Sobo PCT 2021 Series (part 3): Zero Day at Stehekin to Stevens Pass

Here is part 3 of my trail journals for my Sobo PCT adventure. Follow my thruhiking trip in the next posts (no pics due to technical difficulties on trail), or on Facebook or Instagram at JustAGirlAndABackpack.Blog (lots of pics!!). The most recent day is at the top, and the oldest day is at the bottom. (I release posts on a schedule a couple of weeks behind the present day for safety reasons.)

Random skills I’ve gotten good at while on trail: walking and doing literally anything else (eating, drinking, using my phone, rearranging stuff in my pack, rearranging clothes); setting up my tent anywhere; eating constantly; thinking and only thinking; not being bored; gratitude

Statistics for my journey so far are as follows. Trail stats: record miles in one day = 21.6; avg 14.31 mi/day w/ zero days; avg 15.27 mi/day w/o zero days; 229 mi hiked total; day 16. Town stats: 1 zero day; 4 nights spent in a town; 3 resupplies; 3 showers; 2 loads of laundry. Nature connection stats: 1 snake; 2 bears; 4 species of wild plants munched on; 4 species of wild plants used to wipe with; 1 good sunrise; 2 good sunsets; 6 instances when I felt exceptionally connected to nature; 1 accidental sploosh at a river crossing; 3 dives into lakes; 3 rain storms; 1 lightning/thunder storm; 2 foggy days. Human connection stats: 7 hiking buddies; 3 hitch hikes; 12 trail angels. Mental state stats: 2 books read; 1 day of existential dread; times I felt scared = 4; times I wanted a hiking partner = 5. Physical state stats: 3 small cuts; 2 blisters; infinite insect love nips; 1 unidentified lump. Gear stats: 1 pair of shoes mangled; 14 gear repairs completed; 10 gear modifications; 1 gear item lost.

PCT SOBO 2021 series: Friday July 16. Mile 174 to 188.4 with Nero at Baring (14.4 miles today, day 16). Somehow the 14 miles to Stevens Pass took forever. The fog made the forest and the trail and the lakes I passed very mysterious. I often felt that i was hiking the wrong direction and had to check my map to make sure I wasn’t. The closer I got to the pass, the more weekend warriors and day hikers there were, some friendly enough to chat and say “my, aren’t you a bit late for a thruhiker?” The last 2 miles were endless, on a straight, flat path with the sound of airplanes, trains and cars blowing by, as well as some strange colorful building peaking out of the valley below. At the pass i signed the guest register, then saw Tonka waiting for a hitch at the edge of the strange, massive parking lots. Tonka is the same guy i saw at Sonora Pass during my shakedown hike, at the border with a water melon, and at a campsite near Harts, with gloriously flowing hair. I made my way to the Stevens Pass Lodge, wandering around with Benjamin to find the security guard who keeps the hiker packages (there was a phone number on a door at the lodge). Whistler (guard), a super friendly class of 2015 hiker, named Benjamin Twinkle Toes because he was wandering around barefoot. My package hadn’t yet arrived, so I made the important calls, checked some messages and then decided to head into town. Tonka was walking up the steps as I was walking down them, and asked if I wanted to join his hitch to the Dinsmore’s Hiker Haven in Baring, WA. Boy was I happy to not have to try the hitch from that busy highway! Piper, long time PCT trail angel and shuttle from the pass to the surrounding towns, was very talkative and helpful, bringing us to the Cascades Inn for some tasty lunches before showing us around the Haven and introducing us a to Jerry (PCT Dad himself). I spent the day doing laundry, showering, wiping down and airing out my gear, having some deep thoughts with Tonka, doing some chores around the Haven as payment to Jerry for the stay, doing some gear repairs, and getting dinner with Piper in Gold Bar at Rico’s Pizza place (SO AMAZING!). This place is like a hiker run hostel with bunks and flags everywhere, relics from past hikers, loaner clothes for those who are washing, and 2 acres of some pretty park-like land. Over a couple of bowls of hemp, Tonka and I wound down.

PCT SOBO 2021 series: Thursday July 15. Mile 152.4 to Mile 174 (21.6 miles today, day 15). I smell G.R.E.A.T. (Gross, Repulsive, Ew, Ack, Terrible)! Very wet this morning, thought it was raining but just lots of condensation on the trees dripping down with every gust of wind. The fog was rolling off of the pond and the surrounding hills, and I had the distinct pleasure of walking through it for several hours, which was a nice change of pace from the overly hot days we’d been having. The first 16 miles were over in a blink, and I wasn’t quite ready for lunch when I did end up stopping for water and a good poop. There were lots of people on trail today, including a lady (Hopper) who had done the PCT twice, and her sister in law (Piper), a guy (Bee Keeper) who had done the PCT and his hiking buddy (Jim) who offered me freshly filtered water and chatted my ear off for awhile, some other older dudes reliving their glory days (their words), and Donuts (who i hiked with for a bit), Lauren (now called Long Way) and Piglet (who unfortunately decided today to leave the trail due to massive blisters). I arrived at Pear Lake, which had been my minimum mileage goal for the day, and continued on down down down into a marshy area with lots of squeeters, then up up up to Grizzly Peak (also with lots of squeeters), plopping my pack down at the first flatish spot up there because my feet were feeling the higher mileage. My eyes are literally drifting closed as I write this, even though the sun is still decently above the horizon at 8pm. The fog just came in and obscured the sun and the rest of the sky, so I lowered my trekking poles and tightened up the guyout points of my tent for a cozier evening’s rest. Philosophical trail thought of the day: I wonder if the myth of skelkies came from some early ideology that if a man saw a woman naked, he had to take her as his wife, and then he had full control over her…

PCT SOBO 2021 series: Mile 132.9 to Mile 152.4 (19.5 mi today, avg 13.79 mi/day w/ 1 zero day, avg 14.85 mi/day w/o zero days, 193 mi total, day 14): Wed July 14. Don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure it got below freezing last night (as witnessed by the frozen over puddles everywhere near the snow); i was as snug as a bug in a rug in my 10°F Enigma quilt by Enlightened Equipment (they aren’t paying me to advertise, but they should!) And my tent’s rainfly was lowered almost flush with the ground on all sides (trekking poles set to 13 instead of 25 haha). Unfortunately, i hardly got any sleep, partially because I woke up at 2am to condensation dripping on my face as my tent flapped in the wind–one of the stakes had come unmoored from it’s places in the snow–and partially because I decided I just HAD to see the sunrise since I had the best view ever. I didn’t know what time the sun would rise, so I set my alarms for 4am, 4:30, 5, and 5:30, waking up to each of them in turn to see a little more light in the sky, until bam! 5:30am on the dot, the sun was just peering over the distant mountains to shine dazzlingly into my eyes. The lack of solid sleep had a very negative impact on my entire day (that or i was experiencing heat exhaustion, which is also very possible). I was basically slogging, breathing heavily, and in need of a break way too often from the moment I broke camp to the moment I made camp. Also, the dew that had formed on the outside of my tent, had also formed on every plant in WA, and I was quickly soaked from the knee down. The sloshing in my shoes only got worse when I made a mistake and trusted a rock that wasn’t stable on a river crossing. I made my first stop soon after to dry all of my clothing out for an hour and a half, to avoid blisters and more misery. It gave me a chance to read some more of my book and to eat lunch (did I already say I’m hungry all the time now?). Before the mishap, I had the pleasure of watching a spider spin her web, suspended a few inches above a puddle, ready to catch many unsuspecting mosquitoes who had decided to lay their eggs there. Yesterday, Charlie had warned me that there was a river crossing where he and some soboers had made a makeshift log bridge. I encountered it, and found it not to my liking, but the other options were to drown, get hit in the head by falling rocks, or attempt to wade across very deep, fast flowing water. The slog continued, with me taking breaks and seeing that only a few more miles had faded away. I had to get 18+ in to make the next two days to Stevens Pass reasonable (I still have to do two 18 milers to make it before I run out of food). WA reminds me daily of a tropical rain forest: unbearable heat (and some humidity), water everywhere, general muddiness, trails fighting a losing battle with plants, so many biting insects, so many flowers and berries, everything has thorns, etc. At some point I started to sing out loud to myself, trying to distract from the exhaustion, and it actually helped loads: i sang whatever random lyrics i could remember from every musical i was in growing up, Disney, and some of my favorite artists. I took a break by a waterfall, enjoying the chill air and cold water on my bare feet, when Metric passed asking “Are you taking a lil breaky break?” (clearly). My third wind hit on the final, massive stretch of uphill to top out on a pass with impressive views on all sides. I dropped down next to Metric, and we had a good chat while we ate our respective dinners (my cold soaked pasta Roni turned out surprisingly good, and I kept the soaking water to get all those good carbs that had leached out, and to make the seasoning less dry). My fourth wind had me blow right by him to Reflection Pond, where I got bombarded by flies as a did my stretches and bear hang (and ate a bed time snack). Sunset was lovely and the air cooled considerably. So, way TMI for those of you who aren’t yet part of the thruhiker world, but fun fact: as the hiker hunger sets in, I eat more, and as I eat more, my poops get bigger haha. My current TP substitute is soft conifer needles followed by old man’s beard (that dangly green moss/lichen in the trees). I’m trying something out tonight: I’ve folded up my sleeping pad until only half remains (the length of my head to my tush), and I’m going to decide if I’m comfy enough to permanently remove that other half to loose a couple of ounces of base weight. Wish me luck! Also, lmk if you have any other ideas for reducing my base weight.

PCT SOBO 2021 series: Mile 115.1 to mile 132.9 (17.8 mi today, avg 13.35 mi/day, 173.5 mi total, day 13): Tues July 13. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of wind, and I quickly rushed outside to bring my drying laundry in so it wouldn’t blow away. I woke a second time without an alarm at 3 minutes to 6am and was out of camp by 7:40 (yes, I move exceptionally slowly in the morning. One of the many things I intend to change by the time I get to Mexico). And so began almost 20 miles of switchbacks. Switchbacks uphill with dirty little streams to cross, switchbacks downhill with no water, switchbacks downhill while bushwhacking and with no water, switchbacks uphill while bushwhacking even bigger bushes and also hoping the ground wouldn’t landslide under me because there were cracks everywhere, switchbacks uphill through snow where I lost the trail every other turn, switchbacks everywhere! There were several places where the thorn bushes overgrew the trail and masked the slick slant of it, causing me to slide onto my ass, leg all the way down the mountain. And dont even get me started about the spiders: they had all conspired to put their webs at eye level every 2.31 feet down the trail. The views though, were worth it. Glacier Peak was visible off and on, with ice and snow that looked about ready to slide right off the mountain. I met Ninja and Sandman, the former hiking nobo/yoyo on the PCT and the latter hiking the Great Western Loop (6000+ miles of trails combining the CDT, AZT, PCT and PNT). Ninja got a video of me singing happy birthday to send to his father as a part of a conglomeration of vids of hikers. Fire smoke was also in the air, but I only smelled it once so that was good. The one section that can be said to have been relatively flat, was lovely, with water running everywhere down snowy boulder fields. At the end of this section was some shade that I gladly relaxed in and took my best poop so far (also my cathole was really well done and I had a great view!); Those little toilet box things that seem to be everywhere in this park just aren’t the same. At the Milk River bridge where the water flows so strongly the air temp dropped 15 degrees, I stopped for lunch and spoke with Charlie who was doing some snow backpacking around Glacier Peak. The marmots in their fluffy whitish winter coats are massive, and so are the holes that they dig everywhere. There came a point in the late afternoon where the altitude was very high, and the slope was north facing, so the snow was ever present but steadily melting. Between this point and camp, I was a little scared of falling under the snow and not being found until it had all melted. A river crossing right before I reached Mica Lake would have been difficult without snow, but this time of year the snow melt had heavily swollen the river, and there was a very unsteady snow bridge hanging over the water. If I had walked over the snow and it had collapse, i would have ended up being dragged under the ice below, in freezing rapids with sharp rocks until the river let out somewhere much lower altitude–not a survivable scenario. So I instead hiked up and over the hill where the snow had already melted and made my river crossing by rock hoping and scrambling and a little bit if climbing up some steep, slippery rocks until I had a view of the lake herself. The streaks of Mica in the surrounding rocks had clearly given it it’s name, but Sapphire Lake or Glacial Tarn would easily be great names for it as well. I decided to jump into the mostly frozen lake, but quickly realized that would be a horrible idea and just washed up and sun tanned in the nude, enjoying the last few rays of sunlight that that side of the mountain would receive. The water was so cold my feet were instantly in pain and then almost as quickly on the verge of becoming numb. The climb continued on, the snow ever deepening, until I was basically just route finding using footprints in the snow and snippets of trail that poked out on rocky outcroppings. One part I intentionally skirted around the edge of a snow field, so I could be in the shade where the snow was hardening, and not go through the small pond that was forming in the center, and probably surrounded by very unstable ice. After the lake, which had been my goal mileage, i was desperately looking for a campsite while chasing the sun over the horizon. At nearly the top of Fire Creek Pass, i found what I was looking for ( a flat spot), with the much appreciated addition of a magnificent 360° view and several more hours of daylight. I did all of my evening chores and watched the sun sink, wearing all of my layers except my sleeping bag. I am sleeping with my food tonight because the trees are all very small on this high, exposed rock, something i dearly hope I don’t regret.

PCT SOBO 2021 series: Mile 97.1 to mile 115.1 (18 mi today, avg 12.98 mi/day, 155.7 mi total, day 12): Mon July 12. My alarm at 6am was unwelcome, but I need to get on a more hiker friendly schedule (early to bed, early to rise) to use my daylight wisely, especially if I’m going to start upping my mileage. The air was a little smokey, I could smell it and see it covering the distant mountains. “Be Positive” trotted by as I was shoving my tent away, I could hear ChiliMac and Alan eating breakfast below, and Bombadil was long gone. The climb out of camp, and much of the first 5 miles was a slot for me. I dropped my pack and cleaned up at the first bigger waterfall I came across, giving Ginger, Chilimac and Alan time to catch up and say our good mornings before I took off again to tackle some more snow fields. The trail got lost a few times under several feet of snow, but I was able to find it again with the help of the map. Someone had written cute, encouraging messages in the dirt and snow, with little arrows to help out the rest of us. I saw some more golden eyes toads hopping around the trail. I caught up to Be Positive and we started chatting for the first time as we ducked under and around some serious blow downs. She’s a fascinating lady who has travelled a lot, speaks 3 languages and has several more that she plans to become proficient in; she is also the eldest child of M-8. She sped up to go my pace, and we finished the 15 miles from camp to her groups stopping point in no time at all, pausing only for a little while to hang out with Bombadil, who appeared to want alone time. We saw a grouse and her 3 grouslings right on trail, making funky little popping chirps. We did lunch at the campsite before a massive bridge that was built when the PCT was rerouted a couple of years ago. There were many, many downed trees, but someone had cleared the site enough to fit a sizable group. The little wooden box toilet had a great view of the trail and bridge 😂. After trying to filter water without getting too much of the silt that the Siuattle River is known for, I continued on to the next campsite on Guthooks to round out my day at 18 miles. The old growth forest on the other side of the bridge was amazing, esp in my dazed state. The trees were so tall and so big around, they’d give redwoods a run for their money. After a time I suddenly became aware that i wasn’t in old growth anymore, but in a very very young forest. It felt as though I had been teleported out of the old growth, or as if I had dreamt it and not really been there at all. I thanked my lucky stars when I finally rolled up to the goal campsite by the Siuattle River trail, sitting down for a bit before beginning my cold soak, setting up camp, doing some laundry and all the other chores necessary for life on the trail. I also used a rounded river rock to help roll out some of the knots in my muscles–strangely effective and very painful. Using my phone as a camera is definitely taking a toll on its battery. I had to charge tonight, already! I think the trail hunger is starting to set in: i devoured an absurd amount of couscous. I’m also seeing progress in my flexibility; stretching every night has done wonders.

PCT SOBO 2021 series: Mile 80.7 to mile 97.1 (17.4 mi today, avg 12.52 mi/day, 137.7 mi total, day 11): Sun July 11. Today was a very good day. I hopped out of my tent into the warm morning air after 6am, used the campground facilities and packed up to head to the lodge deck to charge my phone again while I waited for everyone else to show up, the restaurant to open for brekky and coffee, and the 8am bus to arrive. Already overheated, i jumped in the lake to cool down. Yoda and I were the first people there, followed by Bombadil, Ginger, ChiliMac and Alan. Brekky to go was tasty, 2 eggs overeasy, hashbrowns, 4 pieces of toast and bacon (my appetite is increasing–a week ago I wouldn’t have been able to finish). The red bus ($8) packed people into every corner, and actually called a backup van to pick up the stragglers. We stopped at the bakery and all the thruhikers loaded up on goodies. Yoda paid for my cinnamon roll, spring rolls with peanut sauce, and big slice of pizza because I had left my trail wallet in the bus (I had given him a bunch of my hiking food, so I think we might be even. He wouldn’t take a Venmo). The 6 of us poured out of the bus at the High Bridge campground and got ready to hit the trail after too long off of it, taking pics and exchanging contact info as well. Yoda stayed behind while the other 5 of us set off a bit behind the Be Positive Group (as M-8 and Snowcone’s 6 ladies are known). We hiked together for a bit, eating huckleberries and thimble berries while they asked questions about local plants. Then we slowly started finding our paces, and spread out along the trail. Ginger brought up the rear (although presumably Yoda was somewhere back there, but we sadly didn’t see him the rest of the day), then Alan and ChiliMac, then Bombadil and I at the front. His pace is even faster than mine, but he stayed just behind me all day so we could get to know each other. He had lots of interesting stories and views about life, and is a good listener, so I had a really good time, especially since having someone to talk to takes the mind off of the foot pain and the miles. We played leap frog with M-8, Scooper, Swatter and ChiliMac and Alan all day, stopping to eat and put it get in Glacier Creek and having everyone catch up eventually before we all filled back into trail. The heat and humidity was intense, the fires were out and biting, and the day was wonderful and full of new friends. By the early evening, we were following ChiliMac and Alan up up up. Some of the water falls we saw were so magnificent and went forever up the mountain, we just paused to experience them. We made it out of the dense brush only to see Alan putting his shoes back on at the other side of a deep river with no rocks to hop across or logs to walk on. So off came the shoes and up came the pants and the backpacks got unstrapped and into the glacially cold water we stumbled on sharp rocks and numb toes. On the other side we walked barefoot, looking for a dry place to sit and put our shoes back on, but only found the biggest snow field we had yet seen on trail. Bombadil took off running across the snow, clearly having fun and freezing his toes off at the same time. I made it a couple of steps before I realized I probably wouldn’t be able to get warm again if I did what he was doing, so my shoes came back on while I watched him trying to do the same on the other end of the snow. The trail got lost under dirty white a couple of times, but we found our way across and over streams as well, stopping often to enjoy the impossible view of the valley below and the mountains above. We showed up to the planned campsite and saw it was under water (snow melt) and dispersed to find dryer spots to squeeze our tents. Mine ended up in a tiny sliver of slanted ground that only held my sleeping pad, with the end of the tent draping over rock and bushes and tree roots. I enjoyed dinner with the best view of the trip so far, watching the sun go down and the alpenglow on the rocky mountains all around. Bombadil kept me company and helped me finish the giant cinnamon roll. I did a rather mediocre bear hang up the hill from my tent, did some stretches while the mosquitoes bombarded me, and got ready for bed in the chilly air

PCT SOBO 2021 series: Mile 80.7 Zero Day in Stehekin (3 mi today, avg 12.04 mi/day, 120.4 mi total, day 10): Sat July 10. {It’s 10:30pm, long after hiker midnight, so I apologize if I keep today’s update short, sweet and to the point. The sun took a lot out of me, just chilling and hanging out with people. EDIT: lol I literally wrote so much, guess I had a 2nd wind} I woke up for brekky at the Stehekin Valley Ranch, rolling out of the violently creaky bed to do my stretches on the porch. Food was a choice of eggs to your liking or french toast, with quiche, hashbrowns and bacon and sausage on the side (and cookies); all very tasty, and eaten with a side of friendly people who are curious about thruhiking and won’t let you stop telling your stories, even to shovel deliciousness into your mouth. Already almost late, I ran back to my cabin to pack everything up, assuming I’d miss the bus out and just have to shower and walk around for awhile, but Cliff the bus driver came over and made sure to wait a couple of minutes for me since he saw how close I was to ready. We stopped at the bakery and gift shop again, as well as the garden (a beautiful small scale agricultural business complete with goats and apiculture), and Rainbow Falls (impressively tall), before pulling up at Stehekin Landing. Here I parted ways with M-8 and Snowcone (although I’d see them a couple more times around town), and payed $5 for the sort of slow 500mb of internet access that the lodge provides. Plopping down at a table, I called David for a good long time (he checked Postholer.com for snow info), checked my messages and such, before getting waylaid by Ginger, ChiliMac (aka Connie), Alan, Owen, Yoda, Sway and Scooper. We spent the whole morning relaxing, eating ice cream and chatting. They helped me whittle down my absolutely massive stash of food from 9 massive days to 6 normalish (perhaps still too much food though) days; i stashed the extra in the hiker box after passing it around for anyone who wanted any. Everyone exclaimed with sadness over how few sweets I had (ahem my uber healthy boyfriend who convinced me to go with a better diet). I also ran to the post office at the last minute to ship home 4.5lbs of gear: ice axe, micro spikes, trekking pole snow baskets, camera, 1 pair of undies, R2 midlayer, stove, pot cozy, lighter, etc. I left my tiny bottle of soap, bug repellent cream, gas can, extra ziplocks and some other stuff in the hiker box. When I put my pack back on, even with 6 days of food, it was so light I felt like I was floating! I of course danced around happily to celebrate another step towards ultralight (I’ve now got to be close to 12lbs base weight, maybe even lighter). We moved closer to the lake as a group so that most of us could jump in and so Yoda could do laundry. Bombadil got nearly hypothermic because he jumped in and stayed in for too long too many times; he ended up wrapped in my 10° quilt in the blazing sun, and survived the event. At some point I decided I wanted to stay another night instead of taking the last bus out, and went to set up my tent in the Lakeview Group Campsite where there are bear bins and toilets, which is a “cruel joke from whoever built Stehekin to the thruhikers” (someone else’s words) because its up a massive hill and pretty far away from the main town (approx .5mi from post office). After moving around as a group trying to warm up and cool down and eat and everything else, we settled back by the lake on some lovely grass in the warm wind that had been making the lake choppy all day. Dinner was tasty $20 burgers (or an assortment of other grilled foods) at the lodge restaurant. As everyone filtered back to their tents in the dying light, I finished updating phone apps, checking email (a job offer! But it starts while I’m on trail :(( ), and generally winding down. Stretching and teeth brushing readied me for bed. Philosophical trail thought of the day: I wonder if early doctors (ie from the European middle ages or the US army doctors in the 1800s used bleeding as a method derived from ancient practices that saw a woman’s menstruation as a way of purification, and thought “if that works, so should this!”.