C. Dow LaFevers

C. Dow LaFevers

First Year Mathematics PhD Student at Rice University

Day 65

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Today was a weird day. We woke up late (7:30!) and got breakfast among the plethora of motocrossers. We got back on trail around 9:45 (!!!!!) for my latest start ever. I ignored the ominous clouds in the distance as I marched towards I-80, feeling low energy and kinda crappy from the enormous breakfast burrito I housed.

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After a poop stop at the oasis, we sallied forward under more dark skies. We made it up the first climb and began descending into a beautiful bowl at the basin of which lies the Peter Grubb hut, the first lodge thus far on the PCT. At the same time we began to be pelted with graupel. The snow abated when we got near the hut, so we stopped for a quick snack before the next climb. Unfortunately, this cooled us off (the air temperature was in the 30s) just in time for the real snowstorm to hit, this time with lots of thunder. Instead of hiking on, we hunkered down in the hut’s woodshed, eating lunch and waiting out the snow. After about two hours of this we caved and booked the hut for the night via phone, enabling us to warm up by the fire and dry our clothes. This meant a very short day, only eight miles to end at Mile 1161.9, and that I would miss Roadrunner in Sierra City, but we had a very pleasant and warm afternoon at the hut so I really can’t complain. Tomorrow another thirty plus mile day to get to town!

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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).