The End?

At the border



Snow capped mountains from Grasshopper Pass


Jeramy at Cutthroat Pass, looking cool!


Bridge washed out in 2003, White Chuck River


Jeramy crossing the Suiattle River


Jeramy in Goat Rocks Wilderness, Mt. Rainier in back


Goats in Goat Rocks Wilderness




We have been finished hiking for 10 days now. Jeramy and I strolled up to the US-Canadian border on October 13th. It was a typical Northwest October day, cloudy and chilly with intermittent rain. Walking up to the wooden Northern Terminus monument was almost surreal. I had envisioned doing so countless times over the last 51/2 months. As I stood in the drizzling rain I looked back to the day we set off from the Southern Terminus monument, full of excitement to begin this journey, a little nervous knowing I would at times be miles from the comforts of modern day existence. "What if something happened out there? What if one of us broke our leg/ankle/etc.?" I mused. Despite my apprehension I knew I wanted to do this, I knew the experiences and memories would be worth all of the struggles, blisters, intense heat, huge climbs, rattle snake encounters, freezing cold nights, numb toes and fingers, etc, etc. I was not disappointed, it was well worth it, all of it.

I can look back on various journey's I have taken in my life, challenging situations I have intentionally placed myself in, knowing that the energy and hard work put into it will ultimately (hopefully) benefit others and myself. I have never regretted any of those experiences though some have left me wounded by the harsh realities and injustices I have witnessed. I am not one to pass up a challenging opportunity and this hike will be added to that list.

Our last few days out were some of the most exciting and nerve racking of the entire trip. We left the last town of the trail, Stehekin, and hiked 20 miles only to be forced off the trail by a freezing rain turned snow storm. Luckily we came to the last major road on the trail when the storm hit. We holed up in the only shelter available there, a small concrete trailhead restroom. As we stood there trying to warm up and eating the amazing pastries from the famous Stehekin bakery we discussed our options. Should we spend the night in the restroom? Set up camp where we were? Or try to hitch into town? The one thing we did know was that we did not want to continue hiking that day despite the fact that it was only noon. If we did we would climb up another 2,000 ft. and with 3 inches of snow fallen in an hour and a half that did not seem like an intelligent idea. Our decision was made easier when a man taking his new jeep for a test ride in the snow showed up outside our bathroom/shelter door. He knew exactly what we were doing and he chuckled to himself at the thought of us waiting out the storm in the bathroom. He gave us coffee to warm our hands and our insides and offered us a ride to the nearest town. In our stubbornness we could not make up our minds, though after sitting in his jeep warming my hands on the heater we decided that it was absurd not to accept his offer.

The closet town, Mazama, was 15 miles from the trail. It doesn't consist of much, a few hotels nestled in the trees and a general store that also serves as the town hub. Winthrop was another 15 miles further east, we had the chance visit both in our three days of waiting out the storm. Of all the towns on the trail these two are among my favorite. Some of the most friendly, kind-hearted people I have met live there. Getting around and between the two towns required no effort in spite of there being no public transit. I think we got 7 rides in total, not a single one did we stick a thumb out for. People offered us rides before we could even get that far and when we weren't even looking for rides. Brian, the owner of the independent bookstore in Winthrop, hiked the PCT in 1997 and after talking with him for a few minutes he offered to put us up for a night while we waited to go back out. Along the entire trail we experienced this, what is called "trail magic;" generous, giving folk who go out of the way to help out hikers. It never ceased to amaze me how many people we met along the way who offered up their time, energy and resources to help out the folks they saw walking around their towns looking slightly lost with a pack on their backs.

So after three days in Mazama/Winthrop waiting and discussing our options for finishing the trail we decided to take advantage of three days of good weather and go for it. Unsure of how much snow there would be up there or whether we would be able to see the trail well enough to follow it we bought some warmer gear and a few extra maps, we were as prepared as we could be. All we needed was for the weather report to be accurate.

When we got back to the trailhead at Rainy Pass there was more snow than there had been when we chose to bail out three days prior, but not enough to detour us, we were determined to finish. We were only 70 miles from the end! The first five miles were disheartening, it took us three hours to hike it. To give you a sense of how slow that is we usually averaged three miles an hour. So hiking a normal pace in those three hours we should have been able to cover nine miles, not five. Not very promising if we were to finish in the next three days before another storm came through. Yet we could see the trail ahead of us and it seemed that the snow, which had been up to our knees in parts, would not be that deep the entire way. Besides, it was absolutely gorgeous. Bright blue sky behind snow covered, craggy peaks on all sides. Not a sound, nor a foot print save for the occasional deer or elk track. We slowly pushed on, Jeramy in the lead breaking trail (making it significantly easier for me). With each ridge we crossed we could see the trail stretched out ahead of us and the chances of getting through in time became more and more likely. As we descended into the first valley we began to see more and more animal tracks, deer, elk, coyote, and cougar. Still no human tracks. At no point, other than the one road we crossed between Rainy Pass and trails end did we see other people. Just us, the mountains, snow, beautiful tamarack trees changing color and a consistent trail of animal tracks, of which I should add bear to the list.

The weather was on our side the entire time (minus the cold). We had beautiful sunny days with occasional cloud cover. Two of the three nights it rained/snowed slightly but nothing that significantly affected us. Those three days and nights were arguably some of our coldest on the entire trail. Of course we expected this when we set out from Rainy Pass, but anticipating cold is much different than experiencing it. Nature is unrelenting and unbiased. Not malicious, simply alive. And it will remind you that you too are alive, and to not take your life for granted. I was grateful not to be there alone. The coldest night of the three we cooked our dinner of instant mashed potatoes, spiced it as we like and by the time we got around to eating it was almost cold. It is always easier to deal with challenging circumstances together rather than alone, and I was grateful that I was eating cold mashed potatoes with Jeramy and not by myself.

Our last day full day out we hit the highest point on the trail in Washington, around 7,200 ft. Our goal was to make it over and down before Monday when the weather was suppose to turn again, we succeeded in that and saw one last amazing sunset. As we reached the high point the sun was setting. It was picturesque, only a few clouds in the sky, enough to tint the sky orange, yellow, and pink. To the east the moon was rising, almost full. We would have considered camping up there had there not been 2 feet of snow on the ground and completely exposed. We walked by the light of the moon down to the lake below and found a nice sheltered spot among the trees next to the half-frozen Hopkins Lake.

The next morning we had 15 miles to walk until we reached Manning Park, the end of the trail. We took our time, knowing it was our last day out. Eight miles before the end we reached the US-Canada border where the official end of the PCT is marked with the Northern Terminus Monument. We spent a few hours eating lunch, reading the entries that all our friends who had finished before us had written in the register, and doing a bit of a photo shoot. Usually I would not brag but since it was such an epic adventure I have to say that we were the first people to sign the register at the border in a week. Our friends had been the last ones to sign it on October 6th. Meaning that nobody had hiked through that storm and we were the first to do so after it hit. We had hoped that another couple that we had been hiking on and off with since southern California was right behind us but when we got into Manning Park we learned that a ranger had talked them out of hiking the final stretch.

Now here I am sitting on the couch wrapped up in warm clothes, inside my warm house, typing away on my computer and looking out the window at the beautiful, sunny day and trying to get used to the idea that I will not be spending the majority of my time outside contending with the elements and experiencing the seasons as they come and go. Remembering as I sit here not to take anything for granted. Whether it be shelter, warmth, dryness and a bed, or rain, sun, snow, hail, thunder, lightening and on and on.

We began walking April 29th, spring time, walked into the summer in the high Sierra's and continued the summer in the Cascades, fall came upon us quickly in the middle of Washington and by the end it felt like winter up there. I will miss the trail and the friends made on it. I will miss seeing the changes in the landscape and how it all folds into each other. It is hard to say that I will miss walking through miles of clear-cuts in freezing rain for days at a time, or the 104 degree days down south where it was too hot even sitting still in the shade or to walk in the sand barefoot, or the mornings I woke up with my boots and water frozen, but I will miss those days too.

We hope to get back out there at least one more time this year. We missed a stretch from Etna, CA to Ashland, OR., about 150 miles. Later this week or next, weather permitting, we will head back out for one last hike.

I want to say thank you all for the wonderful support along the way. I especially want to thank Ezra for setting up and maintaining the Walk for Wildlands website (www.walkforwild.org) and getting the word out about the fundraiser. As well as The Kiva and Hummingbird Wholesale, both located in Eugene, OR. We could not have done this hike without the massive amounts of food you helped supply us with. Thank you for your generous donations. Also, Kate, Jody and Rochelle for taking the time to send out the many food boxes that sustained us along the way.

And of course to everyone else, family and friends who provided moral support and encouragement for our hike and to those of you who donated to the Walk for Wildlands fundraiser. Also, if you have not donated but would like to it is not too late, we are still accepting donations. Visit www.walkforwild.org and click on the donate button, and remember to use www.goodsearch.com. Just write Walk for Wildlands as the organization you would like to donate to and each time you do a search they will donate to the project.

Thank you all again. Keep your eyes out for one more entry later next month!

Peace,
Serena