Dear Washington. Why do you hide the sun from thee?

We pondered this very question for nearly 500 miles of rain, sleet, snow, hail, slush, mud, etc, etc. I think there should be a classification system for when the trail turns into a waterway. When a puddle becomes a cascade, and when a cascade become an unabridged torrent. I think we hit class 5 rapids in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness and flood stage through the Indian Heaven Wilderness. But what do you expect, or rather I guess, what did we expect?

I’ve been through North Cascades National Park 3 times now and have yet to see a view. Granted all three times were in the fall so it came as no surprise that the start of our trip would be rainy, at best. We’ve accepted that our daily routine has been to establish a ‘quarantine pile’ of wet items in camp at night, and then begrudgingly slither into the clammy socks and rain gear during the pre-dawn mornings. Washington has blessed us with above freezing rain, so at least everything isn’t freezing each night, right?

Rain does interesting things to the body, let alone the moral. It seems to defy logic to essentially wearing a plastic bag over your entire body and then begin to add exertion. Now I know why so much fungus grows in Washington. Mushrooms on your feet aren’t great either. It has been a constant battle for both Trauma and I get go a day without some sort of foot ailment. Blisters, trench foot, rash, rub, pain, strain; it all feet the same. Bad.

It hasn’t all been bad though. To revisit familiar places is a measure in memory and obscurity. I constantly find myself saying ‘this isn’t quite how I remember it’ or the converse, ‘there’s an amazing view from here, if only we could see it’. One of the most rewarding elements thus far has been being around the trail culture and community, particularly the Trail Angels and trail towns. Everyone is friendly, understands what the PCT is all about, and willing to have a conversation with you. The antidote to Hiker Trash. This is in vast contrast to the remote and obscure trails we’ve been doing lately. Patty at the Stehekin Lodge offered to drive our resupply box up to High Bridge since the shuttle is no longer running, the Dinsmore’s well pump went out the day we arrived and found a neighbor to allow us to shower and do laundry, and Shrek in Cascade Locks opened his home up after a long season of PCT hikers coming through.

We find ourselves about a week ahead of schedule despite the constant battle with the weather. Everyday our routine is to wake up around 5am, hike for about an hour before the sun rises, cover ~10mi and then take a 15-20min snack break. Any longer of a break and it just gets too cold. We repeat this until dark and then usually hike for another mile or two before finding a camp for the night. It’s tough to get 30’s in when there is only 10hr of daylight, but we’ve been able to make it work. We know our hard work now will pay off later when the trail is covered in feet of snow and we are traveling at a fraction of our normal pace. As it stands now, our goal is to be in Ashland Oregon by Thanksgiving, and across the OR/CA border before December.

It has been a sigh of relief that we’re out of Washington and into Oregon before the snow gets too deep. The weather ahead looks to be transitioning into winter. The last few days have been cold and clear with a strong Arctic wind blowing the future of our trip into play. The forecasts are showing another wave of deeper snow along the higher ridges. This agrees with our pre-trip prediction of one large dump of snow before Thanksgiving and 2 more likely before Christmas. Seems like we’ll be transitioning onto our snowshoes more full time over the next few weeks. Too bad we mailed them ahead to the next town stop in Bend. So it goes.

Some pictures to better tell the story.