Sobo PCT 2021 Series (part 2): Harts Pass to High Bridge Campground to resupply at Stehekin

Here is part 2 of my south bound Pacific Crest Trail journey. Follow my backpacking trip in the next couple of posts. The most recent day is at the top, and the oldest day is at the bottom.

Unfortunately I wasn’t able to upload any photos for this post :(( but if you check out my Facebook page or instagram (justagirlandabackpack.blog) you can get daily updates with pictures!!

Mile 69.5 to mile 80.7 + .2 from Six Mile Campground (11.4 mi today, avg 13.03 mi/day, 117.4 mi total, day 9): Fri July 9. I set my alarm for 6am and eventually sat up and stretched, before heading out to the “cooking area” of the campsite where Alan and Cory (we’re trying to name her Cricketwoman due to her Batman-like backstory with crickets) were already busy munching. Owen joined us after a bit, and Ginger and the other guy who had camped next to me had already headed out. As I dragged myself up the steep hill from camp to the PCT, I saw a Stellar’s Jay swoop by and immediately knew it was going to be a good day. I quickly happened upon Dwayne (?) who seemed to be meditating in the sun, and had a lovely discussion about life and what he was going out on the trail; we came to the conclusion that he should take the trail name his brother had given him, since it seemed to fit so all (I can’t remember the exact name, but it is an obscure Lord of the Rings character from book one). I’d be interested to hike with him if I see him down the road, because he had kind eyes, a soft voice, and seemed wise in that way that only hiker trash and dirt baggers can. There were lots of bigger water crossings today, with very wobbly “one of a kind” (the builder’s words) wooden bridges that were just recently put up on over the gushing rivers. I saw a pretty black bear, seemed pretty young or at least scrawny, peaking at me above the berry bushes as I walked along. I raised my poles in the air and she immediately ran off, making surprisingly little noise. I bumped into Ginger as I was passing through a stock camp, and she confirmed that the berries turning from red to purple were edible, and huckleberries (although she said they might be blueberries because people from Oregon always call blueberries huckleberries, and she’s not sure of the difference). We munched on those and thimbleberries for several miles, chatting and being utterly confused by the signage and crisscrossing trails and roads, before we suddenly popped out at the High Bridge Cabin, where moments later the White Bus pulled up and shuttled us off to Stehekin Valley Ranch. (The White bus stops wherever you ask (more or less) like the bakery, campsites, trails, etc, and is free if you stay at Stehekin Valley Ranch (otherwise they ask for a donation). The driver Cliff was very friendly and knowledgeable. The schedule seems to be pretty loose, but the bus showed up right at 12:30 at highbridge and got me everywhere I wanted to go with no trouble. There is also a red bus but that’s $8 each ride I think. Doesn’t stop at 12:30 anymore.) A young bear, still in her juvenile brown coat, ran by as we drove, and I was so excited I stood up and shouted, haha! We grabbed lunch (burgers, chips, cold lemonade, soup and shepherds pie) and I got the last cabin available, which turned out to also be the oldest one there, with very low ceilings and no AC, but still very charming–I promise I offered to share the room with Ginger, but she was thinking she’d rather stay at the Lodge. (Stehekin Valley Ranch is a lovely place to stay: $149ish w/tax for the overflow trappers cabin that has shared bathrooms ($180 plus tax for private bath and air conditioning); 3 square meals are included (with vegetarian options) and were delicious and filling (I don’t yet have hiker hunger tho); lots of activities on the campus and other things you can pay for. Very friendly employees, family style dining tables, relaxed atmosphere.) We then hopped on the 1:20pm white bus to town. Haven’t tasted the cinnamon roll I got from the Bakery yet, but it’s MASSIVE, and they also have lots of options like sandwiches, etc. We checked out the showers and laundry where a bunch of hikers were hanging out in rain gear or scantily clad. (I heard there is a hiker box inside laundry and inside shower room for soap and quarters etc. There is also a sink.) The shop at the lodge is very limited, but I got two local craft beers for less than $4 so I call that a win. The guy who was working at the post office was funny and very friendly. Easy to get packages with just your last name. Hiker box is across the street. We of course jumped in Lake Chelan because it was hot, and Donuts and Smutz told us it was great. It’s amazing, and freezing. Plenty of picnic tables to choose from to set up shop for awhile if we’d wanted to. I then rushed to get on the last White Bus at 2:45pm, which was loading up with people who had arrived on the ferry. Back at SVR, I laid all my gear out on my porch to dry and air out and ran a load of most of my laundry. On the porch I laid out my absurd amounts of food and repackaged anything that needed cooking or more snacks, making a bag of extra food to leave in the hiker box in town. M-8 (aka Julie) came up and started chatting with me–she’s a mom of 8 kids (hence the name) who has been taking them on thruhikes since they were little; she’s currently doing the PCT with a group of 6 ladies, one of whom is her youngest daughter (14). After hanging my newly clean laundry to dry on the porch, I took a shower and threw the rest of my clothes in the wash, wearing still damp long John bottoms and my hiking shirt (and nothing else, including no shoes or socks). Dinner was a lovely affair, with people all bunched up on the long banquet tables inside and outside, chowing down on the nights special of western style bbq (ribs, brisket, corn, potatoes, beans), or steak, salmon and chicken with salad. It’s serve yourself, with the meat served to order. I joined M-8 and her daughter Snowcone (named for her propensity to make snowcones out of powdered drink mix and snow found on trail), and we ate while we talked. Dessert was our choice of about 8 different pies (1 massive slice or 2 smaller ones), which I took to go and ate outside while I did my nightly routine of sending Garmin messages, checking my maps, writing my blog update for the day, etc. I watched and listened as several helicopters landed right in front of SVR, presumably the ones keeping an eye out on the 2+ lightning fires that has started just above the lake (smoke visible all day from one, which probably was still just a single tree). As the sun fell behind the mountains, I moved all of my gear indoors, and made sure all my food was in the plastic, rodent proof box I had asked for (my ancient cabin’s door doesn’t close).

Mile 53.8 to mile 69.5 + .2 for water + .2 to Six Mile Campground (16.1 mi today, avg 13.29 mi/day, 106.3 mi total, day 8): Thurs July 8. Today was fairly uneventful. I woke up and did my stretches outside as my tent dried off; I looked up to the very clear sound of voices saying “Oh look there’s another campsite” and saw two guys way up at the top of Cutthroat as they waved down at me (I later found out it was the German and the Oregonian), which was just another strange acoustic thing that happens in the mountains. The switch backs up to the pass weren’t so bad, but they did pass over some snowy sections that were easy enough to skirt. Then it was downhill for the rest of the day, which is unfortunate as the impact really gets to my knees, feet and back. I soaked my shirt and did my laundry at the first big rush of water. After hearing cars for a couple of miles, I passed through Rainy Pass where the trail crosses I-20, and saw the German and Oregonian (idk what their names are, oops) attempting a hitch out to Twisp because they hadn’t sent themselves a resupply box to Stehekin. The trail follows the highway for longer than is desirable, but eventually the car sounds faded away and were replaced by the sound of many heavily flowing rivers that we had to cross on logs, bridges and rocks. Conny and Alan (who had camped nearby and received my grapes at Brush Creek) and Ginger (who I’d passed on my way back to Harts) both passed me or I passed them a couple of times before we all ended up in the Six Mile Campground to hide from the incoming rain. The way in felt like a tropical rainforest, with the sounds of insects and birds squawking, greenery and flowers overgrowing the trail, and the heat and humidity pressing down on me. Two Swallowtail butterflies let me pick them up off the trail, and there were so many caterpillars everywhere (I’ve been looking around trying to find chrysalises but no luck yet). I stopped for water at Hideaway Camp, where I also soaked my shirt again. As I was rushing towards Six Mile Campground I saw a snake slither between my feet; not sure what it was, but it looked small and dark like a garter snake. I ate dinner early with the three of them after setting up camp, chatting and having a good time after so many days just in my own head. I saw one flash of lightning after hours of rolling thunder and not a drop of rain until I sneaked out of my tent for a snack and got to talking to Owen who had shown up a little later. Someone was smoking weed after everyone tucked in haha. I had the (dubious) pleasure of using the Porcelain Throne (aka the black plastic composter toilet that is basically a toilet seat set over a tank with no walls); better than digging a cathole, but without the perfect squatting for easy of pooping.

Mile 43.2 to mile 53.8 (10.6 mi today, avg 12.89 mi/day, 90.2 mi total, day 7): Wed July 7. I woke up to cloudy skies and a light sprinkle. I ran out to pee and grab my bear hung food, before crawling back into my tent to have a warmer, drier time eating and getting ready than if I’d done it “outside”. When it started to pour heavily, I got back in my base layers read for a little while, then passed out again until after noon when the rain stopped. Lunch was leisurely in the warm, humid air by my tent, and after splashing my face, pits, shirt and dirty undies and socks in the river, I headed out with plans to go at least 8 miles. I played yoyo with a German guy and his Oregonian hiking partner, passing each other multiple times throughout the day. There were also a lot of other people out today, in sharp contrast to yesterday’s notable lack of human beings. The trail from the bridge at Brush Creek up to Methow Pass was covered in worse downed trees than even the last 6 miles to the border; sometimes there were 4 or 5 trees (sometimes huge ones) thrown across the trail that I had to walk across like a tight rope, or crawl under, or go really far to the side to get around them–sometimes doing all three! The beautiful views from Methow Pass to where I camped south of Cutthroat Pass at Granite Pass were well worth the effort, though. There was plenty of water in streams and trickles and rivers. The campsite I chose is pretty breezy and buggy, but there was a great bear hang tree and I’m far off the trail with the whole place to myself. This was my coldest night yet, at below 48°F when the sun fully set; I had my 10° quilt up to my nose, base layer hood, beanie and puffy hood on, and was cozy.

Mile 29.4 to 43.2 with a 10 mi hitch + a 7.5 mi hitch + a 2.5mi road walk from Mazama (16.3 mi today, avg 13.27 mi/day, 79.6 mi total, day 6): Tues July 6. I rolled out of bed to an already warm morning, put the coffee pot on and did my stretches. I walked out to the Mazama “grocery” store and spent $20 on fresh grapes, and $6 on a breakfast bagel; my body was craving fresh fruit enough that I shoved grapes down my throat at a rate of 12 grapes/second (thankfully I didn’t choke). After packing all my things that were strewn about on every available surface, I sauntered out into the heat and started walking along the road towards the distant Harts Pass, sticking my thumb out when a car came nearby. Everyone waved nicely as they passed me, which seemed at odds with the fact that they didn’t pick me up. Then an Angel by the name of Marisol scooped me up for about 7 miles, telling me all about her horses and wondering how my parents were allowing me to do the PCT, esp solo. I walked about 2.5 miles further up the road, getting more friendly waves and one lady even apologized that she couldn’t help me out. I dunked my head and hat in a river, tried some Service Berries (which aren’t all that tasty, at least not the local variety), and turned onto the forest road that is about 10 miles from the pass. That’s when Storm Chaser, in his brand new, bright orange truck, picked me up and brought me all the way to the top. He kindly gave me an extra pair of sunglasses that he had on hand, because I think mine fell off of my hat in Marisol’s car. There was only about 1.3 miles to the ranger station, which flew by quickly, and I stopped to use the pit toilet, sign the register again and switch out my massive fuel canister (that I didn’t use at all) for a half-full tiny one that someone had left behind. Continuing on, I found a place in the shade to check out Guthooks to find out what my day would look like and to decide where to camp, eat lunch and get water. The hike started out uphill through the burned forest that parallels the road from Mazama, and pops out on top of the ridge with great views on both sides, especially from the little side trail that led to the summit. Then the trail began a descent that would last the rest of the day (my poor knees and feet 😭). For 6 miles from just before the ranger station, the loose rock was dry as a bone, except for a patch or two of mostly melted snow. I was getting desperate for a water source, hoping that the creek on my map hadn’t already dried up with the heat, when I finally heard it below a buggy campsite where I decided to eat lunch. I busted a trail myth: if you kill mosquitoes and leave their dead bodies on your skin, the other mosquitoes will still bite you, don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. Also, I picked some sage brush and tucked it in my hat and shirt pocket, and now I know why they call it Cowboy Cologne: it was AMAZING to not smell my BO and instead smell this lovely aromatic plant. The trail reached another ridge, and the view was somehow more fantastic, with glaciated mountains towering in the near distance, a lake so clear and teal that it looked photoshopped, and waterfalls in ribbons down to the valley below. This is where the trail started doing switch back after switch back after switch back, parading hikers in front of the view for almost 3 miles amongst flowering blueberry bushes, before falling below tree line and then falling again to the base of the valley, alongside a river where the vegetation overtook the trail and was so lush with flowering bushes that promised fruit. I heard an alarm go up from several squirrels and birds, and looked around: it’s amazing how they know when a bird of prey is on the hunt. At one point the monotony of the downhill forced me to drop my pack to rest and just space out while I ate some peanut mnms and peanut butter pretzels to bring my blood sugar back up. There were so many plants that the bears would love when the fruit eventually forms: blueberries, thimbleberries, service berries, blackberries/raspberries/salmonberries, several types of currants, and plants I didn’t know the name of! I saw some impressive claw marks on some trees, and my head was on a constant swivel looking out for early bears, as well as rattlesnakes that some people had warned me about. The butterflies were very cooperative today and allowed me to get lots of pictures of them up close. Finally, finally, I saw a sign to Brush Creek, crossed the bridge over the heavily flowing river and made camp at one of the many spots a ways away. The ground was a little slangy, but the bugs weren’t too bad, and I had a nice little area away from camp to cook, eat, stretch and do my bear hang. A pair of hikers set up camp below me, and I gave them the rest of my grapes because I simply couldn’t eat another one. I carried the grapes the whole day, hoping I’d see hikers to share with,but the only people I saw were some day hikers going the other way at lunch and these two people camped nearby–super strange after the business of the border hike.