Jizo, the Patron Saint of Travelers, Finally Comes Through

Sept 2: I took advantage of my new low-mileage schedule to sleep in until 8:30, and when I finally got, my tarp was wetter than ever. The irony being, of course, that I set it up hoping to dry overnight. Ha! It didn't rain overnight, but the condensation was absolutely awful, and while my tarp wasn't any drier, I was still felt fortunate that I set it up. Had I not, *I* would have been soaked.

Hui caught me as I was breaking down camp. He was one of those hikers who looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite figure out from where. Apparently I was more memorable, however, because he certainly remembered me, asking whatever happened to that dog Charmin and I had found on the side of the road. He was hiking with Shang-hi at the time, and that was the one and only time we had ever crossed paths.... until now! And if you guys still want to know what happened to that dog, I don't really know for certain what happened after it arrived at the animal shelter, but I'm optimistic that it's owner found him since the animal shelter doesn't seem to have any record of the dog anymore, and Dezert Ratty told me they think they might have found the owner. =) But details are sketchy, and I'll likely never have full closure to that particular story.

Hui and I hiked on and off together throughout the day, stopping for a break at Jizo, the patron saint of travelers. It was along Road 23 where many hikers often hitch a ride down into Trout Lake. We didn't do that, but a local monastery left a large trash can filled with trail magic. Hui and I stopped to enjoy the trail magic, and throw out our tarps and tents in the sun to dry out.

Hui bushwacks around this treefall.

The trail headed higher up Mount Adams, skirting around its flanks near the tree line. Views were absolutely spectacular. Mount Rainier dominated in the north, and Mount St. Helens rose in the west. The trail wouldn't go by Mount St. Helens, but I pointed to Mount Rainier. "I'm coming for you," I told the mountain. "You're next."

And of course, I was on Mount Adams, close enough to see the giant cracks in the glaciers and the dusting of new snow at the top from the rainstorm I suffered through the previous couple of days. It was one of those jaw-dropping views that photographs can never properly capture. I was in a pretty good mood. =) I pitied the poor hikers ahead of me who had to hike through this area in the rain. At least most of the time I was in the rain, I was also in trees and so I didn't miss a whole lot of views. The people hiking through here during that time.... they missed out big time.

This is Jizo. The register with the food cache explained:
"The small shrine above the food and trash cans is Jizo.
He is the patron guardian of: (1) travelers,
(2) anyone at a crossroads in life, and (3) children."

At Adams Creek, I stopped for a snack break and admired my handiwork. I helped build this trail. The river had washed out the trail, and I went out with the WTA and spend the better part of a week rebuilding this little section of trail from scratch. It was the first time I had been back since then, and I was anxious to see if the trail was still there. It crossed a river channel, after all, and who knows if it washed out in the subsequent three years with the spring runoff? But the trail was still there, every curve and bump exactly like I remembered it. And it's funny how many details I did remember. I remember one particular spot where there was a small, six-foot drop, and we talked about if it was too steep or if we should find a different route around that point for the trail, but we plowed through, and the trail still plowed through there. I remembered one particular tree that had fallen across where we wanted the trail to go, and it wasn't a very big tree, but it was practically buried in the sand, and we originally weren't going to do anything about it. A relatively minor issue, but I had finished up with other stuff I was working on and the others weren't done with a section next to the river, so I decided to pull it out. And it took me nearly a half hour, but I finally got that tree completely out of the way. The little rocks we used to line the trail were still there.

Hui closing in on Mt. Adams.

Every bump and turn in that short section of trail had a story to tell, and most people hiking by will never know it. They don't know who built the trail, when it was built, or what it looked like before it was built. And for most of the Pacific Crest Trail, that applied to me as well. Occasionally I passed work parties and stopped to chat with them, but most of the trail, I don't know who built them, or when it was built, or which parts were particularly problematic. But every turn the trail makes was decided by someone. Every bump that was left in the trail was decided by someone. The building of the PCT probably involved trillions of little decisions. Kind of remarkable it ever got done when one ponders it, and it's amazing to think what man-kind can accomplish when we put our efforts into it.

I'd have loved to camp out here on "my trail," but I still had miles to do. It was late in the afternoon when I arrived, but wanted to push on more, finally coming to a rest at Killen Creek where I found Em and Rising Sun already camped. From a distance, I could see several people camped in the area, but most of them had large, heavy tents that thru-hikers never used. When I saw Em and Rising Sun's campsite, I didn't know who they were, but it looked like a thru-hiker camp, so I popped in to find out if it was anyone I knew. And it was! Em and Rising Sun. Not that I knew them particularly well. I only met them for the first time the day Amanda dropped me off on the trail a few days before. But they were my kindred spirits. =)

After sunset, we all went to sleep, but I suffered a serious case of insomnia, tossing and turning and not feeling at all tired enough to fall asleep. The shooting pains that went through my left foot didn't help much either, and I popped a couple of vitamin I, but it didn't seem to do any good. I don't know why, but sometimes, at the end of the day, I get these shooting pains in one or both my feet. Perhaps once every couple of weeks. During the day while hiking, no problem. At night, after I got to sleep, pain. In the morning, it's like nothing happened. And strangely, it seems like it happens most often when I hike short days. You'd think hiking a long day might cause that, but a short day? *shrug* I don't understand it, but I have had to learn to live with it. Usually a couple of ibuprofen will take care of the issue and let me get to sleep, but it didn't seem to be working tonight.

Mount St. Helens. Hui and I hoped to see a small,
minor eruption, but alas, nothing....

I finally got out and walked into the meadow to do a little star gazing. The stars were absolutely stunning, far away from any cities, and the skies were completely clear. A few minutes later, Rising Sun came out and joined me, drawn by the red light of my headlamp. The red light threw him off--all hikers carried flashlights, but red? "Preserves my night vision," I told him. =) We talked for a couple of minutes, then he went back to his tarp. I stayed out for another half hour admiring the night sky before crawling back in under my tarp for the night.

I didn't expect rain overnight, but I set up my tarp for the same reason I did the night before: Hoping it would dry out, and if the condensation was anything like it was the night before (and standing in the meadow for that short while, I could feel condensation forming on me already!), it would keep me dry.

What a fantastic day for a hike!

Mount Rainier.... You're next! I'm coming for you! =) I should mention, I'd get a small thrill every time I saw
Mount Rainer--I can see that mountain from Seattle. Home. If Amanda were at home now, we could
be looking at the same place! So close... so close.... so close to home, so close to being done. =)
It wasn't until I got home and saw the photos that I discovered my camera was focusing on the trees in
the foreground rather than the mountain in the background. *sigh* Stupid cameras....

It's hard to tell in my photos, but there's actually a light dusting of fresh snow on Mt. Adams.
All the snow on the glaciers washes out the fresh snow in my photos, though.

I built this trail. Well, helped to build it, at least. =) I spent a half-hour
digging out a buried tree from the trail here.

Adams Creek

Meadow near Killin Creek with Mt. Adams in the background.

Waterfall near camp.

A Non-Typical Sunday Afternoon

As most of you know, I finished hiking the PCT a few months ago, but the blog posts continue. That does not mean, however, my adventuring has ended, and I'm squeezing in my adventures this past Sunday. It has absolutely nothing to do with thru-hiking the PCT. It's a bonus post, slipped into a day that otherwise wouldn't have posted at all. =)

The day started off with a bang. Or rather, a crash. It was 5:30 in the morning and I was dead asleep until the horrendous crash occurred. I tell you, nothing brings a neighborhood together like an early morning car wreck. I called 911 mere seconds after it happened, but it didn't do much good--by the time I got through, they already knew about the wreck and had sent emergency personnel on their way. I bundled up in a few layers of clothes and headed outside.

Wrecks happen with surprising regularly out here, at the bottom of a steep 20% grade. I've heard that it's the second steepest street in all of the Seattle. (Okay, it ties for second place. Apparently four or five streets in town have 20% grades, but only one has a 21% grade.) I even wrote about a motorcycle accident that happened at the same location a few years ago.

The car was in pretty bad shape, having sheered through the base of a utility pole. Two individuals were in the car, and the driver wasn't responsive. Within minutes, dozens of rescuers had arrived--police, firetrucks, and two ambulances, but the two individuals were stuck in the car. A group of firefighters swarmed the car like bees around a beehive. (With all their yellow coats, they almost did look like large bees swarming around a hive.) They used the Jaws of Life to rip open the passenger door and get the passenger out. The driver's side took the brunt of the impact, and the cut off the top of the car to get to the driver, finally extracting him. A wave of relief seemed to rush through the growing crowd when we saw the driver lift her arm--she was moving! There were no fatalities! Not yet, at least!


I'm kind of hesitant to call them 'victims' since we could see an opened bottle of whiskey in the front seat and they were clearly driving way too fast if they could sheer the utility pole off at the base--at best, they were victims of their own stupidity. But for lack of a better term, let's call them victims. Once they were out and rushed to the hospital, the tension surrounding the accident scene dropped dramatically, and there was a lot of 'hurry up and wait' kind of attitude. The utility pole still dangled from the electrical lines, stretching all of the lines in every direction tight. It knocked out power to about 2000 homes and businesses, but ironically, the street light on the dangling utility pole continued to work.

The live electrical lines did their best to catch some trees on fire. We could see the branches where it touched the lines burning. It's probably a good thing this happened in the dead of winter. If it happened in the fall with the trees full of dry leaves, it probably would have burst into flames. As it was, the bare branches seemed to flicker with small flames, but never quite catching.


A truck from Seattle City Light (SCL) arrived soon, and turned off the power around it. The police and firemen wandered around checking stuff out. Eventually, Amanda and I grew bored of watching and went back to sleep. We took some pictures before leaving, but they didn't turn out very well since it was still dark out. I hoped the wreck would still be there at sunrise so we could get better pictures.

A couple of hours later, when the sun did start coming up, we went back out. The scene hadn't changed at all since we left. Investigators were on the scene, measuring distances, and taking pictures. I went inside quickly to get something and when I came back out, Amanda told me that one of the cops took out the bottle of whiskey and poured out the rest of the contents before taking it as evidence. As one neighbor noted, "There wasn't much he poured out."


We were out there for a half hour or so, watching the scene, before a tow truck arrived and whisked the totaled car away. Shortly thereafter, more SCL trucks arrived, one containing a new utility pole. Our power was still on this whole time, but once SCL went to work, they turned off our power for the next several hours.

By around noon, it was time for me to get going. I had plans for the day! Today was the day I intended to ride our light rail trail without any pants! When I left, our power was still off and the new utility pole had already been driving into the ground. The broken pole was aligned next to the new pole, and they were hard at work transferring and fixing all of the lines.


I walked over to the bus stop and rode into downtown Seattle and headed to Westlake Center. The rain turned to snow, then turned to rain again, then turned to snow again. Definitely cold out!

I met with Snowfire, her boyfriend, and her brother. Snowfire did this no pants ride last year. She had experience. She knew what she was doing. While I had never rode any mass transit systems without any pants, I did have some experience in hiking naked. =)


We stood around outside in the plaza outside of Westlake Center with a bunch of other people planning to take off their pants. I looked for Kuku, but we didn't see her. *shaking head* (I'm talking to YOU, Kuku!) The organizers were talking about what to do through a bullhorn, and wanted to wait a couple of more minutes for last minute folks to arrive. It was cold and raining/snowing, so Snowfire directed us to the light rail station. We could wait there, underground, where it was warmer. She'd done this before. She knew what she's doing.


I bought my tickets to the airport, and a light rail train soon pulled up. We let it go without us, though. Those fools waiting around outside hadn't arrived yet, and we wanted more company than just ourselves!


A few minutes later, the rest of the soon-to-be-pantless-riders arrived, and when the next light rail train arrived, we piled in. Standing room only. And the train started moving....


Nobody took off their pants immediately. The next stop came and went, then the first of the people started taking off their pants. I waited for another stop to go by. Figured I'd wait until after we got out of the transit tunnel under the city. A couple of guys standing next to me started taking their pants off, which was awkward because the car was so crowded, there wasn't a lot of room to work with. Frankly, I don't think we could have all gotten our pants off at the same time even if we tried to.

A few of the innocent people riding to the airport and had no idea what was happening seemed surprised and asked if this was a college initiation stunt or something, but we just shrugged and said it was hot inside. *shrug* And with each passing minute, more people took off their pants, surprising those innocents more. "You too?!"


When the two guys near me finished getting their pants off and I had more room to work with, I followed suit. And you know, it wasn't really a big deal. When nearly half the people on the train had already taken off their pants, I was starting to look more and more conspicuous for having pants on.


After about ten minutes, pretty much everyone who arrived to take off their pants had taken off their pants, and the few remaining people who didn't have their pants off just laughed, absolutely bewildered at what was going on. I overhead one guy telling his friend that he heard about something like this happening a couple of years before in New York City. And I thought, "Yeah, and now it's happening in cities all over the world. And if you were riding the subway in New York today, you'd have seen pantless riders there too." But I only thought that--I didn't tell him that. We were supposed to keep a straight face and act like nothing unusual was going on, so that's what we did. =)


Pantless riders started getting off at each of the stops, to wait in the snow in many cases for the train behind it. We didn't do that. First, it was cold outside. And second, Snowfire's brother actually had to go to the airport. We were multi-tasking. =) So as we got further down the line, the train became less and less crowded. By the time we arrived at the airport, we were a few of only people without pants left on the train. The people with pants actually outnumbered us, but we knew a lot more pantless people would arrive with the next train.

That's me on the right, next to Snowfire, who's next to her boyfriend.
Yes, I realize that my jacket is so long, that it looks like I'm not
wearing any underwear at all, but I am! It started snowing minutes
after this photos was taken. It was cold out!

Near the end of the line, one woman told us that she flew out to Seattle with a group of people who were taking a shuttle to the airport. She choose the mass transit option and was glad she did--she thought all of us pantless folks were hilarious and asked if it was okay to take photos of us--she wanted proof this crazy ride for her friends. Sure! Go for it!



We walked out to the airport from the stop, through the baggage claim, and left Snowfire's brother at the drop-off zone for passengers. We saw a couple of people without pants, but the masses had not yet arrived. Snowfire's brother put his pants back on--he was done with the little event and wouldn't be returning with us. We took photos, then started walking back to the light rail station as the snow started falling heavily. Good times!


We got back to the light rail station just as the next train load of pantless riders arrived, and they came out in droves. We jumped in where it was warm. Some riders stayed on, and the few who got out with us also got on. Before the train pulled out, the driver made an announcement that anyone causing trouble or yelling would get us booted off the train. It was rather insulting. Everyone was being perfectly courteous and friendly. Just because we weren't wearing any pants was no reason to yell at us. Jerk. The other light rail workers in the stations were perfectly nice and friendly and had no problem with all of the pantless people running around. Just our particular driver.


When we got back to the International District, we put our pants back on, and at Westlake Center, our little pantless adventure was over. Good times for all! =)


I decided to walk back home, and when I arrived, everything was back to normal. The new utility pole had been installed and the old one removed and all of the power was back on. Last I heard about the two victims of the crash on the 11:00 news was that they both suffered from "life threatening injuries," which I considered good news since it meant they weren't dead. (Remarkable considering the severity of the crash.) I also saw a small clip of all those "crazy" pantless riders taking over the light rail that afternoon, but alas, it didn't include any clips of us. The news folks must have been in a train behind us somewhere.

This was the only damage left from the car crash when I got back.

I can't tell you when the next crash will happen (I know more will happen, I just don't know when), but unless some other plans come up, I hope to ride the light rail without any pants again next year! =) Come join me! (I'm talking to YOU, Kuku!)

I'm always pushing the envelope! =)

The Laziest Day on the Trail

The WTA volunteers dry out their shoes and gloves
around the smoldering fire they had trouble getting
started. =)

September 1: It rained all night. Not a nice, friendly little drizzle, but an angry downpour that never let up, and when dawn broke, it still didn't stop. Few things are more dispiriting than a cold rain, and I got to thinking about my September 21st finish date, and I thought, "I can wait it out. Yes, I don't need to hike in the rain."

I still had to average less than 25 miles per day to reach the border. Surely I can wait out the rain. One thing about the Pacific Northwest, it might rain everyday, but it never rains all day! Certainly not in early September!

So I laid around under my tarp reading the Reader's Digest for a bit, until I had to pee which finally forced me out from under my tarp. I wandered over to the WTA group site and said hi, and they offered me breakfast. What a wonderful group of people. =) They cooked up an egg and steak breakfast, with a glass of orange juice--certainly a heck of a lot better than anything in my pack!

Rocks along the trail. They kind of reminded me of
Devils Postpile with those hexagonal shapes!

Today was Wednesday, their day off from working, but none of them were particularly pleased about the weather. A couple of them were thinking about going into town to dry their clothes. The trailhead they used to get to Junction Lake wasn't too far away. If the weather didn't improve, none of them were even sure they wanted to work anymore. The rain was as dispiriting for them as it was for me.

I didn't want to overstay my welcome, though, so I wandered back to my tarp and hung out under it reading the latest gripping stories from the Reader's Digest all morning. Around noon, I got up again and chatted with the others for an hour or so, telling them I planned to hike at least ten miles that day. I'm not sure they believed me anymore, but they certainly understood my aversion to rain. "It's only rained on me four times so far on the trail," I told them. Which was true. Twice in California, once in Oregon, and now once in Washington. I wasn't really counting today, though, since I hadn't actually hiked in the rain. Not yet, at least. I managed to stay pretty dry by not hiking.

The rain had stopped, but the trail were still wet and muddy.

The rain did start to lighten a bit, and by 2:00, it was time for me to go. Rain or shine, I couldn't take a zero day. And I finally started hiking at 2:30 in the afternoon. Miraculously, the rain had finally stopped! Tree snot was still dropping from the trees, but the rain had finally stopped. Whew!

Later in the afternoon, I even saw the occasional patch of blue skies and felt the wonderful sun.

I only hiked 12 miles today, setting up camp just past Big Mosquito Lake in a small meadow. It didn't look like it would rain overnight, and the weather forecast didn't call for rain overnight, but I set my tarp up anyhow. It was still soaking wet and I hoped it would dry if I set it up overnight. And if the rain did start up again, I'd already be protected.

Glad that was behind me. Rain sucks.

Late in the afternoon, the sun even peaked out for a bit. =)

I filled up with water here before stopping for the night.

Setting up camp for the night.

Raining Apple Pies

Amanda drops me off at the trailhead, knowing we
may not see each other again until Canada!

August 31: Almost as soon as Amanda dropped me off on the trail, it started to rain. And rain. And rain. Sometimes it was a hard rain, and sometimes it was a light sprinkle, but the cold rain never let up completely. The forecast called for quite a bit of rain in the near future so I traded out my homemade umbrella for a small, real one. It was a bit heavier, but I also didn't have to go around looking for sticks to make it work. As long as I was using the umbrella, I'd take the extra weight!

But the rain still soaked me through, and I pretty much hiked with hardly a rest. It was too cold to stop. I caught up with Rising Sun and M (Em?--not really sure how he would spell his name) at a bucket of trail magic a couple of hours into my hike. I knew someone (or someones) wasn't far ahead of me because I could see fresh footprints as the rain started. The prints were dry, but the ground around it was damp from rain. So I knew they were ahead, and finally caught up with them at a food cache. I'd never met them before, and Rising Sun seemed stunned that I was wearing nothing but a short-sleeved shirt, asking if I was cold. "Yes! That's why I can't stop for long! As long as I'm hiking hard, I'm fine!" =)

Look at that beard growing in!

I kept hoping for relief from the rain, just long enough to dry out a little and find a place to set up camp while the rain wasn't coming down. I passed a couple of pretty lakes, and I saw some hikers camped nearby including a roaring campfire. How they started that fire is a mystery to me--it had to have taken some serious work to get going! It was tempting to stop and try to cozy up with them at the fire, but the tents were large, bulky things that suggested folks out for a short trip. They weren't thru-hikers. Not that I have anything against non-thru-hikers, but I was also hoping to find some friends somewhere along the trail and I wouldn't know any of the non-thru-hikers.

And, I really, really wanted to reach Junction Lake. Today was the last day of the Hike-a-Thon. The evening before, I was studying maps and trying to figure out where I would likely get to this evening. Normally, I'm not one to plan so far in advance, but I'd been keeping a mileage log of my hike for the Hike-a-Thon, and I was going to leave the paperwork with Amanda to turn in for me. I still had to hike, after all! But what do I put for August 31st? It would have been nice if I could call Amanda at the end of the day, tell her how far I had hiked, and she could fill out the rest of the form for me, but cell phone coverage out here was not exactly reliable. So I made an educated guess to how far I'd likely hike: Junction Lake.

There weren't many views along this section of trail.
Too many darned trees. But the trail was fairly
easy, so at least it had that much going for it. *shrug*

I knew I could stop before then. If I did, though, the amount of miles I claimed to have hiked for the month would be overstated. Something like 780 miles instead of the 775 miles that I really hiked. Somehow, I think the WTA would forgive me for accidentally claiming five extra miles. But I really wanted to be honest, so I really, really wanted to reach Junction Lake. So despite the rain, despite the alluring campfire, I pushed on, cursing the miserable weather the entire time.

The trail soon passed another lake, with tents scattered all about. I was a little surprised at the number of people camping in such miserable weather in the backcountry, and on a weekday no less! I was closing in on Junction Lake, though--I figured it was only another mile or two ahead--and hoped it wouldn't be quite so busy with people.

The trail went past a large group of people under a tarp, seemingly cooking dinner, and I couldn't help but notice the hexagonal-shaped structure it had. It looked familiar to me. I'd seen that tarp setup before, when I did some volunteer work for the WTA a couple of summers before. I took a closer look inside the tarp, trying to verify my suspicions, and saw bear boxes designed to be carried by horses. I haven't seen these things very often. In fact, the only time I'd ever seen them before was when I did volunteer work with the WTA. They loaded them up with food, hung one off each side of the horse, and packed them up there. We'd also use them as stools while eating or cooking. And these people had those exact same bear boxes. I was pretty sure this was a WTA work party!

The flash on my camera really makes those
raindrops "pop," don't you think?

I have a special fondness for the WTA, and I couldn't walk by without stopping. In fact, it was entirely possible I could actually know someone who was there! So I poked my head into the tent and ask, "Hey, is this a WTA work party?"

They almost seemed surprised that I even knew what a WTA work party was, but yes, they were a WTA work party. "Oh, man, I just LOVE you guys!" =)

I didn't recognize anyone at this work party (drats!), but I introduced myself anyhow and told them I'd done a couple of those week-long work parties in the past. The regulars there asked about where I had worked and who I had worked with, so we started swapping war stories. I may not have known anyone from this work party, but we did know some of the same people which was just as fun to talk about. =)

The leader of the expedition, Taylor, said that they had some extra food for dinner if I wanted to stop. Oh my God it was tempting! But I told them I wanted to get to Junction Lake for the Hike-a-Thon--to raise money FOR THEM!!!! =) Already gave the mileage reports to Amanda, already on its way to WTA headquarters in Seattle, and so I really wanted to get to Junction Lake.

They looked around at each other, until one of them told me, "You're at Junction Lake!"

What a miserable, wet, downpour.
I was hating life at this point!

"I AM?!" This was a delightful piece of news! I still thought I had another mile or two to go before hitting Junction Lake. I hadn't been checking my maps much at all because of all the rain--I didn't want to ruin them in the wet, so I had only checked the maps two or three times the whole day. I must have been hiking a lot faster than normal. Or, I realized, I was taking a lot fewer rest breaks than normal. Yeah, that was it. *thumping head*

But I reached Junction Lake! And there I found a WTA work party offering me real food, and hot food! Sweet! "I love you guys!"

By now, I had been stopped for about five minutes, and was getting so cold my teeth were chattering. I could barely talk without stuttering. Now that I had reached camp for the night, I needed to get out of those wet, cold clothes ASAP. I swapped out my shirt for a dry one, threw on my fleece layer, and a shell over that. It would take awhile to warm up again, but nothing that a hot meal can't cure. =)

They suggested I set up my tarp before it got too dark, and I agreed wholeheartedly with that suggestion. Problem was, they took all of the campsites in the area for themselves, but one of them offered to share a space with me. He marched me off to the location, and I set up my tarp. I left my backpack back at their kitchen, only bringing the tarp to set up.

One of the road crossings along the trail.

They fed me dinner. My journal fails to state what it was they served, and now I've forgotten. Seems like maybe it was spaghetti or something? As good as the dinner was, though, I filled nearly an entire page of my journal writing about apple pie. After dinner was over, it was time for desert, and they had an enormous apple pie, picked up at Costco. If you've seen their pies, you know how big these things are. They're huge!

And the whole group of them could only manage to wolf down about 3/4 of the pie, and looked about ready to throw the rest of it away. They had too much food with them--it seems that a couple of people dropped out of the trip at the last minute--so a lot of their food was going to waste.

"Give it to me," I told them. "I can eat the rest."

They didn't think it was possible, but wanted to watch me try. =) It's only a 1/4 of the pie, but that was practically the size of most full-sized pies. I'll admit, I had my doubts if I could eat it all, but I was certainly willing to try, and I was pretty sure I could make room for most of it.

They gave me the bottle of whipped cream, and I piled that up high, then dug in. If it wasn't for the rain, this could very well have been my best evening ever on the trail! =)

The first part of the pie I ate pretty quickly, but I started slowing down considerably after that. I kept eating, but considerably slower. Eventually, most of the party started going off to their respective tents for the night, and I chatted a bit with Taylor who dreamed of someday doing his own thru-hike. "Don't do it, man! This is what you become!" I told him, jokingly, and shoved another fork of pie in my mouth.

Then Taylor was going to head off to bed, and I didn't want to stand around eating pie by myself, so I finally cried uncle and threw the rest of it away. It was mostly crust, and not even enough for one serving anyhow. But technically, I failed in my mission to eat the whole thing. But damn, it felt good to try! =)

That's a heck of a lot of apple pie for one
person to eat.... but I was willing to try!

I wandered back to my tarp, and actually had trouble finding it in the dark. Took a wrong turn at one point, and the terrain didn't seem to match up with what I remembered. "Just great," I thought, "I'm going to die out here in the rain because I can't find my stupid tarp." Well, I wasn't going to die. I could always go back to the kitchen if push came to shove.

I figured out where I went wrong, though, threw down my ground sheet, pulled out my sleeping bag, and went to sleep. It was a miserable day of hiking, but what a fantastic group of people to meet up with at the end of the day!

If you're interested in reading about those work parties I did with the WTA, they're still online. The first was Mount Adams and the other was in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. I haven't been back to either of those locations since I did those work parties, but the PCT runs past both of them, and I was anxious to see how they looked all this time later. =)

Please Excuse Our Technical Difficulties

Bridge over troubled waters.... Actually, the water
looked quite pleasant, as was the bridge. =)

I don't know what happened with that last post. I wrote a masterpiece of a post--finally discovering and explaining the meaning of life. It was an in depth discussion, and it was going to shatter the world, but Blogger put an end to that plan. I guess they deemed it too controversial and deleted the good parts, leaving everyone with nothing more than a mysterious bag of water hanging on our porch at the Sandhill Cottages in Carson.

Unfortunately, I've lost my notes from that day, and my solution to the meaning of life is gone. It took me 35 years and 10,000 miles of walking to get to that solution. Damn. It might take me another 35 years to figure it out again. *sigh*

It is amusing to note that a single photo of a plastic bag of water garnered more comments than any other post so far!

So, in a nutshell, this is what else you missed in that post:

August 29: Amanda frantically driving around trying to find a place to make copies, fax stuff, and do a lot of paperwork because she unexpectedly got an offer on her house in North Carolina after the better part of a year trying to get rid of it. That ended up leaving me with only enough time to hike for about three hours, none of which was particularly noteworthy.

Amanda was near. I could sense it!

August 30: I didn't hike at all. Figuring if I averaged 25 miles per day to the border, that would put my finish date on September 19th or so. Amanda checked her schedule and said if I finished on September 21st, she be off of work and could pick me up. So I said, yeah, I could slow down and arrive at Manning Park and the end of the trail on September 21st. Should be easy! I just needed to slow down.... And I now had an official finish date to shoot for! September 21st--the day of reckoning.

To celebrate, I took the day off from hiking. It looked like it was about to rain at any minute, and I needed to slow down if I was going to reach Manning Park on the 21st. So I wrote blog entries all day and bought food to mail ahead to myself at White Pass, Snoqualmie Pass, and Skehekin.

And that was that..... I'm really sorry about losing that whole meaning of life thing, though.

Trail magic during my three-hour hike. Not much, really. Amanda left an ice chest. =)

Not many views in these parts.

Yeah, that bag of water. We didn't know why it was there at the time, but we did some Google
sleuthing later and figured out it was supposed to repel mosquitoes. We determined that it
actually seemed to attract them instead! =)

Another Double Header!

Me: "Why is there a bag of water hanging on our porch?"
Amanda: "I don't know. I just don't know...."

Happy New Year!

Much of the area along this stretch
of trail was ugly clear cut.

Just to celebrate the new year, I'm giving you a double feature--two trail days in a single post! Yeah, okay, I'm combining the next two days mostly because there's so little to write about.

August 27: I woke up to a beautiful sunrise, but couldn't enjoy it much through the thick canopy. The hiking was mundane, with steep climbs and drops--an annoying change from the relatively flat hiking of Oregon. This first part of Washington certainly isn't an agreeable welcome.

In the afternoon, I reached Trout Creek, crossing over a bridge with "I ♥ Green Tortuga" written in chalk. Amanda! And just on the other side of the bridge was Amanda sitting outside of her car ready with trail magic for any passing hikers and to meet me. No hikers had passed by, not yet, at least, but I was happy to help myself to some of the trail magic myself. I'd only hiked 18 miles so far today, though, and decided to get in a few more miles before calling it quits.

I told her that I wasn't aware of anyone close behind me and that she probably would not have any trail magicing opportunities. She told me that she saw one thru-hiker crossing on Bridge of Gods, who looked positively scared to death clutching at the railing like his life depended on it. She didn't recognize who it was, though, but at least I knew there was one hiker a day behind me.

This area had been clear cut a couple of
decades ago and is still growing back.

I gave Amanda my pack and switched it out for a smaller day pack, then slackpacked another three miles to Road 54 (Little Soda Springs Road). Signs had been erected saying that no parking was allowed, and Amanda wrote in chalk on the road that she'll check back to pick me up since she wasn't allowed to park nearby.

So I sat down and waited for her. I waited for about 15 minutes before she drove by and picked me up off the trail for the day. Then we headed off to the small town Stevenson, checked into a motel, and I cleaned up. =)

August 28: When I called Amanda from Cascade Locks to figure out exactly where we would meet up on the trail, she told me that there was a letterboxing gathering--a large one--happening in Battle Ground that Saturday, just north of Portland. Actually, it was a weekend-long event, and Amanda asked if I'd be interested in going. I didn't even have to think before I blurted out, "Absolutely!" It would be wonderful to get off the trail for a day--my first zero day since California. A change of atmosphere would be awesome, and Battle Ground was practically right around the corner from where I was on the trail.

So we woke up that morning and headed to Battle Ground where we spent the afternoon with letterboxers--a decidedly strange group of people, but who smelled considerably better than the thru-hikers I usually hung out with. =) I think most people were surprised to see me show up, thinking that I was still on the trail. Well, I was still hiking, but most people didn't realize that I was nearby since by blog by then was so far out of date. I was still hiking through the Sierra snowpack on my blog when I arrived in Washington.

One of the few places with a pretty decent view from the top of a dramatic cliff. =)

Amanda was near. I had a sixth sense about these things.... =)

Unfortunately, Amanda couldn't park here to wait for me, so she left me a
message in chalk on the road saying she'd check back later. So I sat down
and waited.

Amanda and I came back through Cascade Locks on our way to the letterboxing gathering.
Here I get a photo of me with the Bridge of the Gods in the background.

A closeup of the mural under the Bridge of the Gods.

Happy SAHD gives a presentation on letterboxing etiquette.

Kuku works on solving a cipher. At least I think that's what she's doing....

Camp Fire Lady peddles her wares. She seems awfully perky.... =)