C. Dow LaFevers

C. Dow LaFevers

First Year Mathematics PhD Student at Rice University

Day 26

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We woke up at 5:30 in our wet little meadow for an understatedly beautiful sunrise which crescendoed just before 6.

nice

Soon after we began moving, we realized that we would now pay the karmic price for yesterday’s extravagance and pleasure with very demoralizing weather—fog limited our views to ten to one hundred feet in front of us, the wind blasted at us made anything but moving quite cold, and the lack of sun meant that our soggy sleeping bags from the night before would remain so for the coming night. Despite this, we maintained good spirits and stomped out the fifteen miles to the first water source by 11:30. We ended up spending an hour at this water source, a spigot outside a fire station, enjoying lunch (tortillas with peanut butter and either brownie chunks or kettle chips for me) and avoiding making our next move.

brownie

After amusing ourselves watching the firemen in training learn to sharpen their axes via the pedagogical methods used for fraternity-hazing, we got back on trail. We found ourselves pretty mentally tired—having only slept five-ish hours the night before. We took copious breaks during the five miles climb to our water source, and, after each taking a nap on the sandy shores of an unmarked stream, we decided to stop here for the day. Though it was only 4 pm, we still managed to walk 22 miles to end at Mile 485.7. This will give us good timing for getting into Hiker Town to siesta before our very exciting aqueduct night hike in two days. Below are the photos I took during the only sun of the day, a thirty minute interval after 10 am.

green

idk

nice

green

idk

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Day 117

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I don’t think I could have asked for a better birthday than today. I hiked through some of the most choice scenery on the Pacific Crest Trail (for the second time!), we were able to not only ride into nearby Mazama with the first car that passed but actually secure a ride all the way into Seattle for the following day, and I was able to enjoy a great dinner at the Mazama pub with Roadrunner and Free Bird! He slept in today, so he stuck around for the afternoon in Mazama at the Lion’s Den hostel. After an excellent shower at the hostel, I ran into Carmen, a woman traveling with her dog from Mount Hood to Banff on foot via the Pacific Crest and Pacific Northwest Trails, then hopping in their canoe and paddling the whole Columbia River! A truly incredible last day on the PCT.

Day 116

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It’s difficult to write about today because it was a very emotional one. I’ll try to just describe what happened. We navigated the several passes between us and the border with ease and excitement, leaving an eight mile downhill to the border. Since this would also be an eight mile uphill, we decided to drop most of our stuff at Hopkins Lake and travel with just water and some snacks to make the hike back a bit easier. While we were off trail setting our shelters up, we missed Free Bird, a realization I would have a bit later which made me sad, as I thought I wouldn’t get to say goodbye. The hike down was so fast, so when I turned the corner and saw the border monument, I almost didn’t believe it was over. After taking some photos, we climbed back up to the lake with no problems and went to bed.

Day 115

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The heat, though not as oppressive as yesterday, made today much harder than it otherwise would have been. We hiked with Free Bird for awhile, ran into a guy very casually running a fifty mile out and back from Rainy Pass, encountered my first mountain goats as I walked a ridge towards Hart’s Pass, and passed a crew filming a dramatic scene of a priest walking through a talus field. Getting to Hart’s Pass, where all northbound hikers must return after touching the border, felt pretty weird, as it was a physical signal that we were sixty miles from the end. Brushing this off, we walked three more miles and made camp. Tomorrow, I finish the PCT.

Day 114

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After the hottest night I have had on trail—I slept naked on top of a picnic table for maximum airflow—we boarded the bus to leave wonderful Stehekin. On the way, Steve regaled us with more stories, anecdotes, and apocrypha; some highlights: “the national park service didn’t plant those irises, Mary did,” “that’s the only gumball machine within seventy miles!”, “I always like to tell people about this creek.* It’s called Boulder Creek. So now when you’re down valley and someone starts a story with ‘so I was up at Boulder Creek…’ you can say ‘’go on I know where that is.’ A good thing to keep in your back pocket,” “now I already told you about Ed Courtney, that’s the older Courtney…,” “I always say ‘people who want to grow a garden want to grow one like Carl’s,’” “I challenge you to find a single tree in that stand without a dapple of sunlight on its trunk.” I love Steve, he really tickled me. He’s a man who truly loves his town’s history and people as well as its natural beauty. Anyways, we stopped on the way at the legendary Stehekin Bakery, where I bought three massive cinnamon rolls (my breakfast for the next three days), a slice of lemon cheesecake (also breakfast), a peanut butter cookie (also breakfast), and a carrot cake muffin (supposed to be breakfast, but somehow made it to lunch).