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Stehekin to Manning Park, Canada
Monday, September 18: Six Mile Camp — 11.4 + 2 miles (2580.8)
A good dinner and good breakfast almost made up for a nearly sleepless night last night. It was windy and hot, a bad combination. We walked to the bakery this morning, bought bread, sweets and a slice of pizza for lunch, and then caught the shuttle bus back to the trail. We had a bit of a problem finding the trailhead, thanks to a sign that pointed in the wrong direction, but eventually we got back on track, starting at about 12:30. It was cool and cloudy, with occasional blue “sucker holes” overhead and glints of sunshine. Jim and I saw a tiny rainbow over Lake Chelan as we walked the two miles to the bakery — a good sign? About five miles out we passed a small campground where we ran into Meadow Ed, a very well known PCT personality. He lives in southern California and spends the spring months meeting thruhikers and putting out water caches. Oddly enough, I had just remarked to Sly that I was sorry we had not met him down south when we passed through Kennedy Meadows, when we came around a corner and there he was. We sat and talked for quite a while, then reluctantly donned our heavy packs for another six miles.
The trail follows a river, rarely close, but near enough to see steep grey cliffs dropping down to the water. It’s very dramatic. The only other excitement was a short swinging bridge with considerable sway and very low sides. I usually like suspension bridges, but this was a bit much. We met about 15 backpackers, plus the crowd on the bus, for whom we were the day’s entertainment — “real PCT hikers.” Most were just heading for the Stehekin Valley Ranch, though a few were going on day hikes and a few were just riding the bus to see the valley.
We’re glad to be back on the trail, despite our newly heavy loads. It’s hard to believe we’re so close to finishing. This is the last section of trail. People congratulated us on nearly completing the Triple Crown (hiking the AT, PCT and CDT), but it all seems so unreal. We didn’t come out here to get a plaque. We came to explore the natural beauty of the mountains. But right now, Jim and I are tired. In some ways, I think we’re ready to go back to “normal” life, at least for a while, but I know we will also miss our “real” world out here. There is so much beauty in the mountains and the deserts. I find it hard to find beauty in the city, of any kind. Plus, I really hate living by the clock, and that’s so much a part of that other life. Living by the sun has its own problems, but there are usually a lot more options. If we don’t hike as many miles as we planned, no problem, we’ll do more tomorrow. Or maybe not, it really doesn’t matter. I still love hiking, camping and backpacking. I like the people we meet out here, at least the ones we’ve been able to visit with a bit. Many of the fastpackers won’t take the time to talk. I figure if they won’t take five minutes to say hello, then they aren’t usually worth talking to anyhow. I love the closeness Jim and I share. Before we started on the CDT, I worried that too much togetherness would put stress on our marriage. It hasn’t happened. We seem to be closer than ever. Thruhiking is a very simple life and a good one, despite the problems of sore feet, heavy packs, rain and sleet and very long mileage days. The challenges are mostly physical, and real, and much easier to deal with than the emotional complexity of city life. I’ll miss this life. We had a hard time coming to terms with the PCT, but overall, the moments of harmony more than make up for the frustrations.
Tuesday, September 19: Camp between Granite and Metnow Passes — 18 miles (2598.8)
It’s a beautiful day, sunny and cool. I was really happy to see the blue skies after yesterday’s clouds and sprinkles since we were told that the area north of Rainy Pass was spectacular. It is, and for once we got to see it. First we climbed gently through the trees along Bridge Creek, then we crossed the highway at Rainy Pass (our last paved road until Manning Park), then we climbed steadily up to Cutthroat Pass. It was beautiful when we climbed above treeline -- stark ridges, autumn colors, blue skies — beautiful! There are larch trees here, just starting to turn yellow. Odd, I’ve run into them in Pennsylvania and Montana and now Washington — such different environments. Our campsite tonight is high in a little valley, with golden cliffs above us. Most of the trail this afternoon was high and exposed and very beautiful.
We met a new thruhiker named Jake. He has very holey shoes, no socks and sleeps right on the trail every night. Different. We saw a bunch of dayhikers and some people camped with llamas near Cutthroat Pass. Best was meeting a trail crew using a come-along to move a big log into place for a bridge. There were partly volunteer crew (Audubon Society) and partly professional Forest Service crew. I didn’t tell them that I wouldn’t use their bridge when it was built — too narrow and too high. I’d rather wade the creek.
Wednesday, September 20: Camp before Harts Pass — 19.8 miles (2618.6)
We woke to the slithery sound of sleet on the tent. This despite the fact that at 10:00 last night there wasn’t a cloud in the sky! It rained off and on, but never very hard. We slept a bit late, then climbed to Methow Pass, then dropped down, down, down to the Methow River. Lunch was under a bush next to Brushy Creek. It was grey and damp, but not actually raining then, though it sprinkled off and on all morning. Mostly we were in the trees, though there have been several avalanche chutes that gave us views up and down the valley. The tops of the peaks are cut off by clouds, but it is still pretty with the autumn leaves.
After lunch we climbed above treeline and into the clouds. It continued to rain a bit, but was mostly just grey and gloomy. We could see little except a couple of fat marmots, changing into winter coats. Right now they’re tri-colored. It was a long climb with innumerable switchbacks. Occasionally the clouds would part and give us a partial view of red rock and green forest. For a while we walked along a narrow ridge. That was fun, even without a view. Descending a bit, we got a glimpse of the valley below. There was one arresting image of the ridge across from us, with white clouds behind the rocks, making them really stand out. Beyond was another ridge, with clouds behind it. It was gorgeous.
Late in the afternoon, the clouds finally cleared, more or less. We walked down a road to a campsite near a small spring. We can hear other people car-camping nearby. Sly decided to keep going another mile or two. I’m not sure whether or not he’s mad at us, and if so, why. He just left. Jim and I decided 19 miles was good enough for a wet day, and decided to take advantage of the water and picnic table. We actually built a fire in the fire ring. It’s something we rarely do, especially on our long hikes. But I was cold after being drizzled on all day, there was a big dead branch across the road, and it was kind of a celebration for being so close to the end of the trail. It rained again as soon as we started dinner, and soon put the fire out. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. More rain? Sun?
Thursday, September 21: Hopkins Lake — 26.1 miles +1 (2644.7)
Last night’s rain turned into snow by morning. There was just a dusting when we woke, but it was a preview. While I cooked breakfast, it began to snow in earnest. What to do? We packed up and walked the mile to Hart’s Pass, our last bailout spot. A dirt road to Mazama passes by there, and since there were several people hunting in the area, it would have been possible to get a ride to town, if we chose. Outside the ranger’s cabin there was a posted forecast that said that the next few days would be “clear and sunny, but colder.” We hoped that meant the snow would quickly end. It didn’t. Though it didn’t snow very hard, it continued all day. Still, accumulation was minimal, from a bare dusting to about 6” in drifts. It was pretty, dusting the plants and peaks. Everything stood out: the red leaves of the mountain cranberries nestled in a white powder, lightly frosted spider-webs, Queen Anne’s Lace, with a lacy pattern on the leaves to match the white lacy flowers, and white spruce, looking like a Christmas card. Most of the day we couldn’t see very far, but late in the afternoon the clouds lifted enough to give us some really awesome views of white mountains nearby. Someday we’ll have to come back and see what this section looks like. A lot of it was above treeline, and probably quite beautiful.
It was a busy day on the trail. Yesterday, all we saw was one runner; today we saw 16 people, eight mules, five horses and four dogs. The horses were a group of hunters. Two of the mules belonged to a trail crew that was actually plowing the trail. Different! The only wildlife we saw was several grouse.
We ended up going farther than planned. Because of the uncertain weather, we wanted to get beyond the section’s 7100’ high point, just in case it continues to snow. We’d hate to be turned back this close to the border! As icy as the trail was in spots, I’m glad we kept going. In the morning, the whole thing is likely to be an icy slide. We’re protected in the cirque around Hopkins Lake and out of the wind. Whatever happens tonight, tomorrow we’re going to Canada!
Friday, September 22: Manning Park, BC -- 15 miles +1 mile (2658.7)
We crossed the border into Canada at 11:00 a.m. There was lots of excitement, hugs, and smiles. Last night was very, very cold. We slept little as a result. But when we woke, the sun was shining, melting the ice on the tent. It was far from warm, but at least it felt warmer. We crunched on rime ice all morning. Late in the morning, we stopped to take a snack break. When we got up and went around a switchback, we discovered that we had stopped about 100 yards from the monument at the border. We took pictures, read the trail register hidden inside the monument, and headed into Canada. The day’s hike was easy, first downhill seven miles to the border crossing, then uphill for about 3 ½ miles over a ridge, then down to the park. There were a few nice views, but mostly we just walked in the trees. It’s funny how the passes in Washington are so well named. It was cold on Frosty Mountain, windy on Windy Pass, foggy at Foggy Pass and cloudy at Cloudy Pass. Only Rainy Pass wasn’t prophetic for us, but I think we just got lucky.
Created: Fri, 16 Jan 2004 Copyright © 2000-2009 Spirit Eagle
