PCT Day 19: Bull Run to Cascade Locks

I got to admit, upon waking, I did not feel good. My sleep had been poor. I felt that I was awake part of the night and I was always aware of my location. I was uncomfortable and a little bit burned out. Still, I was up at first light and moving before 6 AM. Even moving was painful, though. My feet had been so abused from the day before that they were actually in pain. My last day and every step, especially with my right foot hurt. My Achilles tendon was so tight that it was now painful. I was hoping that it would loosen up, but every step seemed to hurt. It became so bad that I resorted to taking a couple of ibuprofen to make the pain go away after trying to work through it. The scenery was nice as undulating forest was the view for the morning. I passed Salvation Spring where other tents were parked for the night. Nothing any more remarkable than my spot.

My impatience with the Oregon experience was hitting its breaking point. The forest was great, but there was not much to break up the view. Even a small lake along the way was so obscured by the amount of trees that it was not much of a sight to see. I wondered why this forest did not burn and really with how dry it currently was right now, I knew it was only a matter of time. My foot was slowly loosening up, but the pain was not completely leaving. I knew I could not be doing too much additional damage to it, but my body was telling me it needed a rest. Still I plodded on spending most of the morning in thick forest until I came to a more open view.

Here I could see the Eagle Creek drainage start to open up. I was high above it, but knew that this drainage was my passage to the Columbia River and my completion of the PCT through Oregon. I decided to take the Indian Springs trail. This would allow me to access the Eagle Creek drainage. I could go a little further to the northwest and drop down at Wahtum Lake, but this was the fastest route to my way out and I knew that this was going to be another 25 mile day. In all, I would have to finish 166 miles in 6 days. No wonder my feet were hurting. When I left the PCT to travel down the Indian Springs trail, it was sort of bitter sweet. As usual, there were some hipsters talking to each other, but here I was just going downhill.

The trail went downhill fast. I knew that the Eagle Creek drainage had been burned in a fire and this trail seemed to get the brunt of it. There were down logs to climb over everywhere and just a generally steep downhill grade. I seemed to be the only fool that was using this trail until I saw a very tired, sweaty guy come up the trail. He seemed tired, but he was friendly. He talked about the steepness of the trail. Each step was sort of painful, but it was now just about getting down. I did not lose the trail, but it was not one I would ever fondly look back upon. Finally I came upon the junction with the Eagle Creek trail and I was relieved to be done with that one. It suddenly became less steep and burned out. I promptly found a nice spot for lunch and took the pack off with an amazing view.

Now it was time for waterfalls. The trail seemed to be a bit busier at this point, but still, I was far enough away from the trailhead that it was quiet. I got to see Eagle Creek from the opposite perspective. Since it was right near the Interstate, most people hiked up, sometimes to the first waterfall, sometimes a little bit further. I got to see the waterfalls from the top down. I could see why there were so many waterfalls, because this drainage was steep. I was dropping elevation dramatically since taking the Indian Springs trail as I had to get down almost to sea level. I also was getting my first taste of raindrops on the entire PCT. I was welcoming them, though, as the overcast skies were such a nice break from the relentless heat that had been the norm on the trail thus far. It never rained enough for me to get soaking wet, though. I know all the forests of Oregon could use the rain because if there was a theme, it was that this place was dry. Waterfalls were starting to appear around every bend. I am not sure the grand total of waterfalls that I was to see, but it was definitely in the double digits. At first they were little and so were the crowds. 

The first truly dramatic one was a waterfall that seemed to twist around a bend in the rock. I never got a great picture of this one, partially because there were people all around, but also because I would have had to lean myself out on the edge of the trail. Trail construction here was quite amazing as there were paths cut out of the sheer walls. Some places you could tell it took some engineering to forge a path through the valley, but this was an important spot to Oregon's history. For over a hundred years, people have been trekking up and down this area to see these waterfalls. Sometime the path became very steep and exposed. It seemed like at least once a year there was a news story of a person dying in Eagle Creek. There was nowhere where I felt unsafe, but there were so many people making the journey up that I knew it was possible. Huge waterfalls began to appear and I was glad I went this way even though the traffic was much different than if I would have stayed on the PCT. If I would have been on the actual trail, all I would have been doing was counting down the miles until the journey was over. At least here, I was seeing some sights that I would remember for a long time.

As I neared the end of this trail, though, I was starting to get impatient. Boy did my foot hurt and there were so many people. It was relentlessly downhill which was not helping. I checked my watch endlessly as I avoided the piles of people. The stream was so pleasant and the people so excited to be there, but I was just thrilled when I finally spotted the parking lot. Here I used a bathroom with running water for the first time in I don't know how long. I then walked a road which took me to a campground. All day I had been hoping for cell service, but I was finally able to communicate with my wife. She was on her way to the trailhead, but she had spent a lot of the day in Portland and would be a little bit late. There was no reason for me to hurry.

Still I was just so happy to get the pack off my back that when I saw the sign for the Columbia River Gorge trail and it telling me that I only had 2.5 miles until I met up with Pacific Crest trail again, I was happy. This looked a little bit funny to have a guy with an overnight pack on what essentially was a bike trail, but I knew I had to finish in Cascade Locks. This is where I told everyone that I was going when starting the trail 19 days previously in Ashland. I had walked 420 miles and even though Jacqueline could pick me up at the Eagle Creek trailhead, I needed to finish this section. The paved bike path took me to a trail through the woods that hugged the Interstate. Here huge trucks and passenger cars went by at speeds of 60-70 miles per hour, while I slowly plodded my way on tired feet. 

It was almost anticlimactic when I popped out to a trailhead in the town of Cascade Locks. Here I met up with the PCT again and I took off my pack to use it as a seat. This lonely spot at the edge of town with a few cars parked and no people around was the crowning achievement of my hike. I felt relieved that the journey was over. A half an hour later my wife showed up and she brought the kids along. I was proud of myself with following through with my plans and that my kids could see that something challenging could be accomplished. I was so happy to go home though. The shoes that I was wearing were so trashed by this point and my feet were in so much pain. It would turn out that the following day, my Achilles on both ankles would be so sore that I could barely walk around the house.

420 plus miles and the last day had nearly done me in. I was so happy to see my kids and family. I was very tired, though, and even though I was usually the one to drive, I let my wife do the driving. I was hairy, dirty, grimy, sore, but refreshed. Something like the PCT is only exciting because it is so different. Most of life is waking up in the morning and attacking the to do list. Even more of the time, that to do list is filled with activities that you do not want to do such as a job. This job can not become my life. My life needs a balance. One thing that I discovered on the PCT is that I really did not spend a lot of time soul searching. I realized that I had it pretty good. I had a house by the river, two wonderful kids, an amazing supportive wife, great friends and family, an enjoyable career, and a happy existence. I lived in probably one of the most beautiful places in Oregon and I was happy. A journey such as this allowed me to keep the balance. I was now rather satiated on the adventure part of my life and was ready to settle in for the long haul that would be the school year. Still it would not take me too long to start thinking what it would be like to hike the PCT through the state of Washington?

PCT Day 18: Barlow Pass to Bull Run

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.  

PCT Day 17: Warm Springs River to Barlow Pass

I definitely did not sleep enough. Getting in late, being grimy and sweaty, it was a rough night. I even got a late start, not hitting the trail until 7 AM. Still I was not ready to get moving and putting on the pack again for another long day was going to be rough. My feet were so sore, especially around my Achilles. I had to move very slowly and I could not overextend myself at all. It was actually rather painful and it took quite some time to loosen up. The trail climbed slowly uphill, but it was barely noticeable. Then it descended slowly downhill. The trail was quiet, but I did run into some people on horseback who were far too boisterous for my current mood. I was about the miles today and I would not be happy unless I could cover a fair amount. Having done 31 miles the previous day, it would be tough to pack away even more miles today.

After about 7 miles, I was in Mt. Hood National Forest. This would be my first time hiking around Mt. Hood and I was preparing myself for the onslaught of human beings that was likely to be there. The trail was quiet at first until I came to a road with cars driving much too fast and probably the largest, fanciest sign I had seen thus far for the Pacific Crest Trail. From here the trail went right next to Timothy Lake. It was a beautiful lake and the trail was flat. There were numerous campsites by the lake mostly all occupied given that it was Saturday during the summer time. I thought about swimming in the lake, but knew if I took any extended break, I was likely to not make it to Timberline Lodge the following day for the buffet breakfast. So I plodded along always thinking I would have another opportunity to stop at the lake and get some water if I needed to. The lake seemed to last forever, but soon I was at the last little arm of the lake. I found a quiet spot to have a little lunch, but I neglected to refill my water. This would come back to haunt me later. Passing the junction for Little Crater Lake, I passed my last chance to fill my water.

The trail climbed steeply from here. The trail was all of sudden not shady and pleasant anymore, but rather hot and dry. I moved slowly uphill. My feet loosened up but I still was not moving quickly. I passed a group of younger PCT hikers resting in the shade. Given the miles I had been putting in every day, I was leaving behind many familiar faces. These new groups that I was running into were full of people I hadn't ever met. The trail climbed toward Wapinitia Pass. The heat and the uphill hiking were making my water supply deplete rapidly. I was hoping that at the pass, there may be running water. As I climbed, eventually the views of Mt. Hood were beginning. It still felt so far away though.

When I got to the pass, there was nothing there as far as running water. The pass itself was just a place to cross the road, but there was a big parking area right by the turn to Frog Lake. Here people could park and get on the PCT. I was happy to sit down on a bench with a picnic table and throw away the garbage that was in my pack. It wasn't like it made my pack that much lighter, but it did make it more cleanly. I didn't rest too long before I was climbing uphill again. Now, though, I was getting far too low on water. When I looked at the map, I could see that I would not cross any more creeks. I had an important decision to make. There was a junction just above me where a trail less than a mile long descended down to a lake. I had no choice but to leave my big pack and take the water filter and my water bottles down to the lake.

It is hard to describe how frustrating it is to get off trail because of poor planning. These were miles that I would have to add on and time that I would not get back. I even shortcut the trail because I needed to get there in the shortest amount of time. The lake itself looked so nice. How much fun would it be to just camp here for the night? It was shady and the lake was nice and warm. There were plenty of people swimming and camping around the lake. Instead, though, I would quickly fill the water bottles. I had to go out on a log and precariously balance to get the water, but eventually I had drank my fill and filled up the bottles. Then it was back up the trail I had just come down. I had lost a half hour which may not seem like much, but I wondered if I was going to have enough energy to make it close enough to Timberline Lodge. My goal for the night was Barlow Pass. From the lakes, it was only two miles, but it was uphill and it was getting late in the evening. I persevered and I soon found myself at a nice large sign letting me know it was Barlow Pass. I was very happy to be there. When I looked around, though, there didn't seem to be many campsites. A couple of people pointed out to me that there were more places to camp down the road, so I found a nearly flat spot down the road. I set up the tent, made a quick dinner, read my book, but mostly I was just happy to not be moving for a while. I had put in 27 miles to make it to this point, but I knew I had another full day ahead of me the following day. I would have to be up early if I hoped to make breakfast at Timberline Lodge.