September 8, Day 127
27 miles [2598.8]
Had a hard time falling asleep which is rare. The threatening rain had turned to wet clouds, we hit the trail around 7 A.M. and I ate a Probar. Very long but not exceptionally strenuous 20-miles uphill to Rainy Pass was easy enough. Elon’s interview was a pretty fun distraction. Had a cool and quiet lunch break before the pass; peanut butter on day-old biscuits and jerky with Nutter Butter dessert. Drank caffeinated Mio like I was dehydrated in the desert. Met “Skaggit Ed” at Highway 20 and he had magic. He handed me an IPA and some amazing fudge. Did a few miles with “Panda” before the pass. It’s another cold night, there’s snow in the forecast. I’m not worried, rain is by far the hardest challenge. Cooked a jambalaya as best as possible and followed it with a Snickers. Started a list of things to do at home before moving to Colorado. Trail was quiet today, didn’t see many people. The end is on the tip of my tongue.
Cutthroat Pass.
September 9, Day 128
24.7 miles [2622.0]
Brisk morning, rolled out close to 8 A.M. and headed for Methow Pass, shoveled Mojo bars into my mouth like coal into a locomotive. Harts Pass is closed northbound for a few miles which makes this our third reroute (I think). Listened to The Avett Brothers interview for the fourth time. It was cloudy all day and threatening rain, a typical sight. Spam and cracker lunch just as it began to drizzle but fortunately it never developed any further. Saw “Panda” and his pops at Hart Pass and learned his real name. They spoiled us and he let us raid all his extra food supplies, we took chicken and candy. Leapfrogged “Butters” and “Hot Mess” and I finally remembered their names without having to ask again. Man, I think we first saw them in the desert. “Shocks” and I smooshed our tents together and cooked in between the vestibules—chicken and noodles. I’m so unbelievably close to being finished: I want it so bad and not at all, at the same time.
September 10, Day 129
~25.1 miles [2644.3]
It’s my last night on trail. I woke up at 4:45 A.M. to light sounds of rain, like the crackling of fading fireworks. Tossed and dozed for four hours and finally got the gumption to pack. It was drizzly and wet most of the day, I spent the first four miles in the puffy and rain jacket, I was actually cold. My pants soaked up all the moisture from the overgrown brush. Kept putting one in front of the other, I ran out of podcasts and music long ago. Saw “Panda” one last time, saw “Brownstreak” one last time; they’re headed back to Harts Pass. Saw quite a few people I’ve met over the past few days but never took the time to officially meet and learn names. My hands were numb most of the day, feet pruney from wet socks. It’s currently raining and I need to pee. Tomorrow, I will become a thru-hiker. It’s taken over a year and more than what I spent on my car, probably 3,000 miles and almost more nights camping in a tent than my entire BSA career. There’s so much more to do, I’ve only just begun.
September 11, Day 130
16.3 miles [2652.6]
“Shocks” and “Tiny Slice”, PCT northern terminus.
My last cold start. Woke up, wide awake, at 4:30 A.M. thinking about the last day. Put on all my layers once again and got moving. My knee panged throughout the night and hiking certainly didn’t improve my condition. In some weird turn of events it was the only thing I could concentrate on. Less than nine miles to the monument and then I saw it—and felt nothing. When I went to pen my name in the log book I was trembling, my entire body welled up like I was going to implode—I made it. Celebratory joints with “Beehive”, “Cray-nip”, and “Feather”, “Shocks” surprised me and pulled out a small bottle of Jack. Also at the terminus was “Roadrunner”, “AutoPilot”, and “Colonel Sanders”. Everyone congratulated each other sincerely, we are the only ones who know what we went through. Time to leave, no sense in lingering it seemed. Hike to Manning Park was rough, I limped the whole eight miles. Got to the cafe and drank the as-advertised free coffee with as much cream as they would bring me. Hardest hitch was the final one, but after an hour of looking hopeful on an international highway near a border, Ramayaan was our savior and picked us up and drove us to Coquitlam, more than 100 miles. Starbucks for internet and a quick and dirty A&W burger (not worth it) before we figured out a metro train into Vancouver. Mistimed our transfer train and it took us a few tries of hopping off and on to figure it out—it’s so much easier to correct your mistakes at walking pace. No hotels, so we bought a 6 A.M. flight on our phones. After walking an extra block since we couldn’t remember where we got off, we took the last train into the station. Bought a Canadian Wendy’s burger and set up a makeshift camp in the lobby and got our packs ready for tomorrow. Today? It’s 2 A.M.; I’m a fucking thru-hiker.
The border.