I just completed the amazing and challenging Glacier Peak Wilderness section of the PCT. In six days, I covered 127-miles from Stevens Pass to Rainy Pass with 38K feet of climbing. There is a lot to unpack from my past and current attempt to enjoy the elusive Glacier Peak.
The first attempt was back in college organized by my brother, Bill. The three-day trip was to enter from the west then climb up one of the ridges to enjoy a view of Glacier Peak in all its splendor. We entered via a lush forest trail on the first day before climbing the ridge. We were caught in a torrent so heavy that it flooded our tent. It was so bad that the mice decided to shelter in our tent and raid our food. I remember six people covered in mud trying to dig drainage ditches, fend off mice, and stay warm. Defeated but not dejected, we exited and found other ways to spend our 3-day weekend. I wrote that trip off to inexperience, bad gear, and bad luck.
The second attempt was on my shoulders, leading my family into a similar hike to view the magnificent Glacier Peak from a ridge to the west. The results were the same; we climbed, were destroyed by a rainstorm, and exited with never a glimpse of the mythical peak. This disaster was entirely on me as I chose to ignore the weather report and advice from the ranger at Darrington.
It is only reasonable that my third attempt to hike near Glacier Peak made me nervous. Upon leaving Stevens Pass and climbing the ridges from the south, I was amazed to take pictures of what I thought might just be a legend. However, after climbing Red’s Pass and dropping into a river valley, Glacier Peak disappeared once again, shrouded in smoke from a fire. That set the tone for six days of massive climbs up and down the river valleys surrounding Glacier Peak with glimpsing views through the smoke. Early on, I committed to returning to this magnificent area a fourth time to explore without the threat of fires.
I now have a much clearer picture of both the beauty and the difficulty of the North Cascades. The glacial peaks (Washington has 186 named glaciers versus Oregon 35 and California 20) remind me of the Sierra and the Alps. The 3,500-foot descents and climbs traverse thickly forested river valleys, dense underbrush, and open scree fields. I swam in two glacier-tinted lakes and felt every cell shout, hell yes. I saw plenty of bear scat and heard elk bugle at sunset. I have not backpacked in Alaska, but one thru-hiker made that comparison. The challenges mainly came from the relentless climbs, the bugs, and staying cool during another heatwave. Hikers don’t mention the mosquitos in these parts because they are hardly noticed amongst the swarming small biting flies and the Imperial-Trooper-sized deer flies. Within two days, I was at my wit’s end.
On the third morning, I sent Pleasure-Way a message on my Garmin saying I felt like stopping. She wrote back, “hang in there; you got this.” I met Endless and QB, two triple crown hikers from Boston, who provided some much-needed support. “We are being tested; you got this.” I can’t tell you how much the phrase “you got this” helps from family, friends, and fellow hikers. It may sound like a two-bit cheer, but it sure does the job. “You” is speaking to the many layers of self that have walked this journey with me. “got this” is an affirmation that I have developed the body, mind, and practices to finish this hike. It is hard to put into words how important your support is.
I have 61 miles and 16.3 K feet of climbing to reach the border. I will then turn around and hike 30 miles back to Hart’s Pass. See you on the other side.
I have visited many wilderness areas on this hike. This sign sent a shiver down my spine.I had to pull out my map to confirm that this was the elusive Glacier Peak.The climb up Red’s Pass gave me the first glimpse of the four additional passes ahead.You can barely make out Glacier Peak in this photo. Depending on the ever-changing smoke and light, it would fade in and out over the next four days.I faced a dangerous river crossing early on my third day when I felt like quitting. I wrote the following Haiku, and this river crossing brought me back to the present moment.
The log is the way My feet lead me through chaos There is nothing elseThe layers and layers of underbrush were beautiful and sometimes claustrophobic.Swimming in Mica Lake, pure joy and brought my core temperature down instantly.The view from my campsite on day four; I didn’t even know these mountains were there when I hiked in through the smoke and fading light.Navigating around blow-down trees is hard enough. In Washington, they can be the size of a house.Cooler weather and even some showers came in on day six; what a relief.
The title of this blog may bring back memories of watching Sesame Street as a kid or with your kids. But, I go with what comes to me on the trail, and this was it. Come to think of it, I may have turned into Cookie Monster – more on that later. W is for “Wet” certainly works since I’ve spent three of the last four days hiking in the rain. W is for “Wild” is also an accurate description of the landscape since hiking north from Chinook to Stevens Pass. And as you will see from the photos, W is for “Wow” is undisputable from my photos, even with marginal weather. But what got me thinking of W is looking at the elevation map I would face in northern Washington.
Washington started with a big climb coming out of the Columbia River but then settled into rolling forests with moderate elevation changes similar to Oregon. That changed beginning at Chinook Pass, and as I prepared for the last 325 miles, I saw a repeating pattern of W’s, not seen since the Sierra.
This graph shows the trail’s elevation change in the last segment and represents what is coming over the next 189 miles. W is for “Watts” as in the amount of energy and focus I will need to complete this amazing trail..
The rain over the last three days has pointed out limitations in my gear. I have previously dealt with thunderstorms or showers that last maybe three hours. Afterward, it is easy to dry out the tent. Or, if the rain is continuous and I am at a base camp, we leave the tent up, which works fine. But facing steady rain and compressing a wet tent into my backpack showed a weakness. I love the tent; it has withstood 60 mile/hour winds and protected me at wind chill temperatures below zero. But the lightweight nylon fabric eventually does absorb water if compressed over a long period. Thru-hikers are always on the move so our tents must packed everyday wet or dry. After the hike, I will be writing a blog titled “Gear Heads” to share my observations about my gear and other options.
The Kendall Katwalk, a 3,400-foot climb out of Snoqualmie Pass, was wrapped in the building rainstorm. This trail is not for people with a fear of heights.My rain-soaked tent, after three days, was losing its water resistance.
I’ve often talked about the significance of Trail Magic. It has ranged from a homemade chocolate chip cookie given by a day hiker to full meals. But no matter what the offering, it has a tremendous positive impact on thru-hikers. It is a beautiful sign that other people appreciate and value what we’re doing and will go out of their way to acknowledge it. Here at Stevens Pass, I was fortunate to be the recipient of Trail Magic from my sister and her husband as well as Pleasure-Way’s sister and husband. I certainly have made a dent in my caloric deficit with the wonderful meals and desserts they’ve provided. Tonight I had a tender T-bone steak, corn chowder, salad, and a huge piece of fresh peach pie. Tomorrow night is a surprise, but I can’t wait for round two.
I was offered a homemade chocolate chip cookie from a group of women day hiking. They asked great questions and I guess I passed the test – yummy. My second round of homemade cookies came from Velvet, espresso chocolate chip – yummy + buzz.The family showed up in force at Stevens Pass to offer encouragement and fantastic food. From left to right are Duffy, Bud, Mary, Sophie, Dan, Ribs, Pleasure-Way, and Velvet.This is hands down the best steak I have had since starting the hike. It disappeared and will probably show up in my upcoming food dreams.Velvet made a fresh peach pie with homemade crust. She got the portion size just right.
I am setting forth on my final two segments on the Pacific Crest Trail, with 189 miles left with a gross climbing of 54K feet. That is 50% more climbing per mile than the average. These are difficult segments and will test my physical and mental preparation from the last 108 days. I enter them with genuinely mixed emotions because I know this journey is coming to an end, and it has been the trip of a lifetime. I will likely not blog until I return from the Canadian border since there is limited mobile coverage. Safe travels, and may the trail provide.
A view looking back at the mountains and lakes just north of Snoqualmie Pass.I camped at Spectacle Lake the first night and got some rain breaks before the next rain storm. I turned the corner in a switchback to see this rainbow. In an instant, it was gone. Rainbows remind me of my Mom and she was sending her Trail Magic my direction.I spent my final night at Glacier Lake and woke up to a beautiful sunrise – welcome back sun!
I’m excited to share my experience hiking on my 100th day on the PCT. I chronicled my day to remember life on the trail. It represents both the simplicity and the practices I use to stay engaged and safe while deepening my awareness.
I hiked a relatively short day of 21.6 miles through the Goat Rocks Wilderness. I pushed hard 30-miles the day before to get to this section. At the end of my 100th day, I had completed 2,280 miles or 22.8 miles per day. I had some new insights as I look back at the twists and turns common on the trail.
First, I have refined and developed practices that I use throughout the day applied at various times. As I observed my approach, it became clear that I was using meditation practices to coax my mind and body into embracing the coming hiking day. I have noticed that I am becoming increasingly resistant, mentally and physically, to hiking at the start of the day. I think this is natural after an effort of this magnitude and certainly something other hikers have described. I’m glad that I developed some structure to support my intention and the joy I receive as my day progresses.
My second realization has to do with joy. I noticed throughout the day unexpected moments grab me at the deepest level. For example, I turned a corner on the trail to see the wind blowing through the grass and felt it caressing my hair. These moments of connectedness are hard to describe, but it felt like my hair and the grass and the wind were not separate but one continuous energetic expression. Or the clattering sound from a woodpecker or the high-pitched chirp of a pica. These unexpected moments occur frequently and come when I am grumbling or happy, present or checked out. But there they are, connecting me with everything that surrounds me. This is what brings me to nature, it is the feeling that I’m a part of it, not just watching it, or conquering it, or taking pictures of it – no, I’m a part of it at a cellular level. I wonder what it would take to experience these moments during what we describe as “normal” life. Do I need to trek endlessly day after day to be open for these unexpected moments of connectedness?
5:00 AM
My alarm went off at 5:00 a.m on my 100th day of hiking. As usual, it was a restless night of sleep. The rain had started in the middle of the night, but it was so warm that everything was dry again. My 30-mosquito escort had a sleepover outside the tent so they could greet me in the morning. As I prepared to pack out, I did a quick survey of my current condition. I hiked 30 miles the previous day in hot and humid conditions with a constant barrage from mosquitoes and biting flies. I felt dehydrated, as evidenced by some leg cramping – all the more reason to take it slow this morning and try to rehydrate. I have 1.5 liters of water which needs to last for the first 7.5 miles.
5:40 AM
I packed everything and was hiking by 5:40 AM. I put on my full rain gear, including long pants, for the first seven miles to get thru a swampy area. I had three bites on my ankles in the short time I needed to put my shoes on. I hiked at a gentle pace for the first hour to give my body a chance to wake up.
6:40 AM
After two miles, I had my first-breakfast, which was a cliff coffee bar. I’d been working to rehydrate myself but save water for the next 2 hours. I started a one-hour body scan meditation.
7:40 AM
I completed my body scan, and everything is felt good except pain in my right footpad. I checked in with 32 different locations on my body. I find this is an excellent start for the day because it gets me out of my head and connects me to all the parts of my body that will do the work today. I decided to keep walking for the next two hours to clear the buggy swamp section.
8:40 AM
I’d hiked seven miles and had started climbing. It began to rain as it has on several occasions over the last two days, but I didn’t think it would break through this stifling humidity. I completed my secondmeditation, a trail sensation meditation, where I focused my attention on any sensations I felt from the trail, including the trail surface and the brush that I touched along the way.
9:40 AM
I filled my water bottles at a small stream after hiking eight miles, with the first miles being a 1750 ft descent followed by a 1300 ft climb. The bugs significantly eased as I climbed the ridge, and I was looking forward to having a proper second-breakfast soon.
10:40 AM
After getting water, I started to feel more at ease with the climb ahead. I used a meditation approach that works well for me on climbs. That is to count my breaths from 1 to 10 and then start over. I focus on my steps between each breath which helps me set a sustainable pace. I started to feel in a groove and decided to keep going instead of stopping for second-breakfast. I grabbed a protein bar and continued to climb.
11:40 AM
I reached a pass where the PCT crosses into the Yakima Nation after 13 miles. I remembered this spot from my previous hike in the Goat Rocks and was thrilled to get here for second-breakfast. I heated water for my excellent high-calorie oatmeal concoction and my morning cup of coffee with great fanfare. With the heat and humidity, I had been hoping for rain. It drizzled at first, so I finish my breakfast and then the rain picked up, so I continued hiking after putting on shorts. As strange as it may seem, thru-hikers will put on shorts and their lightest gear in warm rain. Getting wet is inevitable if you hike in the rain for long stretches. This way you keep your warm clothing dry.
12:40 PM
I always get a big energy boost after second-breakfast. I finished climbing Cispus Pass, and the rain stopped. I met six hiking parties, out for the weekend, that wanted to talk about my journey. I spent time with each of them because I know how much I appreciated learning from previous PCT hikers. I am rarely seeing fellow north-bound PCT thru-hikers at this point but now meet about 10 south-bound hikers a day.
1:40 PM
I had reached the basin under Old Snowy Mountain. Usually, Old Snowy is one of the most picturesque sections on the PCT, but today the mountains were barely visible due to a smokey mist. I hiked this section two years ago with Scott, so coming back and feeling my first cool breeze in days made me smile. I did my one-hour metta meditation as I climbed up to 7,100 feet.
It is worth noting the tools thru-hikers use. Navigation and crowdsourcing information from other hikers is available on an app called Guthook. It allows hikers to see their location in real-time even when the phone is in airplane mode. It also allows hikers to comment on water sources, safety issues, and the best pizza joint in trail towns.
3:20 PM
I climbed the alternate PCT route to the top of the Knife’s Edge, a feared section of trail that follows a thin ridgeline with exposure on both sides. Before descending, I had first-lunch of refried beans and Fritos and called Pleasure-Way. The trail is tricky, and one hiker is believed to have died here but was never found.
Photo of the Knife’s Edge trail from the top of Owd Snowy two years agoLooking back up the Knife’s Edge after descending on my 100th day
5:20 PM
I made my way to my campsite after descending 1500 feet from the summit. I selected this site because it was next to a stream and on clear days, has a great view of Mt. Rainier. It was great getting into camp this early since most days I arrive after 7 PM.
5:40 PM
The tent was up, and I used the cold and clear water to hydrate, filter water, and clean up. When possible, I take a sponge bath each night away from the water source. Most nights, I am “dry camping,” which means there is no water source nearby. I always need to ration my water when dry camping, so having it readily available is a treat.
6:40 PM
I cooked dinner outside my tent, the first time in several weeks. The wind kept the bugs at bay, and I enjoyed the solitude. On the menu was my favorite, spaghetti followed by ramen.
7:40 PM
I worked on my 100th-day blog post. I was pleased to have made notes during the day, and reviewing them provided me some valuable insights.
In 2008, my son Mitchell and I started PCT section hiking with a 45-mile hike through the Sisters Wilderness Area. Retracing those steps, I recalled many funny stories and truly appreciate how fortunate I am that this is my backyard. It is more accurate to say that this is our backyard. These public lands are preserved for generations to come. These lands were the ancestral homes of the native peoples who lived here sustainably over many centuries before colonization.
It is natural and appropriate to have pride in the place we live. That was on full display during the hike in 2008 when I would ask the thru-hikers what their favorite section was so far. I was waiting for the correct answer; “it’s here in the Sisters”. The only response we heard was the Sierra, which did pique my interest to hike there. Over the years, I have doubted whether the Sisters Wilderness was, in fact, as special as I believed it to be. I will let you be the judge as you look at my photos from the last two days. I re-discovered the uniqueness of this combination of volcanic peaks, deep forests, and open plains. I have not seen anything like it.
One of my favorite stories from 2008 was our packs, which we felt were lightweight because they were less than 40 pounds. We were amazed to see thru-hikers zip by with what we would consider day packs. I remember Dragon Ant; he had a tiny pack and was logging 40 miles a day. I can still see him almost skipping over the ground. We got lost in the snow for at least 3 hours, developed an amazing array of blisters from hiking in wet boots, and did not carry enough water to cross the lava flow section. Despite all our troubles, Mitchell went on to section hike 800 miles in 2015, and I crossed the 2000-mile mark today.
The lesson that I share with hikers that I meet along the way is to be patient with yourself. Whether this is your first backpacking trip or you’ve been doing it for decades, you always make mistakes. You must learn and be adaptable whether your body is not performing as you’d hoped, or your gear is not working, or external factors change unexpectedly. The critical thing is that we develop our ability to accept, adapt, and learn from all that we experience. And that’s why every day, every step is a new adventure.
This week I’ve met folks from Oklahoma, Texas, Idaho, and Pennsylvania who have come to hike the Sisters Loop Trail. I welcomed them all to play in our backyard.
Mt Thielsen is the first peak to welcome north-bound PCT hikers. I climbed Thielsen last year and could see into Crater Lake from the summit.This group provided some much needed trail magic at Summit Lake near Diamond Peak; some Oregon hospitality.Diamond Peak from the north is normally not visible from below. This basin has a lot to explore and climb.Walking towards my beloved South Sister, it does feel like my backyard.North and Middle Sisters from the north show the glaciers and ruggedness of this area.I was wrong in an earlier post, this is the way to Mordor.Really, it can’t possibly be almost over. The celebration for completing mileage is getting a bit more subdued.
PCT hikers generally assume that the Sierra Nevada section ends at Sonora Pass, where they are relieved to stop carrying their food in a bear canister. Geologists know the Sierra continues another 270 miles to the North Fork of the Feather River, where I ended hiking today. The name “melting pot” came to me early as I saw the ever-changing combinations of high desert, deep forests, polished granite, basalt columns, and volcanic cones. The name made even more sense as I started to adjust to the heatwave that swept across the west.
I have now closed the gap between California’s southern sections with the start of the Cascades. I am excited to be at mile 1501 and ready for my trek northward from Castle Crags. Heat is my new reality, and once again, I need to re-think my gear and approach. I hiked three days with temperatures bordering on 100 degrees, and I immediately noticed the added energy required to cool my body when I am already operating in a caloric deficit. My plan is to lighten my gear and carry more food, but one thing I can count on is continuously making adjustments.
The Desolation Wilderness is a small but spectacular section near South Lake Tahoe starting with Aloha Lake.Climbing up Dick’s pass provides a great view of Suzie Lake in the foreground and Aloha Lake in the distance. The polished granite reminded me of Yosemite, but the volcanic peaks look much more like the Cascades.I like to start hiking around 6 AM and then enjoy a proper second-breakfast of gourmet oatmeal and coffee. This friendly face watched me as I sat above Lake Tahoe. I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted this “Tahoe Bouquet.” It was as if someone had arranged the Mules Ears (yellow), Indian Paintbrush (red), and Nuttall’s Larkspur (purple).After leaving Donner Pass, I had my first sustained thunderstorm. Sierra Buttes flashed ominously in the distance.Hiking Sierra Buttes was a 3500-foot climb from Sierra City, featured in Cheryl Strayed’s book and movie. I got started at 6 AM, and the views looked more like Oregon and Washington.The hottest and most difficult section covered over 20 miles of hiking through the North Complex fires of 2020. The 100-degree heat radiated back from the barren landscape. This was my most challenging day yet on the trail.One hiker described the Canyon Valley Spring as the “cold nectar of the gods.” These springs tap into artesian sources where hikers can reach the water before it disappears into the dry ground.
100 Degree Hiking
Heat comes in waves
Straining my body's cooling
Each breeze is pure joy
Ribs
In our attempt to hike the entire PCT this summer, we have been jumping north to hike short sections of the trail while waiting for the snow to melt in the Sierra. These disjointed sections were, in fact, a wonderful introduction to the Cascade Mountains. I hiked 214 miles from Belden to Castle Crags State Park on I-5 in four hikes over nine days through the Mt. Lassen and Mt. Shasta National Forests.
This sign announcing entry into the Cascades Range is 400 PCT miles from the Oregon border.
In my initial attempt to hike up north three weeks ago, Home Alone, I didn’t see many people but did find signs of bears and plenty of snow. These themes continued as I encountered only five parties backpacking over the entire distance. It was unnerving at first, but I came to appreciate the solitude. Signs of bears continued, and I spent time trying to understand their activities – I never saw one, which is always the goal. And, yes, the snow found new ways to tease and torment, reminding me that I am simply a visitor in nature’s house.
Looking 30 miles south at Mt. Lassen from Hat Creek Rim Looking 100 miles north at Mt. Shasta from Hat Creek RimA recent bear print near Mt. LassenBear scat full of Juniper berries inspired me to alert them near Juniper groves.
The next time we jumped north to avoid a snowstorm in the Sierra came after The Amazing South Sierra. I began by hiking a 46-mile section near Mt. Lassen, thinking that the worst of the snow would hit in the Sierra. I stayed with Pleasure-Way after completing that section and was surprised to find four inches of snow at our campsite the next day and likely six to eight inches covering my planned route. We decided to make a quick dash home and found that the snow stretched far north into Oregon at PCT trail elevations.
Fresh snow on May 20 at Old Station near Mt. Lassen 2,500 feet below where I was hiking the day beforeThe snow highlighted the magnificent trees in the Mt. Lassen National Park
We returned after a few days to complete the section. I will leave you with some visual and poetic images of the southern Cascade Mountains. I look forward to hiking the remaining 1,150 miles of the Cascades after I complete the Sierra.
The Sugar Pine trees were the winner in the pine cone category, with a close second going to the Gray Pines.My campsite at sunrise looking down on Lake AlmanorSnow plants signal the start of spring, bursting forth from snowbanks
Emerging from snow
everything given freely
sweet nectar of life.
Ribs
Part of our PCT plan is to use my wife’s incredible support, the ultimate trail angel, to leap forward and backward to optimize the chance of finishing the trail in one year. There are many reasons this helps from avoiding snow, fires, and dealing with injuries. The time window is short for finishing the desert section before the summer heat and the northern Cascades before the snowfalls. We successfully lept backward to complete the San Jacinto section earlier, so what could go wrong?
This week we lept 700 miles forward to start an 83 mile, three-day hike beginning at Burney Falls, north of Mt. Lassen, and ending at Castle Crags on I-5. It was time to test our approach to find terrain with less snow. I immediately felt at home, entering a deep, lush forest, and I did not see another person for 65 miles. I could make out one pair of shoe prints from this season, maybe two weeks earlier.
The lush forest was like coming home. My camp on the first night after 25 miles – home aloneMt. Shasta from my campsite
COVID deprived us of our holiday traditions, so we experimented with a few new ones. One was to watch the classic holiday movie Home Alone. That first day on the trail felt a bit like Macaulay Culkin’s first night celebrating after realizing that he had the house to himself. Similarly, it is the second day when the real story begins. My experience shifted from a stroll through the forest to a 13-hour orienteering drill through deep snow. The faint shoe prints vanished early on, replaced by deer and bear prints. I could not figure out why there were 12-foot drifts and miles of snowfields when the snow reports showed otherwise. I put those theoretical questions aside and got serious about using all my navigation tools (apps, maps, compass, and GPS) to find the most efficient route.
Black bear prints and scat were frequent, so I used my whistle to alert them of my presence.I hiked four hours through deep snow – sometimes, the most accessible trail is straight up.The views of Mt. Shasta continued to inspire me.
I finally broke free of the snowfields and discovered the answer to my question. I was hiking through a north-facing basin that funneled the weather from several mountains leading to deep snowdrifts. I did not see another section with this level of variation. I hiked hard once I cleared the snow basin and camped after covering 24 miles. I was exhausted but also felt good about how I worked through my unexpected challenges.
I solved the mystery once I reached the ridge.
The third day was like the triumphant coming home party that the wiser and more confident Macaulay Culkin experienced. I hiked 34 miles through beautiful old-growth forests and completely lost myself in the experience. My wonderful trail angel was there at I-5 with trays of food, including fried chicken, salad, potato wedges, fruit, cookies, and I ate it all. I am so fortunate to have a chance to immerse myself in this experience with such unconditional support.
My reward was an amazing 34-mile day through old-growth forests.
