Well, this was EPIC. So many changes to so many plans, iterations, one after another. Both daughters were supposed to join for various segments and originally this was centered around the John Muir Trail on our hard-to-obtain JMT permit July 9 to 30. But all-recorded-time snow in the Sierras killed that plan. Isabella had a packed summer and we lost her time for the summer, but Whitney was able to flex and keep a week for us.
We ultimately settled on mid August to do a stretch in Oregon. We also heard more about PCT Trail Days that happens in mid-August at Cascade Locks, Oregon adjacent to the Bridge of the Gods over the Columbia River that draws thru hikers in from hundreds of miles in both directions (but tries to hit the peak of people passing through Northbound on a full thru hike). The next trick is getting the distance right as there are limited re-join points. We were able to base out of Bend for a couple of days in the middle at Ashley’s Aunt and Uncle’s home (Thanks Tim and Lisa!!!) and that left is to chose 160 miles from McKenzie Pass or 140 miles from Santiam Pass. We also knew we only had 7 hiking days with the family schedule at home, so the decision became clear – Santiam it was!
We drove south from home Friday evening (I think my 10th time driving south somewhere to rejoin the trail on this WalkAbout – I’ll figure out the stats eventually when I write the full recap.) Ashley found us a brand new (like open just months) hotel in Madras, OR called the Bunk House – great decor, reasonable price and sunrise over the mid floor breakfast buffet as we were up at 6am Saturday for a MAXIMUM meal to kick us off as we turned to long days of trekking.
By 10am, we were walking north from mile 2002 on the PCT, leaving our car for the week at Santiam Pass along busy OR Hwy 20. We started off through (surprise) a burn zone but the day wasn’t too hot, at least not compared to the middle part of our week. As we left the parking lot, we looked at each other: “Really, can we cover 140 rugged PCT trail miles in exactly one week, arriving in Cascade Locks before sundown on Friday through another PNW heat dome heatwave in the middle??” Spoiler: Somehow, we did it. And of course with the customary joy, bliss, crying, and suffering.
We shot for lunch on the shoulder of the craggy Three Fingered Jack, about 8 miles in. We said hello to a couple SoBo PCTers, shooting for the whole distance by November, just 2,000 miles to go :). And a pack of loud teenage backpackers. The teenager in our set gave them a light scowl and was antsy to stay ahead of them, which ultimately, we did. We heard rumors of blowdowns over this stretch but encountered few before lunch, and may have been a bit cocky in assuming it was an exaggeration. Shortly thereafter they started and it was a zig zag scrambling game. Much credit though to Oregon Trail volunteers as hundreds of trees had been cleared this season, evident by the fresh sawdust. It is a Herculean effort keeping the trail free of downed trees as the plentiful burn areas leave masses of trees ripe to fall over with each winter storm. This was little solace to Whitney who quickly found blowdowns annoying and was engaging in some light hiking pole tossing over bigger ones. As I was not-so-secretly recording a video, her pack caught on a branch and ripped out the bite valve on her camel back, spewing water, freshly refilled everywhere. She was not pleased. And despite all three of searching for 15 minutes, that valve was lost to the bramble and a future alien geologist’s find.
The day’s light was waning when we hit our minimum distance destination, Rockpile Lake, 14 miles in. Whitney was hoping we’d hit 18 (and I thought Whaaaaa, we started fairly late at 10am and her longest in life to date was the 16 we did last month, a sign of things to come…) Ashley’s feet were bothering her a little after putting some new insoles in her shoes, oops! Also a sign of things to come… But this first night, I was the one down for the count. After firing up our dual stoves and making dinner for us, I started a weird shiver and was grateful for the pack weight I dedicated to my chair as I had to sit. So, it was a trial by fire for Whitney to set up my Durston single person tent, a little tricky the first time, as I offered verbal advice. It was enough so she set it up perfectly and aced the rest of the journey.
Luckily I woke up the next day and felt much improved, a quirk of trail life. Our mission for day 2 was to push 20 miles and land on the shore of Russell Lake in the Jefferson Park wilderness, just north of the 10.5K foot volcano. First though we found our second breakfast spot 5 miles up trail, with wonderful views of the south side of Mt Jefferson. We were there around 10am and it was rewarding to semi-circle around the base of the hulking pile of andesite and dacite over the next 9 hours and make that shore of the lake with a picture perfect view of the glaciated north slope! However, we hadn’t done a full detailed review of each water crossing. The first (big one) Ashley and I had actually visited last month on the way home from Crater Lake in a bonus day hike, the low point for us today at 4,400 feet. It was named Milk Creek, but ran clear and was easy to cross on rocks. The next one however was fed by those glaciers and ran much higher in the evening, innocuously named Russell Creek. We were there about 5 pm and it was running FAST and filled with milky silt that made it impossible to gauge depth visually. I caught the crux of our crossing on video, a comedy with Whitney stepping up to her ankle after missing a rock and Ashley scaling the steep wall to try and find a better crossing up stream. She did not. So I crossed to make sure Whitney was set, back over and took Ashley’s pack across and then she powered through the raging flow with poles well-placed to keep her balance. Tears may or may not have been shed at this point, 17 miles in on day 2 and fairly extremely exhausted. But we made that camp and because of permits, closures, and the fact it was Sunday eve, we had this often overcrowded wilderness destination 💯 to ourselves, a classic moment of family wilderness beauty. And with still 2 hours of light to enjoy the mountain!
That night, sleep did not come quickly for me, but couldn’t have picked a better night. The air was clear, and the annual Perseid Meteor shower was in day 2 of its peak. Between midnight and 2am I had my head hanging out of the tent watching dozens of streaking meteors crisscrossing the skies over Mt Jefferson’s silhouette, with all the wonder of a child. May that feeling never fade! A reminder to me what the trail name Black Hole suits me as I never tire of the awesomeness of the celestial.
5am came earlier after my 3 hour nap, but I was still fired up for the day. Ashley’s feet were definitely becoming a problem with blisters on the balls of her feet and heels, which she tried to manage walking in socks and sandals with some moleskin, which didn’t help much. We had coffee/tea/oatmeal by the shore and then began our day with a big climb up to one of the high points of this section, over 7,000 feet with views back towards Jefferson that originally inspired Ashley to join me in my love of the PNW alpine majesty. It was a year after we met and our first backpacking trip which included a side quest to this saddle and view of this mountain, a place that was actually new for me at the time after some 35 years of backpacking (then). We also encountered on that trip, a lone thru hike on the PCT who has an impossibly small pack and a pair of filthy socks drying on the outside. How can they stay warm and fueled with so little I thought?? And now I get it… We descended to Brietenbush Lake campground where Ashley and I had stayed that summer, now largely an apocalyptic ruin after the 2017 Lionshead fire incinerated most of the nearby forest. That meant peace for us at second breakfast and then a VERY hot walk through exposed burned trees, as the leading edge is the 3 day heatwave struck, with temps in the valley above 105F and in the mid to high 90s in the mountains. Yes, we had as much water (and electrolytes) as our stomachs could fit.
Our short-term objective was Olallie Lake and a PCT renowned store that had survived the fire. We took a shortcut among several ponds that I’m sure had been glorious before the fire. Ashley was feeling her blisters, but we made it to the store, where they had a small supply of moleskin to bolster our dwindling supply! We met several thru hikers going both directions, including one who had ‘just’ 1,100 miles this season after skipping around (where I’ll be after this Oregon stretch), and another named Speedo from Australia who hadn’t skipped a mile including the snow-laden Sierras, likely to be one of the few who get every PCT mile in this season. The store, otherwise off-off grid had a solar panel supposed refrigerator and freezer and WOW, did we enjoy a cold Bev or three and donuts!! No swimming in the lake, a reservoir for drinking water, but soaking feet was fine which we did from the floating dock. A three hour recharge of the soul and body and dinner at a picnic table was just what the doc ordered. Looking at the mileage left to Cascade Locks, we did decide to push on for another 90 minutes and get a little higher for the warm night ahead. Whitney shared that she wanted to cowboy camp (no tent) at some point and so we did after getting in after 9pm and with a 4:30am alarm. We had just enough flat room for the 3 of us to sleep on mats using the Durston tent as a ground sheet!
The next day was one of those for the books. I think the title of this chapter is: Hiking in a Heat Wave. I don’t think it dropped much below 70 overnight on the shores of Jude Lake. We had a hot breakfast in the dark and were moving at 5:30am with the first tendrils of light. We wanted to try our first Trail Marathon (for all of us), not ideal in a heat wave with just 3 water sources. But, somehow we pulled it off. 6 miles in, Ashley was a walking disaster, trying to advance in sandals and socks and crying with each step. We stopped and came up with a new moleskin scheme and got her shoes back on. But already 2 hours behind, another 20 miles seemed unlikely. But we were saved by two things, a lot of shaded, unburned forest walking and our lunch at 15 miles by the one big water source, the clear and cold and ironically named Warm Springs River. As planned we took a full 2 hour break including an hour nap on the ground. Ashley’s feet hurt, but were doing OK. We resumed our walk at 3:30 as the heat faded just a bit, but had a 1,500 foot climb out of the valley, which we felt in every muscle fiber. Next stop was a horse camp with picnic tables where we could have dinner before dark. And along this stretch, Whitney hit 100 PCT miles, including the 30 miles she did in WA last month, wow! We stopped to celebrate this fun milestone for a few, having some needed laughter and smiles. We made that horse camp for dinner, 24 more miles in for the day. We somehow pulled from deep in the reserves to push 2 more miles to the southern shore of Timothy Lake, arriving under head lamp and clearing a flat spot for another cowboy camp. Turns out I cleared the spot next to an ant nest in a tree so I won sleeping next to the ants. I made a rock offering and only a couple crawled over us during the (short night). But trail marathon completed!
The next morning we just got up and out and decided to have full breakfast 3 miles along at Little Crater Lake (a cool 45 foot deep pool that was blue like it’s big brother, but nothing volcanic about it). We had no cell service during this 48 hour stretch but had been aware that we were likely to be passed today or yesterday but Karel Sabbe, Belgian dentist who is on track to smash the (supported) Fastest Known Time (FKT) on the PCT. As (Dad) luck would have it, when we later checked our picture time stamp and his GPS ping, we missed him by 6 minutes we turned off on this quarter mile side quest, bummer! Still, it was cool to be close to this history. He’s doing an insane 50+ mile per day average through the hot desert start in late June and still snow Sierras, now ramping up to over 60 miles a day. He actually slept this night just 20 miles from Washington, already 30 miles ahead of where we ended today! Human bodies can be pretty remarkable.
And we chose to rest a bit today, taking a hitch along busy OR Hwy 26 to Government Camp (with a woman from Portland who had been mountain bike camping for 3 days near Frog Lake) where we were fine with 12 miles for the day. We had an incredible pizza and beer at the Glacier Public House and then took the $2 bus up to Timberline Lodge, leaving the cinder sand 5 mile climb for another day. Given the massive exertion and 90 miles to make it here in 5 days, we checked to see if the historic lodge had a room – yep, just one with a king and twin bed and a SHOWER. The splurge for history was worth every penny and after 2 cowboy camps. Such a contrast. In fact we decided we need to coin a new English word for the impossible-to-replicate modern luxuries after 4 or more days completely out of civilization, exerting physically and mentally every waking minute. That shower, each bite of food, every sip of any cold, carbonated beverage. Then raise that to the power of dinner at the Timberline with Mt Hood framed above. A pork belly sandwich simply had never been so good and Whitney’s fave says it all in a picture I took (and shared on Instagram) at that moment. The room was warm as the heat wave wrapped up, but the fan was all we needed and we didn’t make it much past 9pm.
We woke at 6am to make sure to be down 30 min early for the all-you-can eat breakfast buffet. We met Clean Shave who had hiked all night to get to Timberline at 4:30am. And we made his day with 15 minutes until breakfast to shower in our room, more of my fav part of the PCT! He had covered 40 miles and we’d see him again at Trail Days where he’d finish his 2,650th and final PCT mile over 2 years – amazing!!
For another post, I’ll fill in more about this magic 50 mile push over 32 hours, but it includes our first on-trail Trail Magic for Whitney where we met the epic Hammer looking like he arrived straight out of 1967 from a Grateful Dead show, and carrying a beaten Osprey pack (like Whitney’s) instead of the more typical thru hikers pack. He stumbled by after we set camp on the middle night and kept going, maybe all night? We also met the Unicycling Unicorn and has custom Univan, filled with various shoes, at least 5 types of unicycles and a rumpled poster of Taylor Swift. So many good characters…. We pulled off a second trail marathon on Friday, Ashley fighting through the greatest pain of her life the first 8 miles, but then still running the final three after we took the Eagle Creek alternate and passed under the unique Tunnel Falls. At 8:30pm, we got a picture under last light at the OR entrance to the Bridge of the Gods. Then we found the PCT Trail Days kickoff party at full bore at Thunder Island Brewery, walking up right off the trail to a rousing cheer. I could see a the joy in Whitney’s face and was in awe of Ashley’s toughness as we were in a state of pure 💯 natural euphoria. We had two dinners each (a burger and salmon rice bowl for me) and enjoyed the dance party from above while we ate on the deck of the brewery. We could see the sea of over 600 tents on Thunder Island in the Columbia River and we were also happy to walk a block back after the party to the Best Western where my parents had arrived earlier in the day. It was so special to share another PCT moment with them, so instrumental to inspiring my love of the alpine that drove this crazy mission. And to see it manifest so completely in one of their grandchildren, most be as special to them as it is to me! We had a full day of rest at Trail Days the next day, a celebration of Thru Hiking with people riding with Trail Angels up and down the trail to spend this weekend (and many gear vendors) at the trail’s absolute low point, just 100 feet above sea level. Outside of the approaches to the river, I don’t think there is another spot the whole route below 2,000 feet.
I personally couldn’t ask for anything more than spending this day with my parents, wife, and daughter (with one small exception – I would have loved if my older daughter could have made it, but we’ll get another chance, I hope in October on a weekend bonus!). Sunday we said farewell to my parents and Whitney, who got a huge hug and much parental pride for her amazing accomplishment. I felt she’d be fairly well conditioned for her first Cross Country practice the next day as her freshman year at Issaquah High School formally begins!