Several people in the local saloon yesterday were wearing a T-shirt that said “Straight Outta Packwood”. It’s a riff on the phrase “Straight Outta Compton.” But Packwood is a million miles from Compton in so many ways. Packwood lives on “mountain time” – a laid back devil-may-care attitude about what anyone should expect from you. There is a casual neglect of what most folks feel is important. It takes some getting used to.
I text Stan. His feet are back to normal, but his knee is still bothering him. He needs the Wander Women to tend him again and all will be well.
My food bag for this 5-day segment is enormous. I think I overdid it. I could have done without the mashed potatoes, the 8-oz block of cheese and the bag of mesquite kettle chips. I went shopping hungry, and we all know what happens then.
It was inevitable
I have arranged a ride to the trail with Sondra, whom I observed yesterday picking up a hiker in front of the inn. Sondra works up at the pass so she grabs a hiker when she can on her way up there. She is picking me up in front of the inn this morning at 9:30. I sit there waiting and talking on the phone to Patti when I hear someone say, “Doolittle?”
I almost drop the phone when I see Kristie of the Wander Women approaching. Annette and Lynn are close behind. Their unconvincing exclamation as usual is, “We thought you were three days ahead of us!” It is good to see them though. They are staying an extra day, so for the record, I am one day ahead of them. But they could pop up anywhere!
Sondra pulls up and I hop in. It’s one of those little Suzuki death traps that has room for a driver, a passenger and two packs. It has no roof and is open in the back like a Jeep. Sondra is super nice and we talk about how important people are even when they are all so different. She compares people to crayons. “It’s wrong to think that the world is just a 24-pack,” she says. “The world is at least a 64-pack.” She admits that not all colors are attractive. When a customer is ugly toward her at the lodge, she tells them that they are “shit brown.” I had not realized that Crayola had added that color to their crayon collection, but it’s been a while since I bought a set.
Sondra drops me off at the Kracker Barrel because she works across the street. There are so many hikers here now! Right away I see three that I know. Scavenger (the Elder) I met at the pizza parlor yesterday. He has a blog, too. I subscribe just to see how he does things. I also run into Opera and Tapeworm whom I first met in Shelter Cove. Shelter Cove turns out to have been quite important in the meeting of significant hikers.
A new hiker species
I walk down Highway 12 to the trailhead. It’s a 1200-ft climb up from the pass before giving up all that altitude in the second half of the hike. I meet a lot of day hikers with their dogs. I am expecting this – it is Saturday. What I don’t expect is this:
The first horse (the bay) has been on the trail before. The second one (the buckskin) is new to the trail. But according to her rider, she’s doing great.
This trail is the greenest of green tunnels. When the sun breaks through, the greens get even more intense.
The bugs are definitely here, but since I was warned ahead of time, I manage them. The issue is as you might expect: low altitude with a lot of lakes. It’s a lot like the area north of Shelter Cove.
After I pass another lake, I meet some hikers sitting beside the trail. One says, “These bugs couldn’t get any worse, could they?” I reply, “You have no idea.” They inform me that the rest or their group is up ahead. This is not unusual until they tell me who is in the group. I am very excited. Here is a hint as to why:
I charge ahead. Just when I think I have gone to far, I turn into a meadow and there they are.
It’s so wonderful. I have been looking for llamas since the very first day. Llamas have been an obsession since Sammy and I went to Peru ten years ago. Llamas are the perfect pack animal for this trail because there feet are soft like slippers. They barely leave a footprint on firm ground.
I try to get closer to them, but when I do, they freeze. I take this as a warning and stay where I am. Doolittle knows a thing or two about llamas. So does Sammy.
Precipitation
It has been sprinkling off and on all day. I am a little out of sorts. I have not hiked or camped in rain for at least six weeks. When I arrive at camp, I put up my tarp. It was a good move. As I write this, it is raining lightly but steadily outside. I don’t expect high winds, so I pitched my tent high. This should give me a little more headroom in the morning. As long as it doesn’t storm, I should be ok. Here is what camp looks like. I have some company. One has a hammock.
To make it to Snoqualmie by Thursday, I must hike over 20 miles per day. This is totally doable. I am focused on Canada. I have to walk to get there.
- July 31
- Starting mile: 2295
- Ending mile: 2310
- Daily PCT miles: 15
- Total PCT miles: 938
- Animals: 4 🦙 (llamas), 2 🐴 (horses)
Such a great story, Dave. Looking forward to the next installment!