Day 114

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).

The terrain out of Stehekin was tough: a 7,200 foot sustained climb over twenty five miles, mostly along Bridge Creek through a very exposed valley. The temperatures quickly soared above ninety degrees as in the previous days. There’s no sugarcoating it: this was brutal. Getting to our lunch spot along the river felt like wading through wet cement. When we got there, I stripped down and plunged myself in the river without second thought. I sat there for minutes, far longer than I can usually tolerate in the freezing glacial-fed waters of Washington. We lunched for longer than usual and left the spot full of trepidation. I actually felt scared heading out into the afternoon sun with the knowledge that the trail only got steeper from there. Miraculously, we entered a dense forest soon after lunch, so we were mercifully shaded until late in the evening when we emerged at Rainy Pass. We took a break to use the pit toilet and prepare for the last push to Cutthroat Pass where we planned to camp. Here we were showered with even more baked goods by a day hiker. Insisting that we take everything, I ate two big brownies and several chocolate chip cookies, stashing several more in my pack for after dinner. After climbing uphill all day, the final push to the ridge was pretty easy—the weather had cooled significantly with the sun setting, so taking my time to enjoy the alpine scenery made the last five or so miles go down before I knew it. The view from our campsite of the sunset and the corresponding alpenglow on the incredible massif to the east was incredible. This was without question the prettiest campsite of the entire PCT; I think we both cried. I wish the pictures came close.

*pronounced ‘crick’