Days 58 & 59 – Packwood Zero

A zero (no hiking miles) seems so extravagant. So decadent. After all, I am not a tourist, am I? I am on a mission. I am trying to do something great. My quest is important! This is how the thru-hiker must think if one is to keep hiking day after day. But hikers must rest. And that usually means a return to the land of normal people and normal things. Today and tomorrow, Packwood, Washington is that place.

I slept well last night. The effort of the last few days has made me tired. I could not even finish my writing last night. I had to be content with jotting down a few notes and closing my eyes as sleep overwhelmed me at 9:15. Papa and John were nearby, each separated by a big log (the kind of natural barriers we acknowledge on the trail.)

I awake naturally at 4:50. I am pleased. I can exit camp before 6 am if I stay focused. I exit camp at 5:45, even better. Papa and John are almost ready to break camp, too.

The way to Packwood

On the PCT I enter the burn area that surrounds the spring at which I camped last night. It was a miracle that the spring was saved. And I was the grateful beneficiary of that miracle.

Initially the trail goes up 1000 ft and then down 2000 ft to White Pass where I hope to hitch into Packwood for a zero. It is so easy to take the trail for granted on mornings like this when all your thoughts are focused on reaching town, but the trail surprises me again.

But the little things capture my attention, too. These are the tiniest of tracks. Within a few hours they will be eradicated by human footprints, but in the early morning they reveal that the trail sustains smaller creatures, too.

I am getting close to Rainier now. That mountain will be demanding more attention north of White Pass. But today it remains a gentleman.

This beautiful lake sits demutely on a high shelf like a heavenly wash basin. On a more leisurely day, I might visit it. But today I will pass by.

Old friends

When I arrive at the top of the climb, I find the Carolinians – Geo, Fast Eddie and Jerry. They are enjoying the view of the trail below and Mt. Rainier. I last saw them two days ago as we crossed Adams Creek together. Unknowingly I shared camp at the Springs with them last night. They are heading into town for a night at the Packwood Inn where I am also staying. Then Geo is heading home for a wedding and the boys are hanging out in various places in Washington until Geo returns. They will resume their hike to the border after that.

Except for some serious mosquitoes below 6000 ft, the trail to the pass is uneventful. However, it does pass close the the White Pass ski slopes several times. Why do barren empty ski slopes seem so poignant in the summer? The stationary lift chairs make me sad. I hope winter brings all the skiers back. Very few of them will know or care about this little tree-covered trail I am walking, this trans-continental footpath, this highway of dreams.

White Pass

I emerge onto the highway at White Pass. I have been hearing the sound of traffic for about an hour, but the sight of traffic makes my heart leap: I associate cars with rides to town or trail magic. Several hikers are milling around near the highway. We hike west along the road until we come to the Kracker Barrel (a convenience store, not the restaurant).

Since the Kracker Barrel allows hikers to camp here for free, there are many hikers here opening resupply boxes they sent to the store. These hikers will not go into Packwood unless they are shopping for food (like me) or staying in town (also like me). I see several Nobos that I know, and many Sobos that I don’t.

I get a soda, check the hiker box and then stand out by the road to hitch into town. The Carolinians soon do the same, except they position themselves before me so that traffic passes them before it reaches me. And they have a secret weapon – a female. It is widely known that women get rides much sooner than men. I am kind of peaved about this, but I let it go. You never know how things will work out.

There are some RVs on the side of the road near me. I walk up to one and chat with its driver. He asks if I want a chicken salad sandwich. You bet I do! As we talk, I realize that the Carolinians have disappeared. They must have gotten a ride to town. Then a big van pulls over to pick me up. As I approach the van, the door opens and the Carolinians tell me to get in. They looked out for me after all!

The driver’s name is Doug and he has been supporting his wife as she hikes the PCT. They normally hike together but he has some health issues this year, so he is supporting her.

Packwood

Packwood is very nice from a hiker’s perspective. The store, post office and restaurants are all close together. Stan calls Packwood “magic mushroom”territory. I don’t want to find out what that means. The town chores are the same as always, and I give my legs and feet some well-deserved rest. I stock the fridge at the inn with the essentials:

I call several people to chat about everything. I watch the Olympics until it seems pointless. The I watch the last Harry Potter movie. The final scene with the older Potters and Weasleys sending their children off to Hogwarts is so British. No matter what happens, life goes on and the traditions of life must continue. It’s not a trivial conclusion. It makes me think of how nice Thanksgiving will be this year after I finish this hike. I want to fill the house with people, like we did when Patti’s parents were alive. I want to celebrate life.

The next section to Snoqualmie is 100 miles and should take me five days. I have a camping plan to get me there before my food runs out. Everything is ready, and I am too. I have arranged a ride to the trail, but my heart is already out there.

• July 29 & 30
• Starting mile: 2287
• Ending mile: 2295
• Daily PCT miles: 8
• Total PCT miles: 923