C. Dow LaFevers

C. Dow LaFevers

First Year Mathematics PhD Student at Rice University

Day 46

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Today was all work and little play. I caught up on my sleep and went to the legendary Erick Schat’s bakery for a huge breakfast—a pastrami sandwich on killer rye bread, pickles, a piece of shortbread, a croissant, a cinnamon roll, a buttermilk bar donut, and an apple fritter, all washed down with a ginger lemon kombucha. Then I had to hustle back to my motel room to check out since I needed to change rooms and this be homeless from 11 until 4. After this I did my laundry and went to go resupply with Roadrunner while it dried. My most expensive resupply, though it is for a pretty long stretch and I am eating almost 4,000 calories a day at this point. On the way back we stopped at the fairgrounds and sampled at least 15 varieties of goat cheese. I bought a slab of the stinkiest stuff he had to pack out tomorrow. After collecting my laundry I could finally re-check in, so I headed back to the motel burdened by clothes and food. After repacking my food and attending to other small chores, I went to go hangout with the rest of the big group. It was very low energy after the previous night’s partying, with many people even planning a second zero. We went to eat some Texas-style barbecue, after which I was far too tired to go to the first—and only for me—Mule Days arena event. Thus I went to my room and slept the sleep of the dead.

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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).