I had to wake up early if I was to make it in time for breakfast at the lodge. At 9 AM, there was a breakfast buffet at the Timberline Lodge and I pushed myself all week to try to make it. I had made friends with a French couple and they invited me. I know they probably did not care if I made it or not, but it gave me a goal to shoot for. That meant that I was up at 5:40 AM and on the trail by 6:20 AM. I was surprised by the fact that once again I was one of the last to leave by that time in the morning. I was only 5.2 miles from the Timberline Lodge, but it required consistent uphill hiking to get there. This was actually one of the steepest places on the whole trail so far and my feet were sore. The Achilles issue I had been struggling with was turning into a bigger problem. It hurt for at least an hour every morning and no amount of getting it loose was going to make it go away.
So I dealt with the pain and the sweat. I was surprised how warm it was even early in the morning. No wonder the glaciers were melting away. The trail was sandy in many places also and the easy 5.2 miles became a push just to make it to breakfast on time. I will be honest, going off trail to head down to the Lodge was harder than I thought it would be. Given my exhaustion level, anything extra felt unnecessary. Still, this was my goal and I was going to achieve it. The lodge was under construction, so I luckily found the right building. Breakfast was upstairs. When I arrived there, it was packed. Many times you hike the trail and wonder where the other PCT hikers are. I found them all here at breakfast. Since I had been moving so fast, the only people that I really knew though were the French couple. I was lucky that I knew them, too, because all the tables were taken. The server allowed me to go sit next to them and it helped him a ton as there were many people waiting for breakfast. There was so much food, I felt like gorging myself, but I refrained. A couple of plates were all I could stomach anyway and it was great to have some good conversation. This was probably the only time on the trail that I had told anyone anything personal about my life. Often times you hear about the lifelong friendships made on the PCT. I did not feel the same way. The people were in and out of my life so quick that there was not any time to build any lasting friendships. Even the French couple, I did not even know their names.
I paid my bill which unsurprisingly was probably the most expensive breakfast that I had ever purchased for myself. The French couple was going to spend most of the day just hanging out around the lodge. I, on the other hand, was trying to get enough miles in to finish the following day. They were a little bit jealous of me as they still had another 500 miles to go hiking through Washington. I wished them good luck and was on my way. It was Sunday, so the trail was busy. This was a popular spot for hiking for people from Portland, so I encountered many day hikers near the lodge. There were even some people riding the ski lift up to either ski or just hike around the high points of the mountain.
Mt. Hood was definitely impressive, but I honestly though it would be more snowy. There was a ridiculous amount of water and glacial till around, but not much snow. Because I was on the flanks of the mountain, it meant that the trail was nowhere near flat. Instead, it went up and down as I skirted the southern than western flanks of the mountain. It generally headed in a downward direction, but this was hard to realize when I was steeply climbing up and out of a glacial valley. As I got farther from the Timberline Lodge, the number of people began to dwindle, but it was still one of the busiest section of the trail. The views were incredible, but eventually they changed from open mountain slopes to forest after crossing the Zigzag River. The vegetation was pretty lush at this point and the trail was now switchbacking downhill pretty much relentlessly. Down and down I went and I saw the tired, sweaty faces of the people going uphill. I was glad that I was not going to have to go back up this hill that eventually led to the Sandy River. This was an issue as this river was quite full of water and there was no bridge for me to use to cross this river. Some people brought Chacos or Tevas for this exact purpose. Others went barefoot. Given my current foot issues, I could not risk it.
So I just found a good place to cross and did it with my shoes on. The crossing was not actually that rough even though there were a couple of people wandering around trying to find an easy way. After fording the section of river at Mt. Jefferson, the Sandy River was much easier. The problem was that I now had wet feet and I was going to have to deal with that the rest of the day. I spent some time eating lunch and letting my shoes dry. I tried using dirty and clean socks to soak up some moisture, but there was nothing I could do but just suck it up and hike with wet feet. This could be a problem, but for now, I was just going to put in the miles. Right after the Sandy River, the trail changed. It was hot and I was feeling the heat, but the trail took me to a junction.
I had the choice of staying on the PCT or taking a side trail to Ramona Falls. I was not going to avoid this opportunity and took the side trail. This was a popular spot to day hike too, so the clientele changed quite dramatically. There were all sorts of people on this trail and when I got to the waterfall, there was barely a place to sit without encountering another human. I filtered some water from the creek and then was off on my way. I choose to not go back to the PCT, but instead just take the trail down the creek. This proved to be a good choice as it was shady and very pleasant. When I got back to the trail, I encountered another PCT hiker who I chatted with. He criticized my choice roundaboutly. He said he was a red liner meaning that he allowed himself to go to other places on the trail, as long as he returned to the exact spot he left the trail. The rest of us were blue liners.
Having breakfast with the French couple, I was inspired by their perspective on the trail. They had skipped a couple of parts including a big section of the Sierras. They would not be heading back. They decided early on that their experience was hiking from Mexico to Canada and whatever section of trail that they missed was just going to be missed. I liked that perspective and the red liner perspective was much too serious for me. I had decided that my perspective on getting off trail was that I would only do it to see something exciting. I had been debating about whether to hike Eagle Creek the following day or stay on the PCT proper. This sort of confirmed for me that Eagle Creek it would be.
From here, the trail climbed again. This was thick forest and I had a new group of friends. Biting flies seemed to be all around. They hurt more than mosquitoes but bothered me less because I did not have to deal with all of the constant buzzing. I was moving pretty good at this point with my feet feeling alright. It never seemed to bother me too much to go uphill or downhill, just had to keep myself moving. When I reached the top of the hill and left the Timberline Trail, all of a sudden, the biting flies stopped. This made me happy, but mostly, now I was starting to get excited to be done. More forest lay ahead of me and it led me downhill to Lolo Pass. This was a place with a road and a campsite. It was unoccupied and it would have been so easy to stay there as it was in the evening and time to camp.
I had to continue on, though, as there was a place on the map called Salvation Spring which could be a good place to camp. I went uphill again until I ran into a spring. There was a couple filtering water there and we talked for a bit. They were continuing on also, but would camp in an hour or so. I was tired and I decided that when I found a good place to camp, that I would just do it. Now I had water and I was within close enough distance to make it to Cascade Locks the following day. So after another hour or so of walking, I found a flat place by the side of a dark spooky section of trail and set up camp. I was filthy and tired, but I need to camp. After dinner and a little reading, it was time to quickly try to sleep. It would be my last night out on the trail.
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