Day One Hundred Six

Today's miles: 24
Total miles: 2194

I woke up last night at 12:30 to the sound of rain hammering on my tent fly. It was so windy on top of our ridge that my tent creaked in the force of it, but refused to topple. When I woke up again at 6 and poked my head out, everything was soggy, and a heavy, white fog settled over us all.

Treekiller, Wocka, Giddyup and I packed up our wet gear and spent the first five miles of our day slowly winding our way downhill. At our first water break we joined a new group of thru-hikers we hadn't met before: Haggis, Running Commentary, Lt. Dan, Boo Boo Kitty Softpaws, Hops and British John. It was nice to have company, though they hiked much faster than we did and quickly left us in the dust.

Our day was a series of five mile climbs and descents, rising in and out of the rainy fog that covered the mountain tops. The climbs were surprisingly difficult for me today. I had skipped dinner last night due to exhaustion and hadn't eaten much before that or this morning, so my body was running on low fuel. My feet dragged and felt like they were strapped with ten pound weights. Lethargy set in, and I could feel myself starting to get cranky and moody, something I've discovered is a final warning sign for my extreme hunger.

When I stopped for a break with Wocka, Giddyup and TK at the top of another climb, I plopped down heavily beside them and sighed, "Today's going to be rough; I can already tell."
Eating a snack helped my energy levels a little, and once again the trail descended for five miles.
As we rounded a bend, TK found a note placed on the trail that read:
"There is a fucking WASPS NEST on trail fifty feet ahead. BEWARE! Imminent pain lies ahead! I tried to run past it and the bastards drew blood. I had to retreat. DO NOT BE BRAVE. Bushwhack around the trail to your left. Hugs, Stumbling Beef."
"Great," Treekiller groaned.

We were on a narrow curve of trail cut into the side of a hill, which meant that bushwhacking was going to be tricky business. Not wanting to get stung, however, we climbed hands-over-feet into the bushes above the trail and thrashed through the trees a bit until we came out again further down the trail, out of sight of the wasps's nest. We learned later that many thru-hikers before and after us had the unfortunate luck of getting badly stung by several wasps there.

We hurried onward, and at the bottom of the descent was a river and a bridge where we hoped to eat lunch. As it turned out, we weren't the only ones there. Haggis, Running Commentary, Lt. Dan, Boo Boo Kitty Softpaws, Hops and British John were already chatting and eating lunch with a woman who had her van parked beside the bridge and was giving out trail magic snacks.

Still grumpy from hunger, I draped my soggy tent over tree branches to dry (though it wasn't very sunny) and pulled out my stove to cook a hot meal. The rush of calories made a huge difference, and by the time we started hiking again, I was feeling better. My tent was only slightly drier, but I figured it would have time to dry overnight if the breeze was stiff enough.

Despite difficult terrain, we were making great time. We had already gone fifteen miles by 2:00 and originally our plan was to only do twenty-two miles to get to a nice, established campsite labeled on trail. But the terrain was so flat for the next seven miles that we breezed through it and got to the campsite much too early. It was difficult to leave; the beautiful trees and flat car-camping spaces were luring us, and the river nearby was lovely. But there was another difficult climb ahead and we decided we wanted to get through as much of it tonight as possible so we wouldn't have to do it first thing in the morning.

We decided to go another five miles, making it a proper 27 mile day. I turned on a podcast and cruised up the climb, feeling strong. But though I was feeling confident, Mother Nature had other plans. Our foggy, misty, wet day finally dropped and it began to rain. Not just rain, but thunder. And as we climbed, the ridge became more and more exposed, and the lightning grew closer and closer, until it was cracking right over our heads. How I hated being caught in thunderstorms outside! There was hardly anything that frightened me more than being without shelter when lighting struck above me. Where was Sunshine when I needed him, to hide under his Tyvek together?
Giddyup was in the lead, and I was running right on Wocka's heels, Treekiller not too far behind.
"I don't think we can make it another three miles in this storm! The elevation profile says we keep climbing!" I yelled to Wocka.
She agreed, so we hurried to catch up with Giddyup, who had fortunately stopped to wait for us at a dirt logging road ahead. By that point we had only covered another two miles, but the rain was coming down harder and it was getting dark very quickly, even though it was only 6:30.
"I say we set up here," I suggested.
They agreed, and we struggled to get our tents set up as fast as we could in a clearing beside the road. The dirt was hard and unagreeable, so I had a tough time getting my stakes planted, which meant my tent was getting more and more drenched by the minute. Not to mention it hadn't fully dried out from last night, so I was already working with a damp canvas. I finally got everything set up and quickly dove inside, using a small towel to mop up water. I could see puddles forming beneath my tent, but so far my groundsheet was keeping it from soaking through. I heard Treekiller set up his tent next to mine, and shortly afterward Haggis, Running Commentary and the others joined us, pitching tents in what was now a downpour.

I lay in my sleeping bag looking up at my tent ceiling and listened to the rain pound on the fly. It lasted through the night and I had a fitful time sleeping, worried my tent would collapse around me. I couldn't remember the last time we had been caught in so strong a storm.

Day One Hundred Five

Today's miles: 15
Total miles: 2170

Tanner had to go to work this morning at 7, so we said a very early morning goodbye. It was harder this time, knowing that my last stretch of trail I would be walking farther away from him rather than closer and closer day by day. Treekiller said goodbye to Tanner, too, promising him, "don't worry, we'll look after Brambs for you."

Sunshine was in the kitchen, whipping up a breakfast of eggs, biscuits and sausage. Treekiller and I packed up our gear (I remembered to pack my waterproof pack cover this time) and after breakfast Sunshine drove us back to Cascade Locks to continue our journey. We stopped by the post office to pick up a care package for Sunshine and then popped by the hotel where Giddyup and Wocka were gearing up to leave, too. They struck out ahead of us while TK and I said our final goodbyes to Sunshine and watched him drive back to Portland. We would see him again in one week, and how much would happen in so short a time.

We walked across the street to the entrance of the Bridge of the Gods, the official crossing point into the state of Washington. There was a Native American food stand beside the river, where a group of local men and women were selling freshly caught salmon and fruit. One of the women, seeing us in our packs, ran across the street with her arms full of cherries and apples.
"For you!" she said. We gratefully accepted the fresh fruit, tucking it into our packs for later.

Treekiller and I went up to the toll booth of the bridge, and I dug through my pack for some loose change. The toll was $1 for cars and $0.50 for pedestrians. We were standing awkwardly in front of a few cars who were waiting to cross the bridge, and a few of them were getting impatient. When I found my money, I quickly stuck my hand out to the woman at the toll gate and she laughed jovially at me, waving her hand.
"No, sugar, you're free!"
"Oh, thanks!" I said in surprise.
"Of course!" she said. "You guys are something like celebrities around here!"
The car behind us honked impatiently, and we tried quickly to get out of the way, but the woman at the booth stuck her head out and yelled to the car with a roaring laugh,
"These guys walked here from Mexico! They can do whatever the hell they want!"
We laughed and started across the bridge.

The Bridge of the Gods had no pedestrian walkway, so Treekiller and I hugged the railing and tried not to look down at our feet, which walked over trestles wide enough that we could see straight down into the river far below. The wind was blowing strongly over the water as we walked, but it was an exciting crossing, for it marked our third and final state in this long journey of ours. We beamed happily at the Welcome to Washington and PCT signs on the opposite side of the bridge.

Cascade Locks marks the absolute lowest spot on the entire PCT at just 150 feet, and the end of 458 miles of gently rolling Oregon landscape. Washington promised to be much more difficult, with elevation changes more severe than what we had been walking. But by this time we were strong, we were confident, and most of all, we were egotistical. Nothing could tear down our hubris; we were going to kick Washington's ass. We covered all of Oregon in 18 full walking days, how could Washington be so much different?

How much we had to learn.

Our climb out of the lowest point on the PCT was to the tune of 3,500 feet in five miles. And we quickly learned that Washington had no time for switchbacks. The quickest way to the top of a mountain was straight up, and that's the way we went.

And it was hot. Hot and humid and a struggle. After ten miles Treekiller and I took a break and quietly ate our fruit, sitting at a campsite covered in lush, green trees. It was strange just the two of us, like we were missing limbs of our body without the rest of our friends close by. I felt strangely empty and sad, wondering if our trek through Washington was going to be a quiet and lonely walk to the end.

We continued on, wanting to get in as many miles as we could. We caught up with Wocka and Giddyup a short time later and climbed another mountain. We could see the Columbia River far below us as we left it behind. It was very overcast and seemed like it might rain, but the sky never broke.

We walked until 7:30 and found a small campsite at the top of another climb. We contemplated trying to go further to find a better spot, just in case it rained, but the maps showed a lot of downhill ridgewalking and we weren't confident we could find something before it got dark. So the four of us set up camp, our tents meshed closely together and in the open expanse of the hilltop. We ate the last of the cheesecake for dessert and went to bed shortly thereafter.

Day One Hundred Four

Today's miles: 0
Total miles: 2155

I woke up in the comfort of my own bed, something I have been craving for months now, and discovered that I didn't sleep very well without my sleeping bag and pad. Apparently real mattresses are too comfortable, now.

I went out into the living room and found Sunshine and Treekiller already awake. The three of us got ready and went on errands all morning, visiting REI, Home Depot, and the best hiker grocery store ever: WinCo. Treekiller and Sunshine had never been to a WinCo, and they were blown away by the bulk food section and the bargain prices. It was a hiker wonderland.
After stocking up with resupply (our next section would be a full seven days to White Pass, WA) we came home and made lunch.

We had learned a few days ago that Treekiller likes to make gourmet cheesecakes in his spare time (when he's not hiking 2,650 miles, that is) and so he brought home all the fixin's for a Key Lime Pie cheesecake. The dessert needed to chill in the fridge for a few hours, so while we waited we watched Star Trek.

Sunshine, since his feet were still bothering him, called a local pediatrist and I took him to the appointment later that afternoon. As we left the house, Treekiller was watching some Miley Cyrus movie on Netflix, and I pointed accusingly at him, saying,
"If this movie is still on when I get home, I'm taking away your man card!"
When I got back from dropping Sunshine off, Treekiller was watching The Expendables.
"Way to go to the complete opposite end of the spectrum," I laughed.
"Had to keep my man card intact," he insisted.

We hung out at home and after Tanner got home from work at 2:00, I went back to pick up Sunshine from the doctor's.
"What did he say?" I asked nervously. For an hour I had been contemplating hiking a trail that didn't include Sunshine on it, and I didn't like the thought.
"It wasn't as bad as I anticipated," he replied, "but it's still not great. He's a great doctor though; his whole office is covered in medals and certificates for marathons, Ironman's and triathlons that he has raced, so he understands my need to finish this hike. I guess the tendons and ligaments around my ankle are stretched, which is what makes them painful, and he thinks the trail running shoes I'm wearing contribute to it. So he told me to ice them daily, buy good, ankle-high hiking boots and good insoles, and take at least a week off the trail to let them heal."
"A week," I repeated, letting it sink in. "That's not so bad, right? And then you're coming back?"
"Yeah, so I've been talking to Honey Bunny on the phone," said Sunshine. "She's coming back from her wedding pretty soon and she wants to meet back up with us on trail. So I figured it'll take you guys a week to walk to White Pass, and by then, the two of us can meet you up there."
"That sounds like a good plan," I agreed.
When we got home Sunshine repeated the plan to Treekiller and Tanner, and both Tanner and I offered to let Sunshine stay at our house for the week while he recovered.
We ate TK's delicious cheesecake while we mulled over the news, watching TV and enjoying a lazy afternoon.

Being home made me reminisce back to my days in the Sierras, when Katie and I would tell stories about Portland to Sansei, Rotisserie and Papa Bear, promising to take them to all our favorite spots when we finally got to town. Back then Portland had seemed like a lifetime away, but now that we were here, our old friends seemed even further.
Missing them, I wrote Rotisserie a text message asking where they were. I had been trying to keep in touch with them over the weeks, but it seemed they had slowed their pace down and were always a few days behind us.
Rotisserie wrote back saying they were a good 100 miles behind, which was at least four days of walking. She and Sansei were taking a few days off in Eugene to visit Sansei's friends, and so they would likely fall even more behind with a few zero days in store. When I asked about Papa Bear, they said they hadn't seen him in a few weeks and guessed he was still a few days behind them.
"Are you going to Trail Days?" Sansei wrote me.
Trail Days was an event put on by the PCT in Cascade Locks every year with vendors, speakers, and movies to share with current and past thru-hikers. I had heard it was a social event, mostly beneficial for past thru-hikers to reconnect with old friends. The event was next weekend, which made it too far in the future for us to wait around in Cascade Locks for.
"Sorry, we'll be halfway to White Pass by then," I admitted.
"We're going to try to hitch up there for the event and then hitch back," Sansei said. "You should come!"
As great as it sounded to see Rotisserie and Sansei again, I couldn't justify taking a whole week off here when we were so close to the end. I realized, however, that with only 500 miles left to hike, there was a good chance that all our old friends wouldn't catch us by the border. Rotisserie, Sansei, Papa Bear, Focus, Dance Party, Games, Reason, etc were all still behind us.... the people we were hiking with now were the ones we'd stick with until the end, but it hurt my heart to think of never seeing my other friends again. It had always been a foregone conclusion that we would bump into them - after all, no one said goodbye on the PCT, we said see you up the trail! because inevitably, you reunite with old friends in the most unexpected of places. But with the trail so close to the end... who could promise that would happen anymore? It was heartbreaking.

At 7:00 Jason and Elizabeth came over with rum and cokes and we ate cheesecake and the six of us played a round of Cranium together before turning in for bed.
 

Day One Hundred Three

Today's miles: 17
Total miles: 2155

We were up at 6 and hiking toward Eagle Creek trail; Wocka and Giddyup got a head start while Sunshine, Treekiller and I followed. The first part of the trail dropped a crazy amount of elevation in a very short amount of time, and because it wasn't "officially" the PCT, there were no limits to how steep the trail could be. As such, I felt like I was half skidding, half falling down the mountain for a few miles and it was both exhausting and slightly frightening.

When the trail finally leveled out, we came upon Giddyup, who was sitting beside the trail writing on small pieces of paper. It was very unlike him to stop so early in the day, and even more unlike him to be writing. Curious, we asked what he was doing, and he hesitated a moment before saying, "something for Wocka. Don't tell her, okay? I want it to be a surprise."
We agreed, and hurried on along the trail. Wocka was waiting at the trail junction for Eagle Creek and looked a little confused as to why we were there before Giddyup.
"Where is he?" she asked.
Quick, think of something!
"Uh.... pooping," I said.
"We saw his pack next to the trail," Sunshine added quickly.
"We can wait for him at good snack spot," Treekiller suggested.
Wocka was reluctant to leave without Giddyup, but we finally talked her into it, and a little way down the trail we found a nice campsite and sat to eat second breakfast and wait for Giddyup.
But he didn't come.
The longer we waited, the more nervous Wocka became, and the more our "pooping" story started to break down. Since we walked, ate, slept and breathed in close proximity to each other every day, we knew a lot of things about each other that we shouldn't. For example, it was common knowledge that Giddyup was a fast pooper. As such, the longer it took him to catch up, the less convincing our story became.
Wocka was just about to go back for him, when suddenly he was there, looking embarrassed.
"Where were you?" she asked.
"I got lost," he said, which at first I thought was a thin excuse, but discovered later that he was actually telling the truth, and had gotten turned around at the last trail junction.
Secrets behind us, we continued along the beautiful Eagle Creek trail, and it was wonderful sharing one of my favorite hikes with friends who had never been on it before. At every turn there was a gorgeous waterfall or lush green foliage to admire. We oooohed and ahhhhed appreciatively as we walked and took photos.

Wocka Wocka, Giddyup, Treekiller, and Sunshine

Unfortunately, the closer we walked to civilization, the more crowded the trail became. I realized it was Labor Day weekend and in Oregon, people love taking dayhikes on their days off. I had never seen it quite this busy before, though. The narrow trail was packed with people in shorts and flip flops, women in blouses and heels, kids swimming in the river, dogs charging up the trail. It was chaos. And since we were the uncommon group with giant packs on, every few steps we were stopped by a dayhiker, asking us over and over, "did you overnight up there?" Eagle Creek was a popular weekend backpacking trip, and almost everyone assumed we had just gone out for a couple days. When we told them we had "overnighted" on trail since Mexico, their jaws dropped in shock.

Pretty soon we were getting so many questions that we were barely making any distance. We eventually resorted to lying, since it was easier. "Did you overnight up top?" was answered with, "yep!"
But every now and again someone asked about our journey, and at one point we ran into a man hiking with his wife and kids who was extremely excited to hear that we were on the PCT.
"I know about the PCT!" he said, "my daughter just got back from a section hike... she did the Mt. Hood area last weekend. She said she met a lot of amazing people and wants to do the whole thing next year. She was telling me about these people called trail angels who helped her out when she ran out of water..."
We agreed, and told him stories of all the amazing things trail angels have done for us in the past.
"I think that's awesome," he said. "I told her that if I got the chance, I would try to repay some hikers for the kindness that other people showed to her on trail." Light seemed to strike his eyes as he realized that we were hikers.
"Oh!" he cried, giddily. "I have a tent site just a little ways back... I have food! And snacks! Are you hungry? Do you need anything? I have Clif Bars!"
He looked so excited that we didn't have the heart to tell him that we were a little sick of Clif Bars by now, and that we were only 15 miles from town, so we would be eating real food pretty soon anyway. We started to turn him down politely, but he kept saying that it was no trouble, that he would love to give us something, and it was impossible to say no.
"Thank you, that would be wonderful," Giddyup said.
Our new friend yelled to his wife that he was going back to the campsite for just a moment, and then he took off down the trail so quickly that we had to jog to keep up with him. It was a further distance than he let on, and the whole way he was excitedly spouting off questions, asking about what tents we carried, what water filtration we used, what sleeping pads we liked best, what kind of food we ate.

When we got to his tentsite, he ran to his stuff and came back with a handful of Clif Bars, which the five of us doled out between us.
"Can I take any trash for you?" he asked, "do you need first aid gear? I have tape! And lots of other little things too!"
We laughed and promised him we were okay, and thanked him profusely for his kindness. We sat talking for a little while longer and then our new friend waved goodbye and sprinted back up the trail to rejoin his wife.

Wocka, Giddyup, Sunshine, Treekiller and I sat in camp for a while longer, having another snack and taking a break from the chaos.
Sunshine said, "so remember me telling you about that rap I've been working on?"
For the past few days he had been composing a song in his head, but though we had asked to hear it, he didn't want to sing it until he had the whole thing memorized.
"I think I've got it down, now. Want to hear it?"
"Yes!" we said.
And so he sat, and not knowing what to expect, this is what he rapped for us:

I'm out here 'cause my head is clear
And the sounds of nature are like music to my ears
Man, bitch, you've heard that before, so let's try again
Hit the rewind button, TK click! now let's begin!
Started 2013 our continuing mission
Traverse across the entire US nation
Our crew of determined souls headed south to north
Magnetized to realize this boldly mapped out course
Now, listen up, Spock 'cause my emotion is strong
For my friends out here unto which I belong
Like an H and an H, together with an O
Once we were individual; together now we flow
It's our bond that makes us stronger, to realize our wildest dreams
Like water destined to the sea, our boots just keep on moving, moving, moving
'Cause moving
Is a way of choosing
A life of proving
Our souls are booming
In an economy thriving
On the love of this bring
It's called investment banking
Now you know what I'm feeling?
When you look back
You'll know that
It was worth the fact
That you worked your ass
No matter if each week was hot, cold or wetter
You just took it day by day, and as a person you are better
Just got one more thing to say, and I know that you feel
And I want you to hear it, 'cause I know that it's real
Our friends and family, like water in the deep sea
And that's why I'm out here on the P-C-T!

We cheered and roared for him, completely blown away that he had been rolling this tune over and over in his head for the past few days. We took a video of him rapping so we could share it with the rest of our PCT family.

As we stood to keep hiking, Giddyup took off in front of us rather quickly. This was unsurprising, as he often lead the charge and liked hiking on his own rather than walking with a train of people behind him. But because of how many people were still on trail, we didn't catch up to him right away. Treekiller took off after Giddyup while Sunshine and I hung back with Wocka, lazily taking our time along the trail and stopping to talk to dayhikers we passed.

As the trail lowered slowly in elevation, we began crossing a series of bridges that spanned back and forth across the river. When we crossed the first one, Wocka discovered a small note placed carefully on the handrail that read To Wocka, and was held down by a small, heart-shaped rock.
Confused, she stopped to read it while Sunshine and I hovered nearby. I smiled because I knew this was the surprise that Giddyup had been working on this morning, and Sunshine did, too, because he began jumping up and down out of sight of Wocka and whispered to me in delighted glee, "It's happening!!"
"What does it say?" I asked.
"It's just... it's a love note, sort of," she said, perplexed. "I guess there are more of them?"
"Hmm... better keep walking, then!" I said.
At each bridge we passed, Wocka discovered a new note from Giddyup, each of them titled with her name and something special that he loved about their relationship, like Challenge, Balance, Friendship, Love.
And holding each note was another heart-shaped rock.

Wocka, so consumed by finding these notes, didn't notice that Giddyup was always just around the bend, leaving another note and quickly spiriting away. She didn't notice that Treekiller was just behind him, stopping to tell the dayhikers, please don't pick up the notes. She didn't notice that Sunshine and I were striking up conversations with everyone we passed so that we would have to stop to talk to them and let Giddyup get a little further ahead.
"Help me look for notes, Bramble," she said to me as we walked, and I agreed, though I was also keeping a close eye out for Treekiller and Giddyup.
We finally reached Punchbowl Falls, one of the most famous waterfall spots along the Eagle Creek trail. There was a small clearing beside the lookout, and when I came around the bend, Giddyup was sitting on a log by himself, looking expectantly up the trail.

Sunshine was hiding in the bushes off to the side, and Treekiller appeared to be corralling a large number of dayhikers to keep them from wandering into the clearing where Giddyup was.
Sunshine motioned to me, and I dove into the bushes beside him, watching happily as Wocka came around the corner and noticed Giddyup sitting by himself.
Sunshine was practically falling over with giddiness. He had to clamp a hand over his own mouth to keep from giggling aloud. He was clutching Giddyup's camera and kept running around in the bushes taking sneaky photos of Wocka and Giddyup while I laughed at his antics. We both watched excitedly from the trees as Giddyup took Wocka's hand, saying something quietly to her.
And then, after a moment, he kneeled and pulled out a ring.
Sunshine and I squealed almost as loud as Wocka, and when we heard her say, "of course!" we ran out of the bushes and cried, "YAAAAY!!"
Wocka and Giddyup were hugging and kissing, and Sunshine yelled to all the expectant dayhikers, "Can I get a round of applause? These two just got engaged!!"

There was a huge cheer from all the hikers, and then we swarmed them, giving hugs and pats on the back and delighted by today's turn of events.

"So how did he propose??" I asked Wocka when the commotion died down.
"I... don't even remember!" Wocka laughed. "I just couldn't believe what was going on! I do remember him telling me about the significance of the notes he wrote, and the heart-shaped rocks, and then he said, 'I have one more rock for you, and it means forever. And then he took out the ring."
"Awwww!" we cried.
"Wow, did you come up with that yourself?" Treekiller asked.
"I did, actually," said Giddyup, looking pleased with himself.
I noticed, then, that he had taken off his hiking shirt and was dressed, instead, in his black down jacket.
"Why are you wearing that?" I asked. "Aren't you hot??"
"Yes," he admitted, "but I didn't have a suit! And this is the cleanest, nicest thing I own right now."
The whole thing was so sweet.

Once the initial excitement was over, we were able to oooh and ahhh over Wocka's new ring, toast their engagement with small bottles of wine Giddyup had carried, and learned that he had picked out the ring in Bend and had been carrying it since then, waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question.
"And how long have you been carrying the heart-shaped rocks?" TK asked.
"I've been collecting them since Northern California," Giddyup admitted.
We were impressed by his dedication, especially since rocks are a heavy thing to carry as a thru-hiker.

We kept hiking down the trail, dancing and chatting happily about marriages and weddings and the rest of our hike. Giddyup said that though he and Wocka had been dating for three years, he initially wanted to wait until the end of their hike to propose. But eventually he decided he didn't want to wait that long, and joked that now "Wocka has 500 miles to decide if she still wants to marry me!" There was never any doubt, though. Any couple who can make it through the rigors, the emotional breakdowns, the challenges, the highs and the lows of the PCT together are destined to be together forever.

We walked the trail straight into the town of Cascade Locks and stopped in a small burger joint to eat lunch, where we met up with Sneaks, Mudd and Dingo, who had arrived earlier today. To our surprise, we learned that Mudd had proposed to Dingo just yesterday! And since Mudd and Giddyup had been best friends since they were in kindergarten, it seemed like the perfect conclusion to a perfect day.

I called my friend Elizabeth and she drove out to Cascade Locks to pick up Treekiller, Sunshine and I to bring us back to Portland to stay the night. Wocka and Giddyup decided they wanted to get a hotel room in town to celebrate their engagement with Mudd and Dingo. All of us were planning on taking a zero tomorrow, though, so we promised to meet up again in two days to begin our hike into Washington.

"So, Wocka," I joked as we bid them goodbye on our way to Portland, "what was your highlight for today?"