August 19, Day 107
25.6 miles [2172.4]
Right before I turned out my light, a medium sized (only after seeing “Shocks’ encounter) centipede was scurrying around in my tent. Not terrible sleep considering the Woodstock vibes and creepy-crawlies. ALDHA provided a breakfast of bagels, schmear, and coffee, a perfect meal for soaking up last night’s booze. Headed out and over the bridge for a third and (hopefully haha) final time. Called Carter and spoke to Carly and Lee as well. I miss my Philmont friends. Way too much incline—11 miles and 3,500 feet worth—my pack is sincerely too heavy, I was hurting. Swamp-assed completely through my undies onto my pants. Dehydrated from yesterday’s beer-fest and felt gross most of the day. Made it to Three Corners Rock with “Sticky Fingers” and smoked a joint at the top. Powered through another 10 miles which turned out to be another 1,500-foot yo-yo. Felt things getting dark; I was tired and hurt and light was fading. Real down-and-out. Got to camp around 8:30 P.M. and had an expedient dinner with an IPA. Whooped, beat, thrashed, and damp. Washington is gorgeous.
View of Thunder Island from Bridge of the Gods.
Bridge of the Gods crossing into Washington.
Three Corner Rock.
August 20, Day 108
32.9 miles [2205.3]
Sloggy, long day which felt good at the beginning but I just wasn’t “into it” for some reason. Pleased to bust out big miles, anything over 30 still feels like a major accomplishment. Saw a 6-inch green slug, it must have been a banana slug, attempting to cross the trail. My gross-factor never turned to interest. Filled up at Panther Creek, the ferns and trees seemed straight out of Jurassic Park. Another 10 miles of uphill from 10:30-2 P.M. which sapped most of my morale, “Brownstreak” and “Sticky” were ahead for most of it. Lazy lunch break restored some energy. Passed by some magic spots which were fairly picked over like a barren hiker box. Drank some caffeine to combat the mileage. Between the Buried and Me’s Colors is still an amazing album, I head-banged like a lunatic to White Walls. Lots of green tunnel vibes, lots of smoke. Pushed to Blue Lake and made camp. Met “Avatar” and “Big Feet”. Tuna taco and got rid of my second beer, glad to have it gone.
Blue Lake, mile 2205.3.
August 21, Day 109
29.2 miles [2234.5]
First ten miles were a breeze, I averaged above 3.5 mph. Sort of psyched myself out for another full day of hiking, especially with nothing to distract me—I guess that speaks volumes. Moments of angst, but nevertheless, it was a good hiking day. “Shocks” mentioned he was having some stomach pain and I guessed it was TFG, but couldn’t be certain. Tried not to think about worst-case scenarios. Took breaks every five or so miles, then a great lunch at Trout Creek and he seemed relieved. Yesterday’s junglesque views morphed into decidedly more forested tunnels. Bushwhacked down a creek bed and met “Roadrunner” and “AutoPilot”, names I’d been seeing always two or three days ahead of mine in the trail logs. I offhandedly remarked about the Zia next to “Roadrunners” name; “New Mexico, it’s neither” and the three of us got to chatting while filling up water. A few degrees of separation later, “AutoPilot” told me her grandfather is Carl Gilmore—my WFR instructor from the Ranch, what a small fucking world! Picked either huckleberries or the largest blueberries I’ve ever seen, little gems of sweet-tartness. Ten-outta-ten staggering views of Mt. Adams just poked out of some burn area, we made camp in a small, lonely meadow. Ate dinner with our new friends though I don’t think I’m going to be at their same pace. Tuna taco with pepperoni and bacon bits, yummo. Fraught with nerves about the fire closures and impending, looming border closure. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, too.
August 22, Day 110
26.2 miles [2260.7]
A cold night which usually makes for easy sleep but my mind was awake, I don't know how that’s possible after a nearly thirty mile day. Woke to frost on meadow grass and on my tent and didn’t get moving until 8 A.M. Hiked the first quarter-mile in my puffy, all the while staring at Mt. Adams. Good God. I found myself understanding mountaineering on a non-verbal level, I want to summit harder peaks. Lot of angsty and wandering thoughts about trail closures, I had to stop and remind myself of good things: health, working gear, nice weather, ample food. Day progressively got better. Took lunch at Lava Springs and met “B”, a wild man who seemed more intent on living outdoors with his dog than hiking the trail. He had a fire going and I did a mediocre job of not letting it bother me. Mowed through a ton of food which is always good practice. Caught up to “Avatar” during a water fill-up and joked around, I haven’t seen many hikers this stretch. Camp is buggier than usual tonight. Swirling thoughts about turning 30. Age doesn’t signify much, just legal stuff (why did I write that?). Age doesn’t matter, just look at “Sassy-K”, she’s absolutely Living It; an inspiration for a floating soul. What a way to close out my twenties, more good things to come.