Day 147: Stevens Pass to Boulder Field Near Crest

After a delicious breakfast, we returned to the trailhead. Itchy and Scratchy hiked into the parking lot just as we arrived, anxious to get into town to pick up their resupply. As we were pulling out our packs we heard a voice "Do you remember me?" It was Orange Pacer, one of the day hikers who had shared treats and encouragement on the rainy day as we were hiking near Tacoma Pass. Masa and Kanji, two Japanese hikers, were also waiting near the trailhead, hoping to get a ride to town to pick up their resupplies.

From the trailhead, we crossed over to the north side of the highway. From there the trail disappeared into a green tunnel of trees, huckleberry bushes, ferns, and other plants. A variety of fungi also grew near the trail.

Although it is easy to forget what day of the week it is when you are hiking, crowds of day hikers reminded us that today was Saturday. Deer hunting season had also just started in the area, bringing even more people into the woods.

We spent much of our day climbing from one ridge to another. Each time we popped out above treeline, Glacier Peak loomed ahead, towering above the other mountains in the area. The view of glacier and snow capped Glacier Peak across a beautiful ridge carpeted with golden green grass dotted with white puffs of dandelion seed pods and other wildflowers was a highlight of the afternoon.

It was getting dark when we reached the Pear Lake trail junction. Although we had planned to camp near the junction, with no camping in sight, we decided to press on. But as the trail climbed another ridge and traversed a steep hillside, we still could not find camping.

The trail passed through a huge boulder field as it traversed the steep hillside. Reaching a large, flat, platform-like boulder, we decided to camp for the night. Our rock provided an excellent view of the night sky, and promised more views of the surrounding area when the sun rose in the morning.

Day 146: Glacier Lake to Stevens Pass

Bzzzzz bzzzz bzzzzz! We woke to the incessant buzz of a swarm of hungry mosquitoes circling our heads. Highly motivated, we packed up quickly and began hiking.

From Glacier Lake we climbed steeply up to Trap Pass (5,800 ft). We often joke that the PCT trail builders must have been paid by the mile, as the trail often takes circuitous routes and uses switchbacks so gradual that they sometimes gain elevation when they are supposed to be going downhill. But whoever built the trail to Trap Pass was definitely not paid by the mile. The steep switchbacks left the distinct impression that the trail builders there had been paid by the vertical foot!

From the top of the pass we had excellent views of the colorful mountains on either side, simultaneously blanketed with spring wildflowers and autumn colors on the huckleberry bushes and shrubs. Descending from the pass, spiderwebs crossed the trail. I brushed past web after web until my arms felt coated with sticky thread.

We passed several beautiful lakes: Hope Lake, Mig Lake, and Lake Susan Jane. Just after Lake Susan Jane we were passed by Action and Minor, the first PCT hikers we had seen for days. Action and I laughed about how the last time we had seen each other it was around mile 200. Now we meet again with 200 miles left to go!

We climbed to the top of the ridge, then descended underneath the Stevens Pass chairlifts on the other side. Sierra and I were still marveling at the lights (night skiing!!!) when we reached the trailhead parking lot (4,060 ft). Time for resupply, rest, and relaxation before we hike out again tomorrow.

Day 145: Waptus River to Glacier Lake

A thick haze of smoke blanketed the cool, damp valley, leaving the wet, ashy smell of a campfire that had just been doused by water. Other hikers tell us that the smoke is brought by the wind from the Wenatchee fire, a safe distance away.

The ground and plants were all covered with dew drops, and our pant legs quickly soaked through as we brushed past wet, overgrown huckleberry bushes and thimbleberry vines. Although the trail paralleled the Waptus River and Waptus Lake shore, a dense forest separated us from the water. Then the trail turned and began switchbacked up the Deep Creek canyon. Near the top of the canyon the trail narrowed, following ledge high above Deep Creek. A short climb brought us to the beautiful meadow carpeted basin that holds Deep Lake.

A tapping noise drew our attention up to an old tree stump. A woodpecker jackhammered into the gray, bare stump. A black and orange butterfly with delicate scalloped wings also flitted about.

Ahead, Cathedral Peak rose before us like a great rocky cathedral adorned in colorful tapestries of deep green pines, pale green lichen, and reddish gold shrubs. We climbed to the top of nearby Cathedral Pass (5,610 ft), then quickly lost most of the elevation we had struggled all morning to gain.

A thick cloud of smoke greeted us when we reached Deception Lakes. But even the smoke could not obscure the beauty of the grassy meadows that fringed the lakeshores and the rocky cliffs rising behind them.

The late afternoon sun lit the mountains with a golden hue as we climbed up to Pieper Pass (5,920 ft). As the sun slipped behind the eastern ridge, we dropped down the steep, rocky slope to our camp at Glacier Lake.

Day 144: Park Lakes Basin to Waptus River

The scent of smoke wafted into the tent. Unzipping the tent flip, I poked my head outside. A smoky gaze hung in the air. Definitely not a campfire.

The sun had already reached our camp by the time we started hiking. Nevertheless, the morning air was cold and the frozen trail crunched beneath our feet. A thin sheet of ice blanketed the water at the edge of a nearby pond.

The morning sun bathed the jagged peaks above us with a soft light, making them look like turrets on a golden castle. The mountains continued in an unbroken line off in the distance, hazy and blue in the smoke.

The trail plummeted into a forested valley with a damp, mossy undergrowth of ferns, berry vines, and other green plants. Very little light penetrated the dense foliage and the ground remained cool and damp. Mushrooms forced their way out of the hard packed earth.

We started climbing again in the afternoon, eventually climbing past treeline into a grassy cirque dotted with small tarns (5,520 ft). Approaching a stream, several small tan objects leapt from the trail in front of us. More frogs swam in a nearby pool or sunned themselves on rocks.

Leaving the cirque, we slowly switchbacked down into the rocky, forested bed of the Waptus River (3,020 ft). By the time we reached the wooden bridge that spanned the river, the sun had already slipped behind the mountains, leaving us in darkness.

Finding a large, flat ledge above the river, we decided to camp. "Is that Mama Bear and Monkey?" a voice called in the darkness. Matt, Jennifer, and Rachel were camped nearby and invited us to join them by their fire. We ate dinner and relaxed by the campfire, then headed back to our own camp to bed.

Day 143: Snoqualmie Pass to Park Lakes Basin

First stop?  The Summit Inn Pancake House, where we saw our friends Piia, Matt, Jennifer, Rachel, Masa, Kanji, and several other familiar faces.  After a delicious breakfast, we headed back to the trailhead (3,030 ft).

The trail climbed steeply through a forest still wet from three days of rain. Wet huckleberry bushes and other overgrown plants soaked our pant legs as we brushed past. We soon climbed to treeline and were treated to views of the surrounding peaks, the Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

Approaching the crest, we heard a day hiker behind us call "mountain goat!"  Sure enough, a bright, white mountain goat stood out in sharp contrast to the darker rock on the steep hillside. The goat raised his head for a moment, then disappeared into the low, scrubby alpine trees. We spotted a silverback marmot later that day.

The trail followed reached the ridge and narrowed as it traversed the steep hillside in a section the locals referred to as "the catwalk" due to the sharp drop off on the downhill side. The views were incredible, with deep blue alpine lakes set against a backdrop of rugged mountains dotted with snow.

We stayed high, climbing to almost 6,000 feet as we traversed ridges and steep hillsides all afternoon. But when the late afternoon sun slipped behind the eastern ridge, the temperature instantly dropped 10 or 20 degrees and we began to search for camp. We soon found a nice camp in a U-shaped grove of trees and settled in for the night.

Day 142: Mirror Lake to Snoqualmie Pass

A heavy rain continued to pelt the outside of our tent. Looking over at Sierra, I noticed the foot of her sleeping bag protruding out from under the side of our tent, soaking her bag and letting a stream of water into the tent. Our sleeping pads and gear now sat in a pool of water. I checked the time. Just after 4:00 a.m. Too early to get up. With no way to bail out the water, I rolled over and went back to sleep.

It was still raining when we woke again. We packed up our sodden gear, which had gained significant weight and bulk with the addition of water.  Squishing down the trail, I felt sharp pains in my fingers and toes in the wet, cold air. We were both so wet and cold we barely noticed the beautiful green mossy forest, with swampy pools and ponds.

As the sky started to clear, fingers of mist and cloud slowly retreated from the valley. A few rays of sun reached us, and we finally caught a glimpse of the mountains we had just hiked through, obscured by clouds and storm for three days. Soon we saw the chairlifts at Snoqualmie Pass (3,030 ft), where we headed into town to resupply and dry out.

Day 141: Ridge Near Road 784 to Mirror Lake

Pitter patter pitter patter. The rain continued to drip onto our tent. Huddled inside, we packed up. Then we headed out into the storm.

A thick foggy must engulfed our camp, obscuring our view of anything farther than twenty feet down our path. A light mist slowly trickled down the outside of our raingear. Water soaked into our pants as we brushed past wet huckleberry bushes. More water seeped into our shoes as we squished our way down the sodden trail.

We plodded down the trail, fingers and toes numb. Approaching Tacoma Pass I noticed a sign proclaiming "Trail Magic! Hot food, ...". Our pace quickened. Not Phil's Dad (father of a 2009 PCT hiker) had a complete set up. Sheltered under a large pop up, two large camp stoves were used to make hot drinks and chili dogs. Under another large pop up were five chairs and all the food you could imagine: fresh fruit, muffins, cookies, candy, granola bars, chips, nuts, Gatorade, and other drinks. Three Washington section hikers joined in the feast.  After a blissful hour and a half of food and relaxation, we finally hiked on.

Not far up the trail, we heard voices approaching up the trail.  Expecting hunters, we hesitated, hoping the bright, shiny ribbons tied to our packs would be visible through the fog.  To our surprise, a large group of day hikers greeted us.

"Are you two thru-hikers?" the group asked incredulously.  "We have something for you!"  Orange Pacer, Alpine Goat, the newly-named Starbucks, and several other day hikers dug through their packs, pulling out an assortment of candy.  One by one, they each handed us a treat as they hiked by.  "This feels like Halloween!" I quipped, as I gratefully accepted a package of mint M&Ms from one of the hikers.  For the second time that day, the words "thank you" seemed inadequate to convey the debt of gratitude we felt for the warmth and good cheer that had been shared with us on such a cold and stormy day.
We spent most of our afternoon hiking with Matt, Jennifer, and Rachel, the Washington section hikers. Matt is an expert on mushrooms, and shared some of his knowledge as we navigated a series of steep ridges (aka pointless ups and downs).

We reached Stirrup Creek and set up camp before dark. The rain resumed just as we finished and we piled our gear inside. We dried things off as best we could and began to settle in for a relaxing evening in the tent.

Sensing movement, I searched the corner of the tent near my feet. Two eyes stared back at me. I shrieked. A small gray mouse dashed out of the corner of the tent, back into the rainstorm.

Although it was hard to leave our warm, dry camp, we decided to move on. Mice can be destructive little vermin, well known for gnawing holes in backpacking gear (or shoes!) even when there is no food inside. Peering out into the darkness with my headlamp, multiple mice scattered, dashing away from the headlamp beam wherever I pointed it. We were surrounded.

Despite the rain, we packed up and began hiking down the trail. With dark, angry clouds obscuring the night sky, the trail was pitch black. My dimming headlamp cast a faint glow directly in front of me, more shadow than light. I tried to stay directly behind Sierra, whose headlamp was brighter, but repeatedly stumbled over rocks and tree roots, unable to see them in the dark. Our pace slowed.

Reaching Mirror Lake, we finally found flat ground and set up our soggy tent. Once inside, we dried off as best we could, exchanging soggy, dripping socks and clothing for dry ones before crawling into dry, warm sleeping bags for the night.