said there were a few rooms available at the Cascade Inn, but we wanted to get back to the trail.    It was a cloudy, chilly day, with rain threatening, so we really savored the platefuls of chili dogs ‘n all the fixings we got at the Whistlestop Tavern.  We also went to the gas station convenience store to get more food to add to our packs. I was very happy to find everything I needed, even in such a small store!   We loaded our packs (yum, bulging with good food!) filled our Platypuses at the deli, and the Manns took us back up to the PCT.  I was very encouraged by Lucy Mann’s comments about the Suiattle River crossing.  “It’s a good solid log there,” she said.  “My balance is terrible, so I crawled across, but I made it just fine.” 

We set off under a very gray sky, and enjoyed the mostly level walk where the trail follows an old road.  Pretty soon it was back to uphill, but an uphill that went through forests with huge mossy rocks and occasional meadows. No views, though–the clouds were low, and then it started to rain.  We caught up with Colter, then with Happy Camper & Trashbucket when they stopped for a break, and we met a number of dayhikers scurrying back to their cars because of the rain.  

HC and TB told us about a thruhiker couple who had walked all the way from Campo, then quit at Snoqualmie Pass because the night before they reached the Pass, they’d camped in what they thought was a nice protected spot, and woke up in the night to find themselves in the middle of a large puddle.  All their gear got soaked.  Apparently that “was it”.  They decided they couldn’t take it anymore and were making arrangements to go home.  HC and TB said they tried to persuade them to go on, but the couple would not even discuss it.  “We’ve had enough of cold and rain,” they said.  “We’ll come back next summer and finish.”

HC, TB, Bill and I all agreed that day after day of cold and rain is NOT fun, and we are all counting down the days to when we reach Canada.  Having bad weather for so long is really wearing on our ability to be cheerful and enjoy the hike, but we are trying!  Mostly, though, it’s become an endurance slog and a determination challenge.  BUT–the weather forecast is for slowly improving conditions, and both the Manns and the Dinsmores (who are trail angels near Skykomish) say things always get drier and sunnier as the trail gets nearer to Stehekin, since that’s on the east side of the Cascades, rather than the wet west side.   So maybe things will get better.

Not too far along from there, we had an “Awwwwww!” moment.  A little flock of very wet, bedraggled grouse were huddled in the middle of the trail.  It looked like a mama and three almost-grown chicks.  Instead of the usual protocol of diving into the bushes,  the grouse family began to run down the trail ahead of us.  We kept hiking, and they kept running ahead of us, never veering off the trail, for quite awhile.  I felt sorry for them–it was raining and cold and they looked so miserable and so freaked out by us being there.  Finally they turned off and disappeared into the mists and cloud that surrounded us.

From hiking here in 2005, I knew that the views from the trail were spectacular, but  all we could see was the dead remains of wildflower plants (a few still with flowers, but obviously just about “done”) and the bushes/trees were just beginning to show some fall color.  The trail itself was very wet, but hooray–no deep mud like we had to deal with yesterday!  We also agreed that we are very glad it is not snowing. 

However, given the weather conditions (cold, rainy and windy), and the fact that the trail was continually either contouring on a steep mountainside OR else the only flat spots were mini-lakes in very alpine areas,  we decided to start seriously looking for a campsite at the early hour of 6:30 pm.  I did not want to run the risk of having to frantically hunt for a place with the sun going down.   6:30 came and went, and it was another half hour of hiking before we finally spotted a little flat spot under some trees–and it was already occupied by Colter, setting up his tent.  However, he very hospitably agreed to let us squeeze our tarp in next to him.  “I think we can manage if we’re careful not to trip over each other’s tent cords,” was his comment.  And best of all, there was a little place right by one of the tree trunks where the ground was actually DRY!  We all stowed our packs there.

After we’d gotten set for the night, the rain stopped.  But we are IN the clouds and it was still very wet.  I think we are about a half mile from Grizzly Peak, but I am not sure.    It was nice to have Colter’s company, and tomorrow’s weather report says the rain may stop for a couple of days.  Hope so!