I could barely keep my eyes open as I finished my writing last night. I fell asleep to the sound of rain on my tent and the welcome white noise of the Bumping River 30 feet away. It rained all night, but my tarp repelled it all. I slept better than at any time since I left home.
Stealth ops
But as I slept, sinister forces were at work. Twice in the early morning I wake to rustling sounds by my head. They disappear as soon as I hear them. I figure some little creature is checking me out. But there is more going on. As I opened my food bag later to retrieve my breakfast I notice a ragged quarter-sized hole in the side of the bag. My heart sinks. Now that I have a hole in it, food aromas can escape from it attracting unwanted visitors. I will have to repair the bag and get a new one as soon as possible.
I am not used to breaking down a tarp in the morning, and especially a wet one, so it takes me longer to leave camp. I am out by 6:30. Not great, but I have confidence that I can make up the time.
Foggy morning
The cloudy weather lingers all morning. The smell of smoke is in the air, too. I am entering the Rainier National Forest. Rainier is out there beyond the fog, but I cannot see it. It’s kind of annoying, but I try not to let it bother me. There is so much beauty at hand.
I ascend 1600 feet to 5700. The forests thin, but the fog remains. Sometimes it appears that the trail disappears into the sky.
A hiker that came into camp last night had surprised three elk in a meadow nearby. So I stop to scan every meadow for elk.
Flower parade
I admire the flowers here too The dim light and damp foliage seem to accentuate their color.
Friction
Something is not right. It feels like the inside of my thighs are chafing. This has not happened once in my entire hike. I look down there to see what the problem is. The crotch of my hiking shorts are in tatters. How did this happen? What can I do? These are my only hiking shorts. I take them off and put on a pair of wool underwear. Then I put my ratty duct-tape-ridden wind pants on over them. This seems to do the trick, but it can only be temporary. The pants make me sweat, and the shorts fit too tightly to walk in all day.
I like dogs. Dogs normally like me. This dog ran ahead of its owner to check me out. As I snapped this photo, it turned on me snarling as if to bite me. Then it ran back up the slope, looking over its shoulder at me the whole way. When I caught up to its owner, the dog did it again. It’s acted like I was threatening it, and it went into an aggressive pose too. This same thing happens at camp later in the evening when a dog the next campsite over started snarling and moving toward me as I talked to its owners. Do I have a weird smell about me? Am I cursed?
I check my map at 10 am. I should have hiked 8 mikes by now. I have gone 5! Yes, I have been stopping frequently, and changing my shorts took some time, but now I am way behind schedule.
My feet are burning, especially my toes. At lunch I soak them in the ice cold river. That helps. But my socks are threadbare and have holes. I have an extra pair, but they are meant for casual use in camp. My socks may be exchanged for new ones free of charge at authorized dealers, but a dealer did not exist in the last few towns. Now the sock have completely failed. They are threadbare and have holes.
What is going on here? My shoe is splitting at the toe bend. These shoes have barely 200 miles. They should be lasting 500 miles.
I blame myself, of course. I did not act decisively when I could have to address these issues. Now they piling up at the same time. And I am 70 miles from the next town stop.
Tactical maneuvers
I make an adjustment. I am going to camp early at Sheep Lake. I can try to fix my shorts and my bag. The socks I will replace with my casual ones. It can’t be any worse than the worn ones. I will get to bed early and make up the miles tomorrow.
I walk the next few miles in quiet concentration, concerned about these developments. The area between Dewey Lake and Chinook pass is really quite beautiful – filled with lakes, flower-laden meadows and high bluffs. It is lost on me unfortunately.
I make it to Chinook Pass. This is only a small section of the cars parked along the road.
Hundreds of people are on the trail with packs small and large. I am gong to Sheep Lake, just 2 miles from the Pass. The Lake is full of people, too. You can see them all along the far shore.
In camp, I cut some material from the liner leg of my shorts and lightly stitch it into the area that is blown out.
I duct tape my food bag on the inside and out.
Whistlers
All day I have been hearing this high-pitched whistle from the rocks by the trail. It sounds like the highest not on one of those recorders you play in elementary school. I learn from the people near me (after their dog rushes me) that the sound is from marmots. I hope I get to see one whistling.
Generosity
Just as I am about to settle down to write, a man and his daughter walk by. I hail them and they come over. His name is Andrew and his daughter is Leah. We talk for a while, and I share my predicament. I see him doing some mental calculations. He says to his daughter, “How would you like to go to Snoqualmie Pass this weekend?” She is puzzled. “We may be able to take this man some of the things he needs.”
I am floored. “What do you mean?”I ask. Andrew says, “We don’t live that far from Snoqualmie Pass. I can pick up what you need in Seattle and bring it too you. We exchange numbers.
This day has been the hardest day so far, and more than once I thought about going home. My feet are burning. My butt, legs, and hips are chafed. My equipment is failing. And this total stranger offers to help me get back on track. It’s too much to bear. I almost lose it right there in my campsite. What kind of world is this? How could I quit now?
Resolution
I have applied Vagisil to the chafe and it feels better. I am wearing my fixed shorts now and hopefully they hold up until I get to Snoqualmie Pass. My sleep socks might help with my burning feet. I just have to keep trying. All I need is a few good breaks and some fortitude, and I can get back on track.
Tomorrow is a new day. I will start early and hope for cooler weather (less sweating and chafing). And I thank God for the unmerited kindness of strangers. Now sleep.
- August 1
- Starting mile: 2309
- Ending mile: 2326
- Daily PCT miles: 17
- Total PCT miles: 955
- Animals: marmot army, mountain frog
Our struggle with the enemy is real but just when we feel defeated the love and kindness of God overwhelms us as a reminder of who we belong to. His grace will carry you through. Keep going bro, you’ll accomplish your goal. Stay strong!
When you least expect it, and need it most, humankind comes through. There is a message for all of us there.
boxer briefs- nuff said
enjoy your travels.