Day One Hundred Eighteen

Today's miles: 15
Total miles: 2417

It was still overcast when we woke up today, though the rain had let up a bit since the storm. Still, we were in no mood to go hiking after such a pleasant day off. We packed up slowly and returned the rest of Susan's goodies to bins so she could pick them up again from the hotel. Wocka and Giddyup, not to be distracted, took off hiking from the hotel early in the morning and said they would keep an eye out for us.

Rotisserie, Sansei, Katie, Treekiller, Sunshine, Vince, Alphabet Soup, Kudu and I dumped our ready-to-go packs in the hall and wandered next door for a pancake breakfast. We were still stalling, though no one would admit it. Eventually, with breakfast eaten and our packs ready, we had no choice but to strike out. It was already 12:30 by then.

The weather was still gross outside, foggy and misty and damp without being rainy. The trail climbed through some trees, which kept the drizzle out of our eyes. Every so often a large raindrop would plop on my head, so I rigged up my umbrella on my pack straps and had a pleasant hike after that - the umbrella was proving very useful.
This particular section of trail ran up to the Kendall Katwalk, which was a popular dayhike from Seattle. We saw a lot of hikers with small packs trooping past us in the opposite direction. One older woman, upon passing me, laughed,
"I've seen a lot of umbrellas on the trail today! That must be a new fashion, hm?"
Everyone she passed was most likely in my group, for we had all added umbrellas to our gear just recently.
I smiled at her in response. "They're very useful!"
There was something to be said for having your own mini-shelter on trail, especially with no way to dry yourself out if the weather turned foul.

As we climbed to higher elevations, we found ourselves enveloped by a white cloud of fog and rain. The trail left the forest and scaled some rock outcroppings, and soon we were on a narrow ledge of rock skirting its way through the sky. I imagined this was the famous "Kendall Katwalk" everyone talked so much about, but with the weather so thick, I couldn't see two feet in front of my face. Gloomily I wondered what the views were like, and I was annoyed the rain was keeping me from seeing them. I imagined beautiful mountains soaring into the sky just a short distance from where I was standing, but I could see nothing but rock and fog and rain. I picked my way over rocky terrain, shivering uneasily every time I stepped over a large boulder lying in the trail.
How long had that been there? Did it just fall? The whole, steep mountainside was made of rock and how easy would it be to fall onto the trail?

I stopped briefly on the catwalk with Sunshine to dig a few snacks out of my pack before it began raining harder. I wanted to keep my pack as dry as possible in case the weather didn't let up. After the experience before Trout Lake, I was prepared for what two straight days of weather would be like. Fortunately, this go around I had a pack cover, an umbrella, and waterproof pants, which were already proving to make me feel more dry and comfortable. They were also much warmer, which today was a plus because the wind was biting and cold.

We walked silently through the rain, finally finding a spot later in the day that was somewhat shielded by rocks. We huddled below it, sitting beneath our umbrellas as we looked out over the cliff and into the white.
"What do you think we're supposed to be looking at, here?" Sunshine mused, as we stared into the abyss.
Silently I wondered how long this ridgewalking would continue. On a nice day it would be wonderful, but on a day like today, I wanted to be safely back in the trees as soon as possible.

As the afternoon wore on, it grew wetter and colder and rockier. The ledge of trail skirted its way around the mountain cliffs, at time growing so narrow and steep that it dropped away on both sides of me. Though I couldn't see how far the fall was, the blanket of white that the sky disappeared into was scary enough. I clutched my umbrella and hurried as quickly as I could through the rocky trail. I didn't like the terrain at all. It matched the terrifying heights of Goat Rocks, but without the stunning reward. As the sky grew darker as evening approached, my heart hammered faster and faster. I began falling behind everyone else, slowly picking my way along the trail so I wouldn't trip. Pretty soon I was the last one in line, trailing behind Sunshine.
Nerves kept my movements sharp and brittle, and to calm myself I started singing aloud.

A series of shots Sunshine took of our views today

The trail eventually began to switchback a little lower in elevation, and I took the turns carefully. The wind and rain was raging by this point, and I had to keep adjusting my body so that my umbrella didn't catch the wind the wrong way and flip inside out. It was a frustrating struggle, being battered by the weather as the sky grew darker. I grumbled and swore to myself as I stumbled along trail.
What if we can't find a campsite? What if this ridgeline never ends?
We were forced to keep walking because we had no other choice.
Then, I heard a noise that wasn't rain or wind. It sounded almost like a waterfall crashing on rocks, but the sound was too sharp. Intuition froze me in place, and I quickly pulled back my rain jacket hood so that I could better hear the noise. It was louder, now. Cracking, like icebergs calving.
I suddenly knew exactly what the noise was.
"Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Rockslide!"
I couldn't see it, yet, but I knew by the sound that it was directly above me.
A lot of things happened in my mind at once. I remember quickly surveying the trail I was on, trying to find a safe space, and realizing that since I had been taking switchbacks, there was no safe space.
 The trail went directly up the mountain and directly down it, in the path of the impending rock slide. The second thing I remembered thinking was, I should yell for someone, but I knew Sunshine would never hear me with the wind howling like it was. And the third thing I thought: why don't hikers wear helmets?

Time seemed to slow down. I rushed backward on the trail a few feet, attempting to move further away from the noise. I kept my eyes trained upward toward the top of the rocky mountain, which suddenly seemed to be towering above me. The rocks were still coming. I could hear them, gathering speed in the distance. Another sudden thought filled my head: I'll have to dodge them.
But what if I couldn't?
An asinine thought struck me, remembering all the times Treekiller and Sunshine had thrown rocks off a cliff, laughing as they gathered speed down the mountain.
I could see them, now, jumping over the cliff like toy balls, directly above me. There were a lot of them, most about the size of my head, I guessed. The rocks were coming with enough distance that I could see their path, and I hoped to use that to my advantage.
Another stupid thought: this will be like Frogger. Avoid the rocks. Don't lose a life.

I dashed back and forth along my narrow stretch of trail, avoiding the first flying bits. As the bigger ones crashed down, they hit the mountainside, split apart, and went whizzing in opposite directions. This made tracking them very difficult. A couple times I dodged to one side only to have the rock break apart and fly in that direction, too. A couple of them shot so closely past my face that I could feel the impact of air against my cheek. They were moving fast.
They had been gathering speed the whole way down. I knew getting hit by one would easily knock me out, or throw me off the cliff.

I barely had time to be frightened. I was running back and forth, jumping and dodging and ducking under each flying rock as it tumbled down the mountainside. It seemed to last hours, though I knew in retrospect that I had been very lucky, that it had been a relatively small rockslide, and that it hadn't lasted very long.

I can still hear the sound in my head, that hollow cracking noise of rocks striking rocks and the echo being swallowed up by the abyss. When the last of them went whizzing past me and the silence flooded in, I quickly patted myself down.
Am I okay? Am I okay?
When it was apparent I had sustained no injuries, the tense adrenaline rushed out of my body, and I began shaking violently from head to toe. I was breaking apart, like rocks, and I didn't want to be alone.
I began running down the trail, headless of my footing or the slick rocks. I began shouting through the fog and rain like a child: "Sunshine! Sunshine!"
At first, I heard nothing. I didn't know how far he was ahead of me, but I knew I had to catch him. There was no way I could finish this hike alone.
"Sunshine! Sunshine!"
And then, faintly, "Brambles?"
"Wait!" I choked out, "wait for me!"
I turned a corner and saw his silhouette along the ridge, looking back at me with a curious expression.

"Did you hear it?" I gasped when I reached him. "The rockslide?"
"Rockslide?" his eyes grew round. "No, there was a rockslide below you?"
"No - no - above me - it came down from the top of the mountain - I was on those switchbacks - I didn't have anywhere to go - I had to dodge them -"
Sunshine pieced together my cobbled story and stared at me, shaking with cold and rain and fear in front of him.
"Oh wow, that really freaked you out, didn't it?" he asked sympathetically.
Suddenly I felt silly, like I should be braver. "Yeah - yeah, sort of."
"Here, you need a hug." Sunshine gave me a strong embrace and said, "come on, let's make it quick to camp."

We hurried again down the trail, and this time I kept closely on Sunshine's heels. We talked as we walked, which helped calm my nerves. As we turned another corner, we saw Katie ahead in the distance, paused for a moment. When we caught her, she lit up and said,
"Hey guys, you missed it! I just saw the cutest rock pika! He was sitting on trail, and right when I came up -"
"Brambles almost died in a rockslide!" Sunshine interrupted suddenly.
"Wha.. wait, what?"
Sunshine quickly ran through the story, and Katie looked just as surprised.
"I didn't even hear it," she said. "I thought I heard a whistle, though. Did you blow your whistle?"
I shook my head. That would have been a good idea. But the problem with whistles in rocky areas was that they sounded a lot like marmots. We heard marmots whistling so often that if someone truly was in trouble, it would have been difficult to discern.

The three of us kept hiking, the trail descending lower and lower, the sky growing darker and darker. Katie got ahead of us and disappeared, though I worked hard to keep Sunshine in sight. We finally had to pull out headlamps to see our way along the trail. Finally we descended off the rocky catwalk - fifteen miles since leaving Snoqualmie. I thought my muscles would collapse under me from exhaustion. We saw headlamps ahead, and stumbled into a large campground where a lot of hikers had already set up their tents and were hiding inside from the rain - Rotisserie, Sansei, Vince, Treekiller, Katie, Lighthouse, TwoBadDogs, Toots and Tears. We couldn't see anyone, but we heard their voices floating out from inside their tents.
"Are Wocka and Giddyup here?" I asked, quickly scanning the tents in the dark.
"No," said Sansei. "We think they went a few miles further."
(Actually, they were camped not 1/4 mile past us, but we didn't know it yet.)
Sunshine and I quickly dumped our stuff on the ground so we could set up camp before our tents got too wet. I picked a flat spot beside Treekiller, and called to him,
"Treekiller, I almost died."
"What?!"
"Brambles got caught in a rockslide!" Sunshine said.
As I related the story, I could hear the other hikers calling out from tents, trying to hear the whole of it over the rain.
"Bramble, you got caught in a rockslide?" I heard TwoBadDogs - Art and Lynn - call.
"Are you okay?" Lighthouse asked.
"Oh my goodness, how horrible," Tears said.
There were gasps of horror and relief as I finished my tale, and it was almost comical to hear these reactions without being able to see their faces.

It was a relief to crawl into my sleeping bag that night, letting the warmth surround me. For such a short mileage day, it had felt like a million years since we left Snoqualmie. I listened to the rain pounding on my tent roof and hoped, more than anything, the sun would come out tomorrow.
"My highlight tonight is that Brambles didn't die!" I heard Sunshine call out from his tent, and I laughed in response,
"Funny, that's mine, too!"

Day One Hundred Seventeen

Today's miles: 0
Total miles: 2402

Though we were excited about our day off in Snoqualmie and had every intention of sleeping in, we couldn't sleep past 8:00. Our bodies were too conditioned to being on the trail by 7:30. It didn't stop us, however, from lounging lazily in our rooms all morning watching HBO movies, listening to the rain pounding outside and glad that we weren't out hiking in it.

Treekiller, Sunshine and Vince had the room right behind Katie and me, and every so often they would pound on the wall to say hello or emphasize a point in whatever movie we were watching in synchronization.
Pretty soon Wocka and Giddyup showed up in our room, followed by Rotisserie and Sansei, and all of them upon entering cried, "hey, we were watching that, too!"
When Treekiller, Sunshine and Vince joined us, we sat on the beds eating bags of candy and leftover pulled pork and watching the hours click by with no schedule.

Susan, before leaving last night, had offered to give us a ride into town today if we needed to resupply at REI (a few of us were wanting umbrellas for this last stretch) and to take us out to dinner tonight. I also had two more friends who lived nearby - Kathy and Wes - and I was looking forward to seeing them today, too.

While we passed the time watching movies and starting loads of laundry, there was a knock on our door and Mudd and Dingo appeared in our room, followed by none other than Games and Reason! They had just gotten to the Snoqualmie and were looking forward to a day off, too. Games and Reason had been a day behind us for so long that I hadn't seen them since central California! We welcomed everyone to our party and our trail magic, but before they sat, Dingo froze and scanned us over with a suspicious eye.
"Wait..." she said, "why do you all look different?"
"We took showers?" Giddyup suggested.
"No... you look...normal..." she said, mystified, and then cried out in realization, "I know! You're wearing COTTON!"
We laughed. "Oh, right! We have loaner clothes! Care for some?"

Shortly thereafter, Toots and Tears appeared in our room and said they were going down to the hot tub, and would anyone care to join? We now had a whole bucket of swim suits Susan had brought us, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to put them to use. The hot tub was huge and wonderful, with big windows that looked out onto the soggy landscape. We soaked until our muscles turned to jelly, and then promptly returned to our rooms where we watched yet another HBO movie.

Left to right and front to back (sort of): Tears for Beers, Toots Magoots, Fun Size (in red hat), Honey Bunny, Lighthouse (with beer), Dingo, Mudd, Vince, Giddyup, Wocka Wocka, Sunshine

At 2:00 my friend Kathy came by and offered a ride into town. She had four seats and said that Susan was coming by in another hour to pick up another four people. Katie, Treekiller, Sansei and I rode with Kathy to Issaquah where we stopped by REI to buy some odds and ends and I met up with my old friend Wes, who was waiting for us. We browsed and talked until Susan showed up with Sunshine, Rotisserie and Vince in her car, and then went out for frozen yogurt before dinner. (Life's short, eat dessert first, right?)

We went to dinner at a lovely Italian place called Tutta Bella, the ten of us sitting at a large table that was soon full of conversation. I caught up with Wes, whom I hadn't seen in several years, while Cathy and Susan delightfully soaked in all the PCT stories the rest of us were telling. It was a fun, noisy, adventure-story-filled night, and everyone was enjoying themselves. In fact, I was so engrossed in conversation with my half of the table that I didn't notice Susan taking the check until I heard Wes say, "wait... wait... what's Susan doing?"
I turned in time to see her pulling out her credit card, and I yelled, "no!"
"We tried already," Rotisserie said ruefully. "She won't let us pay."
"You've done so much already!" I said, completely shocked. "You do not have to pay for dinner!"
But Susan wouldn't hear of it, and despite our adamant arguments, she passed the check back to the waiter with calm civility. We thanked her profusely, then, for she had given us so much already that this further generosity was staggering.

Left to right: Sansei, Rotisserie, Honey Bunny, Treekiller, Sunshine, Wes, Bramble, Susan, Kathy, Vince

We returned to the hotel around 9:00pm, smiling and laughing with each other and giving hugs to Kathy, Susan and Wes before they left. It was a wonderful night.

As we walked back to our rooms, we noticed crumpled notes taped to our doorways. Treekiller's room had a sign that read "PCT North ---->;" and while we were laughing about that one, I noticed the sign on my door, which read:
"Water in 300 ft. Flowing 2 liters/min. Just walk through door and turn on faucet." And then a small note scribbled in at the bottom: "watch out for wasps!"
We couldn't stop laughing. This was clearly the handiwork of Toots and Tears.

The rest of the evening was spent with more HBO movies. Sunshine, Vince and Treekiller hung out in our room until late into the night, watching the cinematic masterpiece "The Day After Tomorrow." (Kidding. Worst movie ever.)

I remember thinking as I fell asleep that this might very well be our last day off for some time, and I was right. Now, looking back, those hiking days between White Pass and Snoqualmie were some of my favorites on trail. The weather was beautiful, my friends were close, and we had no care in the world but spending time with each other before the end. In the weeks to come, time would seem to speed up, to move by with such a whirlwind of emotion and stress and desperation that we would forget about these simple moments, these moments spent in each other's company, reminiscing about our journey and trying to forget that it was almost over. Looking back, those moments seem so dear, for soon everything would change, and there would be no time for remembering days gone by. Our long, life-changing journey was coming to a close, and this was truly the beginning of the end.

But all that was to come, and for now, life was calm and perfect. And as I fell asleep I dreamed perfect dreams of pressing my hand to that northern monument.

Day One Hundred Sixteen

Today's miles: 23
Total miles: 2402

I slept remarkably cozy last night. Generally cowboy camping means I wake up at least once a little chilled, but the temperature was perfect all night and I slept very deeply.

Despite my wonderful night of sleep, today's hiking was very motivationally rough. This was the start of my twelfth day and my 224th mile since my last true day off, and my body was exhausted. I was looking forward to reaching Snoqualmie Pass today, for it meant a night in town, and possibly two. Unfortunately, we still had 23 miles to get there and it was doubtful we would arrive until late. We had also been checking the weather as we got cell service, and today's forecast said it was supposed to be raining by 11:00am. After so many days of nice (albeit hot) weather, no one was looking forward to another deluge.

I plodded through the first few miles, mentally and physically drained of all energy. So much had happened in the last eleven days: torrential rain, wonderful trail magic, difficult river fords, hot and humid weather, awful climbs, reunited friends, stunning views, terrifying heights, wonderful companionship, and lasting memories. And now I looked forward to the last part of my journey, for after Snoqualmie we only had 250 miles to the border, and it would bring us deep into the heart of the Northern Cascades, a section renowned for its staggering beauty and treacherous terrain.

As I walked I wondered if the trail magic Wocka and Giddyup had received last night would still be there today. It was only five miles past where we had camped, which meant Wocka and Giddyup would be two hours ahead of us getting into town. As I reached the five mile mark, I stumbled onto a dirt road and saw a large tarp strung over a parking area and a bunch of PCT bandanas hung like Nepalese prayer flags over the trail. Trail magic was still here!

I burst onto the road and saw several things all at once: there were two trail angels cooking breakfast on a grill, several coolers and tables full of food, a few chairs strewn under the tarp, and Wocka and Giddyup sitting in them!
"What are you doing here?!" I laughed, checking my watch. It was already 9:30am. "Have you been here all night?!"
"Er.... we may have just woken up," Wocka admitted shamefully. This was shocking, since she and Giddyup were renowned for waking up at the crack of dawn and hiking before most people were awake. The fact that they had camped here last night and were still here after we had hiked two hours to reach them was hilarious.
"We may have gotten really drunk and passed out at... um... 2:00am," she admitted.
"We?" It was then that I noticed Alphabet Soup, Kudu, Toots and Tears emerging from the tarp, still looking groggy and slightly hungover.
"That was one hell of a night," Tears said.

As Katie, Treekiller, Sunshine, Vince, Rotisserie and Sansei reached the road, we gave each other hugs and hellos and plopped down in the chairs for a break. Our two trail angels, former thru-hikers named Stumbling Norwegian and Red, were in the process of whipping up eggs and bacon for breakfast, and passed out a box of donuts in the meantime. It was food heaven. We ate and chatted with each other while discussing our plans for Snoqualmie. It was only eighteen miles away, but we still had a few climbs and imminent weather to consider.

It was then that I noticed Wocka and Giddyup's packs looked smaller than usual, and I pointed this out, asking, "what happened to your stuff?"
"Oh!" said Wocka. "Stumbling Norwegian said he'd slack pack us into town!"
"Really?!" All of us were intrigued by this offer, and decided to take him up on it. A few months ago I would have thought myself crazy to give all my worldly possessions to a perfect stranger, taking it on blind faith that he would return them to me, but the trail had taught me of the generosity of strangers and I had learned to be more trusting of simple acts of kindness. Plus, as a former thru-hiker, Stumbling Norwegian was an instant friend and fellow PCTer, and that was all we needed to know.

Left to right: Honey Bunny, Bramble, Stumbling Norwegian, Treekiller, Vince, Sunshine

After enjoying breakfast, unloading our gear on Stumbling Norwegian and thanking him and Red for their kindness, we set off onto the trail. We would meet him again in town at a local hostel, where he would leave our stuff for pickup.

It was delightful walking on trail without the burdens of heavy gear. My pack was nearly empty, carrying just water, food, extra clothing layers and a few other essentials. The difficult climbs felt so much easier and my exhaustion from this morning seemed to have been lifted. Now we were racing against time and weather.

Vince, Katie, Sunshine and I took a break around eleven at another road crossing with Toots and Tears. Wocka, Giddyup, Rotisserie, Sansei and Treekiller were all flying faster than we were, worried about getting caught in the storm. It hadn't started raining yet, and the sky was deceptively blue and perfect. The weather report changed its forecast to a 12:00 rainstorm, then 1:00, then 2:00, but still no rain fell. We climbed and climbed and I kept a weathered eye on the horizon, searching for signs of trouble. The air was thick and smelled of humidity, but otherwise the weather seemed perfect. I was hoping it would hold out until we reached town.

Vince, Katie, Sunshine and I took a lunch break at the top of a climb near a beautiful lake, looking out at the valley below. A slow, curling fog was rising up far below us, blanketing the valley in white. Amusingly I wondered if that was the rainstorm, and if it would simply hover below us all day while we walked above the clouds. We could see it slowly curling upwards, though, and no one wanted to get caught in it. We hurried onward.

I felt as though I was trying out outrun a force of nature; I danced down the trail, weaving in and out of trees and along forested ridgelines that were quite beautiful. Slowly the fog creeped behind me, and by 3:00, it had thoroughly enveloped me in a cloud of white. It wasn't raining, but the fog was heavy, cold and damp and I still felt as though my clothes were growing slowly soggier.

I dug my umbrella out of my pack and held it above me as I raced down trail, but it only sprinkled on me from time to time. I kept checking my mileage and distance on my phone, though it was running desperately low on batteries by now. My friend Susan who lived in Seattle had said she would meet us at the pass with trail magic, and I was hoping to see her before it got too late.

The final few miles popped Katie, Toots, Tears, Vince and I out on a ski slope, and instead of following the meandering PCT to the highway, we cut straight down the slope and to the pass. Wocka, Giddyup, Rotisserie, Sansei and Treekiller were already there enjoying chocolate milk and some food from a food cart parked in front of a ski hotel on the highway. We joined them and waited for Sunshine, who had fallen behind a few hours before.
While we waited, my friend Susan arrived with a carload of goodies. I gave her a hug and introduced her to my friends and we sat and talked for a bit before she said,
"We should check into the hotel so I can get all this stuff out of my car."
I was mystified as to what she had brought: when she asked me what thru-hikers liked for trail magic, I told her "cheap beer and gatorade" was usually enough to make us happy. I never expected anything more than that.
Instead, Susan blew me away with the greatest trail magic yet this journey: she had booked two nights and four rooms for myself and Wocka, Giddyup, Rotisserie, Sansei, Katie, Treekiller, Sunshine and Vince to stay the night. She brought two huge coolers, one filled with a variety of beers and the other with chocolate and strawberry milk cartons and small gatorades. She brought plates full of homemade food and snacks: brownies, rice crispy treats, pie, cookies, chips, a whole bag of fresh fruit, goldfish crackers, and two huge bags of Halloween candy. She brought a crock pot full of pulled pork she had been cooking all day, and hamburger buns to go with it. She brought paper plates, forks, knifes, and napkins. She brought swimming suits so we could go in the hot tub. She brought a whole bin of cotton sweaters, pants, and t-shirts so that we could wear something while we did laundry. She brought laundry detergent, fabric softeners, and a bag of quarters to put in the laundry machine. She brought accessories for the shower: shampoos, conditioners, razors, and shaving cream. She pulled so much out of her car that I was in shock at how she had fit it all in there. I helped her load it into Katie and my room and sat in speechless wonderment at a room full of the most perfect, thru-hiking tailored magic I had ever seen.
"How did you do this?!" I gasped, nearly crying. "You thought of everything!"
And she had. It was amazing. I told her to bring gatorade and beer and she showed up with every thru-hiker's deepest desires and needs on trail. I couldn't believe her generosity and the amazing amount of planning she put into this.
"I've been wanting to do something like this for a long time!" Susan said. "I'm just so glad I know someone on trail this year!"
I gave her a huge hug, thanked her, and ran out to find the rest of my friends. They were never going to believe this.
"Wocka! Giddyup!" I found them sitting in the hotel lobby, trying to figure out what our plans were for the evening.
"Oh, Bramble!" Wocka said. "Did I hear you mention that your friend was buying us a hotel room? That can't be right, can it?"
I was practically jumping up and down and could barely put two words together.
"She did! She did! She bought us four rooms for two nights!"
"Oh!" they were speechless for a second. "Oh, thank you!"
"Don't thank me!" I laughed, "Susan did this all on her own; it's amazing! She also brought us food! And clothes! And drinks! And quarters for laundry!" I breathlessly ran through the list of magical items, and by the end of it, Wocka and Giddyup were both staring at me with eyes wide, mouths slack-jawed.
Slowly, Giddyup stood up and gave me a tight hug. "Thank you for having friends!" he cried.
I laughed and gave them their room key. "Come see! Come see!"

The others soon filtered into their rooms, and Sunshine finally arrived at the hotel just as the sky opened up and the storm that had been threatening all day pounded down on the rooftops. Worn and weary, he struggled over to our room and took one look at the beds full of food and goodies, all of us grinning at him like maniacs.
"Oh my GOD!" he shrieked, and his reaction was the best of all.

Now that we were all safe inside, we took showers and changed into Susan's loaner clothes and then she drove Katie, Sansei and me to the hostel to pick up everyone's gear. We got a little lost and it turned out the hostel owner wasn't very happy about having a bunch of our gear lying around her garage, but we bought her wine and chocolates and it turned out okay in the end. It was good having the rest of my gear back. Without it, I felt lost, like one of my limbs was missing. These few pieces of gear were my entire world, and being separated from them made me feel ill at ease.

Back at the hotel, all nine of us were running up and down the hallways, jumping from room to room - Wocka and Giddyup's to Sansei and Rotisserie's to Treekiller, Sunshine and Vince's, and ultimately landing in mine and Katie's, where all the goodies were. We bounced on the beds, made ourselves platefuls of pulled pork and rice crispy treats, and sat talking with Susan. She soaked up tales of PCT life and fairly glowed every time we thanked her profusely for such wonderful trail magic. It was exactly what we needed after such an exhausting stretch of trail. We were all looking forward to a zero in town, since we knew it would probably be our last before we hit the border. And we were tired of the long days we were pulling lately.

"Who here votes we hike less than 25 miles a day??" I called out, and every hand in the room shot into the air. Washington miles were proving rougher than normal miles, and this last section had truly knocked us back a few notches. We knew it would get harder from here on out, and we wanted to take it slow, enjoy the miles, and cherish the memories.

Day One Hundred Fifteen

Today's miles: 24
Total miles: 2379

I woke up warm and cozy on the front porch of the Urich cabin, packed in closely with Vince, Sunshine and Katie. We lay watching the sunrise for a while and finally struggled to sit up and get ready for the day. It was a common game of ours when cowboy camping to try and pack everything up without standing. Usually we had our stuff strategically scattered around us within grabbing distance so that we didn't have to struggle to our feet until the very last second.

Sunshine had his stuff cleared off his Tyvek ground tarp pretty quickly, but instead of packing it up, he began giggling and cried, "Look! My new Tyvek is so slippery I can breakdance!"
He lifted up his legs and began to spin wildly in circles on his butt, making us all laugh.
As I stood to leave the porch to gather the rest of my gear, Treekiller said, "Brambs wins the First to Stand Up Award!"
"I guess that means Sunshine wins the First to Breakdance Award!" I laughed in response.

Katie, Sunshine, Treekiller, Vince, Rotisserie, Sansei and I were on trail by 7:30 and soon sweating beneath a hot and humid sun. We crossed several logging roads throughout the day, which meant there were large patches of cleared trees that allowed for no shade on trail. I couldn't believe how warm it was - didn't everyone say it was going to be cold and rainy in Washington? The sun I didn't mind, but the humidity was stifling, and I worried that it meant rain was coming.

We suffered up a few difficult climbs and topped out of one just at lunchtime. I was so exhausted I didn't want to look for a "nice" place to eat lunch, so I plopped down right on trail and everyone soon joined, the boys having stripped their shirts off hours ago and all of us drenched in sweat. It was relieving to stop for a while and let the small breeze cool us off while we ate.

"I have cell service today, so I've been talking to Watson," Sunshine informed us. "He's going to meet us later today at one of the roads we cross and bring us some trail magic!"
Watson was an old thru-hiking friend of ours; he had gotten on trail in central California and spent two months hiking north - I hiked with him for a while in Northern California - and he left trail after arriving in Ashland. He lived in Seattle, now, and was close enough to the trail that he wanted to visit us.
"He's six miles from here," Sunshine said.
We had walked eleven miles already but we weren't making our usual good time. Today's terrain was more challenging, and we were all walking slower. There were also few water sources to be found today, and we were draining our reserves very quickly.

The trail wandered downhill for a while, leaving the burned and exposed ridgelines and dropping into a lush, green forest. I was almost out of water and was keeping an eye out for the next source, but even so, I almost missed the turn off. I saw Rotisserie's pack lying beside the trail, and then noticed a note that another hiker had left beneath a rock, tagged with a piece of blue duct tape to make it more visible.
It read: There is a good water source 0.4 miles to the left. Follow the trail through the trees until you hear running water. If you walk upstream there is a small waterfall where you can easily collect water. Flowing well at 2 liter/min.

Notes like these on trail were common. The hikers who have gone before us did their best to make our lives easier, and in turn, we did the same for hikers behind us. We left detailed descriptions of a variety of helpful information: flow rate and clarity of potential water sources, obstacles on trail (like the many wasps nests we had run into), lines drawn in the dirt to guide us on the right path, or notes to point out which way the PCT ran upon reaching a confusing trail junction. Often I have been saved a time-wasting walk off trail because someone left a note saying, water source muddy and not flowing. Better water is 1.5 miles further up trail.

Or when I wasn't sure which path to take, I would find a note that read, PCT North --->
The notes left behind were always extremely accurate (if they were wrong, someone else would have corrected them) and we had all learned to trust them in our journey.

By the time we walked the six miles to the logging road, it was 4:00pm. Watson was waiting for us with a cooler of beers and some fresh salmon. It was good to reunite with an old friend, and for an hour and a half we sat and talked with him, enjoying the company. We asked Watson if he had seen Wocka and Giddyup, but he hadn't, which meant they had passed through here a few hours prior. Realizing I had cell service, I texted Wocka asking where she was, and she responded,
"We found great trail magic! I think we're about ten miles ahead of you."
I told her we had found great trail magic, too, and she was sorry to have missed Watson.

By the time 5:30 rolled around, we were still sitting with Watson and had only gone seventeen and a half miles. We knew we had to cover at least six or seven more in order to make it to Snoqualmie Pass tomorrow. Unfortunately, there were more hills to climb, and I was growing more exhausted by the minute. I lagged behind the group, my feet dragging up the hills, seriously contemplating stopping early. I watched a beautiful sunset from on top a ridge, and then descended into trees again, where darkness set very quickly. I was stumbling over roots and rocks, trying desperately to catch up to Treekiller. I had accidentally buried my headlamp at the bottom of my pack this morning, and I knew I would never be able to find it now. I hated hiking by myself in the darkness.

Hours passed, and finally I bumped into Treekiller, Katie and Vince filling up water at another water source. Vince, Rotisserie, Sansei and Katie moved on to find somewhere to camp, and I bumbled around in the darkness near Treekiller, trying to fill up my water bladders without a light. I was exhausted and irritated, though Treekiller was being very patient with me. I finally sighed and sat down in the dirt, saying, "I'm sorry for being grumpy. I'm just very tired. I don't like hiking this late."
"It's okay," he said, "I don't like it, either."
One thing about being on trail is that emotions are difficult to hide. Everyone carries their greatest joys and deepest frustrations on their sleeves, and so we get to know our friends at their highest and their lowest points. In a way, this creates a very strong bond between ourselves and our friends; we see each other for who we truly are: no more, no less. There are no societal walls to hide behind, no facades to put up, no "proper" way to act. We don't have to smile when we're feeling low, pretend to laugh when our feet hurt, or act like someone we're not for the sake of appearances. The trail is harsh, the trail is real, and it brings out the best and worst in everybody. Joys are greater, sorrows are deeper, frustrations are more volatile. Emotions bubble to the surface where they are shared, and embraced, and then they are let go. The trail doesn't care if you're the CEO of a powerful company. It doesn't care if you have been living on pocket change for years. It doesn't care if you're a world-class athlete or on your first backpacking trip. The trail strips every person down to his core, taking away layers of masks and walls we have built, and leaves you raw and new, re-discovering yourself. You learn to listen to your body, to listen to your emotions, to become more in touch with how you interact with the world, and how it interacts with you. You begin to realize that you're not the most powerful thing in this universe, that Mother Nature will always be stronger. We arrived in Washington with our heads held high and our egos beaming, and the trail knocked us down again, made us humble, in more ways than one. After 2200 miles we still had so much to learn.
It is out here that we can be truly honest, we can become the greatest versions of ourselves, but we have to let ourselves be stripped to our barest emotions first, to show others the best and worst of us. And it is then that we realize that we are accepted for who we truly are.

We waited for Sunshine to catch up and then discovered we didn't have to walk much further to reach the others. They had found an abandoned road just off trail that was flat enough to accommodate some sleeping bags. We rolled out our ground tarps in a long line and cowboy camped side by side like rows of sardines in a can. It was a calm, silent night, and I lay looking up at the stars, watching the Milky Way hover in a great white sheet above me, until I felt myself slipping softly into darkness.