Mile 2,533 to mile 2,509
Miles: 24
The section of the trail that I hiked today had the most elevation change of any day-long section on the PCT. I climbed 8,629 ft, and descended 8,159 ft.
It's hard for me to wrap my head around those numbers without more info, so here are some details:
12 straight hours of hiking
5+ miles of bush-whacking through head-high underbrush that had overgrown the trail (including many spiny plants)
30+ downed trees climbed over or crawled under
15 creeks crossed
Half a mile of snow fields crossed
6 other people encountered
30 total minutes of conversation, the rest was solitude
To sum it up, today was brutal. Not only is there lingering snow on the trail, but much of it has not been maintained yet this season. Downed trees over the trail are commonplace. The thick, spiny underbrush has overgrown many parts. Speaking with a ranger two days ago, he said that much of this year's trail maintenance will take place in the next month, to prepare for the surge of northbound hikers who will hit the state in September.
I was able to power through the challenges today, and to keep hiking with energy, but my heart wasn't in it. In order to push through days like today and to last an entire thru-hike, a hiker has to either enjoy the challenges, or be entirely unfazed by them. Today, I wasn't that hiker. I was irritated that the trail climbed and descended ridge after ridge. I wished that the trail was maintained, even more so each of the six times that I fell during the heavy underbrush sections due to a concealed rock or hole in the trail. I wanted some company.
I don't feel sorry for myself. Every part of this trip is my own doing and it's an adventure that I'm perfectly capable of handling. At the same time, I didn't enjoy today. I dreamed about thru-hiking for a long, long time, but this is not what I envisioned. I hoped for more companionship. I hoped for less pain. I hoped for a hike that showcased the Pacific Northwest. Well, in terms of that last hope, I got what I wished for.
I limped the last three miles into camp. My knees are the size of oranges. Using my hiking poles as crutches, I vaulted my way down the trail, trying to give my knees and Achilles' tendons a break. I aimed for a large campsite near a good water source, primarily in the hopes that I'd find some of my hiker brethren there.
The campsite was empty. I expended every last ounce of energy I had to get here, so I'm camping alone tonight for the first time. I hung my food a ways away from camp. I still plan on wearing earplugs.
This is tough going. It's especially tough when you're alone for the experience.
To end on a less negative note, here are some pics from that day.
Here's a super chill marmot sunbathing right next to the trail:
Glacier Peak's snowy expanse:
Cascades rule everything around me:
The trail ahead:
Bridge might be broken, but I still crossed it:
Tonight's huge dinner spread that included a package of ramen, a tuna packet (spicy Thai, how fancy), a tomato tortilla, cheese, and a snickers bar:
