Mile 2513.2 – 2542

With the days getting shorter, our 5:30 wake up allowed us to see the last glimmer of the stars before they faded into the brightening sky. It was beautiful.

We hauled our packs onto our backs and crossed over the well flowing Pumice Creek. Soon we reentered a woods on a slope were the trail seemed more tacked onto the side of a mountain than chiseled in. The blow down from yesterday continued with large trees fallen across the trail. Annoying and cumbersome to get around on flat group, on the side of the slope, the fallen trees required us to possess a level of agility and balance not conducive to people carrying all their belongings on their backs, but we managed.

We were able to complete a moderate climb to a flat ridge while the light was still good and the views were stunning. Before us and behind us glaciated mountains opened up like a book.

To our right, Glacier Peak sat resolutely in the foreground.

Campsites dotted the ridge and we regretted not reaching this spot the night before. Washington was certainly showing its good side and we dalied as we tried to soak up the scene. When I think back on the PCT, it is places like this I want to remember. The stretch before and after mile 2517 was particularly grand.

As we made our way down, we passed Mica Lake. I remarked to another hiker that we were sure ending on a high note here in Washington. The man said that he was inclined to agree.  After all we have seen, it still amazes me that this land can put me in a state of awe when I round a corner or gain a ridge.

We dropped back into the forest like a whale that has just come up for air and descended 3,000 vertical feet to a raging glacial river that was full of so much silt it was white. After crossing on a bridge  (thank God), we proceeded to climb 3,000 vertical feet up the opposing slope. This happens a lot in Washington. You eventually get used to it.
After lunch, we proceeded to descend for the next 15 or so miles. Steeply at first down numerous switchbacks and then along a river as it flowed down a valley. The forest felt prehistoric. Moss covered the ground and there were old growth trees that were absolutely enormous. Every now and then, a jagged peak surrounded by snow and ice could be seen between the trees.

Tomorrow we will close in on Stehekin, our last resupply stop. It is hard to believe that in less than a week we will cross into Canada. We are ready for it, but somehow it doesn’t seem real. We have been walking foe so long that it has become our lifestyle, our day to day, our routine. What do you do when the road comes to an end? When the pavement stops? When your goal has been completed, where do you go and what do you do? And most importantly, can you walk there?