5 Surprising Things from a First Time Thru-hiker

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

It’s been two months since I finished the PNT and already it’s fading in the rear view. It seems like a million years ago.

Before I set out on the PNT I crammed all my possessions into boxes, moved them across the country and into storage. Post trail my days were occupied unpacking and reconnecting with old friends. This didn’t allow a lot of time for reflection for the first month. But then the boxes were unpacked and the social calendar eased. “Normal” life resumed and I’ve had more time to reflect on the hike.

There is so much I could write about (and will, someday…) it’s hard to know where to start. For now I’ll start with five things that surprised me about thru-hiking.

1. How fast my body adapted (and zero blisters!)

I really didn’t know what to expect for how my body would adapt to life on the trail. I figured the first week or two would be ok but what would hiking 1,200 miles do to me? I wasn’t out of shape but I wasn’t in awesome shape. Before starting the trail I did maybe two long training hikes. Coming from Colorado I was more acclimatized to the elevations than other hikers, so that was something.

Turns out my body adapted pretty quickly to life on the trail. It was hard, really hard at times but for the most part I kept feeling stronger and stronger the longer I hiked. The biggest health concern was a case of shin splints around mile 350. Luckily another hiker showed me some KT tape tricks and that fixed it without having to take time off. I had zero blisters, that blows my mind.

The only other physical ailment was a dumb move on my part: falling over retrieving my food, bruising my ribs. I happened to do that the morning before I came down with food poisoning. I’ll spare details but lets just say vomiting with bruised ribs = not fun.

2. How small wilderness corridors really are

When backpacking the goal of my trips is to leave the trailhead and not see civilization until I return 6-7 days later. This means concocting loop routes that avoid leaving the wilderness. To thru-hike the PNT I walked across, not within, wilderness areas. Because of this I was seeing signs of human impact (forest roads, trailheads, towns) more often than I expected. There was one 5 day stretch in the Pasayten Wilderness but otherwise we never went more than 2-3 days without being on a forest road or crossing a highway with the opportunity to go into a town.

However this isn’t to say the PNT isn’t remote, it definitely is. The chances of getting a hitch on many of those roads are slim. Outside of the National Parks we very rarely saw other hikers on the trails. Most nights we camped alone. There are bushwack sections and alts that no one would find you on if you got lost.

To me it served as a wake up call that untouched wilderness is rare. We need to be doing what we can to ensure that we protect more and keep what we have from being exploited.

3. Hitch-hiking

I assumed that connecting your steps was part of the rite of passage. Sure you can hitch to and from towns but the trail – be it trail, road or cross-country – was supposed to be walked. My informal poll of hikers was about 50% hitched trail and 50% didn’t. At first watching others drive by while I was sweating it out on the roads got to me but then it became a running joke that maybe we were the crazy ones braving the highway walks.

And this isn’t to pass judgement, HYOH, it just psyched me out more than I would have realized. Full disclosure: we did hitch trail two times, the sections recommenced by the guidebook for safety. Before starting the trail we agreed that we would hitch these sections and nothing else if at all possible. I’m proud we were able to stick to our guns.

4. Strangers are really kind

I expected 25% of people to go out of their way for us and 75% to stare and hide their children from us. I’d say it was the reverse. At least 75% of the people we met were amazing, kind, caring folks. Very few of them had heard of the PNT but almost all of them offered us something: snacks, a place to pitch the tent, keys to their car, a hot tub. I’d like to say the trail angels on the PNT are the best but this being my first thru-hike I can’t make that claim (but they are the best!).

We did get called in to the authorities by a passerby so it wasn’t all roses but even that turned out to be a memorable part of the journey.

5. Guthook I love you, Guthook I hate you

Guthook is an awesome resource. It also kinda ruins the surprise of adventure. The user comments are great but I felt like we knew every hiccup before we got to it. It’s a double edged sword. Do I want to know about that taco truck at mile at 978.1 and plan my day around getting there before it closes? Or do I want to not know and just lose my goddamn mind with joy when I stumble across it (or sob uncontrollably if I got there after it closed)?

At times it can breed a false sense of security. As a less hiked and largely unmarked trail, there were times it was way off of the PNT. Common sense would have you not walk through the brambles and go 100 yards down to the road to the obvious trail. But the pull of the red line is real. I think in the future I’d prefer a simple GPS track for confidence, and to live the rest of the journey in the moment. But I’d also never forgive myself if I missed a taco truck 🙂

The End – Wild, Wet, Windswept Olympic Coast

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

The coastal section through the Olympic National Park starts, as many PNT sections do, with a 22-mile walk through forest roads. We walk it as fast as possible, knowing it’ll be our last day of roadwalking. Whoo hoo! Near the end of the day the road joins the Ho River. After a little while we hear a faint crashing noise. Waves from the ocean? A mile or so later we pop out from the forest and get our first wide view of the Pacific Ocean. We made it!

After 70 days walking up and down mountains the coast section feels like a totally different trip. The expansive ocean stays to our left, tide pools and beach line the path forward. Our hiking is dictated by the pull of the tides. We also are tapering our mileage, taking four days to walk the last 38 miles.

Another difference: a group of seven thru-hikers all started out of Forks on the same day with the same idea. We end up meeting most days to wait out the midday high tide and camp around a beach bonfire at night. Since Glacier National Park we’ve only camped with other thru-hikers a handful of times. For the most part I’ve enjoyed the solitude but having other hikers around at the end is exciting and makes us realize how epic of a journey this has been. It’s hard to know for sure but likely 50 people or less will complete the PNT this season. It’s a rare treat to share our experiences with other PNT class of 2019ers.

The first two days end up being gorgeous weather, warm with clear skies and calm seas. There are fun (and slightly sketchy) overland ropes to pull ourselves up and over rocky headlands. We even found whale bones!

On the third day we wake to an overcast brooding sky. Rain is definitely on the way. We manage to make it over slippery rocks and across a large section of beach by 10 a.m., just before the rain starts. We set up our tent and build a fire to stay dry as the rain keeps coming. And coming. The other PNTers also stop to wait out the rain. It ends up raining straight from 10:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., and everyone decides to camp. We’re less than ten miles to the end and have had our shortest day of hiking! It’s hard not to go stir crazy in the tent.

The next day, our last day, we wake up early. The rain is holding off so we move out of camp ASAP. An hour later we see other hikers coming up behind us. It’s a group of five other thru-hikers who have caught up to us! There will be 12 of us finishing today; it’s possible that’s a PNT record.

The gray skies remain but the rain holds off until just as we are finishing at Cape Alava, the western-most point of the Lower 48. We did it! We are exhausted! We are excited! We are thru-hikers! The end of the trail is fitting for the PNT. No sign, no blaze. The beach continues northward. Day hikers and backpackers gives us quizzed, confused looks as we celebrate the end of a 1,200-mile, 74-day journey.

Epic Olympics – PNT Section 9

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

It’s hard to know where to start to describe our section through the Olympic Mountains. It was vast, dynamic, tough, rugged. We went from mountain passes to river bottoms. We saw salmon swimming in creeks and bathed in hot springs. We were in popular alpine meadows and remote, unmaintained temperate rainforests. We had some of our best views and toughest climbs. We saw hundreds of slugs and ten bears. It was my favorite section and it was physically the hardest section. It. Was. Epic.

We started from Discovery Bay, setting off from the trail angel Greg’s place in the morning. The original route of the PNT runs right through his property (the primary now goes south on hwy 101).

To the best of Greg’s knowledge Ron Strickland, the creator of the PNT, likely came to the property in the late 1970s when he was developing the trail and asked his father-in-law for hiker access. Greg still is excited to allow access rights and has even refurbished an old fish hatchery into a trail shelter for hikers. Amazing!

The first day we walk a combo of some lightly used forest roads and overgrown trail to get us to the start of the Gold Creek Trail. We watch salmon swim upstream as we make camp.

The next day we enter the Buckhorn Wilderness, crest our first pass of the Olympics, and end the day just outside the national park boundary.

Day three begins with a climb and a ridge walk before descending to the Dosewallips River. The views are awesome from the pass. Clear blue sky in every direction!

Another day–surprise, surprise—a stunning pass with crystal clear views and gorgeous trail. After the pass we descend to the Elwha River and spend the rest of the day walking along it. It’s beautiful trail, the river is turquoise blue, and the mossy trees occasionally open to big, grassy campsites. I even find an unopened Clif Bar at the Elkhorn ranger station! Thanks, random hiker!

Day five takes us around a closed road and up to the Olympic hot springs. It’s a weird, post-apocalyptic vibe walking the old road. The signage looks new and the solar-powered audio displays still work. The hot springs are a great midafternoon soak spot. Reluctantly we leave to climb 3,000 feet to Appleton Pass. The camp spot is totally worth it and we are treated to a great sunset.

Day six. Seven Lakes Basin day. The views are insane. Alpine lakes, Mount Olympus, and many frantically foraging bears. Also many other hikers. We even meet a 2008 PNT hiker! The weather is the same as the last five days—clear blue skies in every direction. We end the day by entering the unmaintained Bogachiel River Valley. It’s a quiet contrast from the Seven Lakes Basin.

Day seven. We’ve been warned by other hikers and the rangers that the Bogachiel can be an epic slog over wet rocks, blowdowns, overgrown trail, and “holes with god knows what living in them” (official quote from a park ranger). None of those reports are wrong but they are wildly overblown. We love walking down the remote valley and navigating over the fallen trees and through the bushes.

The trail ends at a trailhead and a it’s a few mile walk to the Bogachiel State Park. The park has bike/hike in sites and (most importantly) the local pizza joint delivers pizza TO YOUR SITE. A perfect end to a week cutting straight through the Olympics.

Puget Pig Out

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

After over two weeks through wilderness, national parks, and battling a stomach bug we are pumped to be walking the Puget Sound section of the PNT. It runs down Fidalgo Island and Whidbey Island just a few hours north of Seattle and passes through numerous small towns. As in, numerous opportunities to eat food. Hot, delicious not freeze dried food.

It involves a lot of road walking but I don’t even care. I’m eating at all the spots the road takes me past. Big breakfast with bottomless coffee? Check.

Lunch at the brew pub a few hours later? Done.

Strawberry shortcake afternoon stop? Oh, hell yes!

Oh, and a taco truck? No problem, the PNT has that covered too. But food aside this section gets us to saltwater for the first time.

The last month or so has become routine. Hike, eat, sleep, repeat. Until now I kind of lost sight of the big picture. Seeing the tidal flats and smelling the salt it all hit me at once: we walked here from Montana. Whoa.

It’s also bittersweet. We have a ways left to go, but our journey will come to an end faster than we realize. Boarding the ferry to the Olympic Peninsula feels like the beginning of the end.

But of course, before we get on the ferry we make sure to eat two sandwiches and a pint of gelato.

Three Times the PNT Tries (and Fails) to Kill Us

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

After nine amazing days getting through the Pasayten Wilderness, the section through the Cascade Mountains starts with equal promise: A trail zero on the sunny, sandy shores of Ross Lake, a walk through giant old growth cedars, and good trail over a couple of great passes. Yep, things are looking great.

But then in the middle of the night at Hannegan Pass a sickness begins. Nasty stomach bug sort of sickness. Not good. The next morning Kate isn’t feeling any better. Luckily we are close to the trailhead and some other campers give us a ride out to Glacier, WA. After 24 hours of rest we are back on the trail. We hike down the Lake Ann and Swift Creek trail and camp near hot springs. Amazing.

Then the next day we slam out a big day around a misty, beautiful Baker Lake and get some great views of Mount Baker. We camp on an old roadbed just miles from Concrete, WA, and plan on an easy walk to town, a motel bed and food and beers and… or would we?

The next morning, in the dim dawn light, I go to retrieve our URSAKs from a nearby tree. They’re up a steep embankment near the road edge. Heading back down the embankment (thinking of coffee) I take one step, two steps, thr- now tumbling downhill I land on my chest near the road edge. Guess that walk to town is going to be a little less fun with these bruised ribs 🙁

But that’s cool. I can deal. We’ll be in a hotel room tonight so no worries. I get my pizza, I get my beer, I get a “loggerdog” (see below) and get ready to sleep. Will be good to go tomorrow.

Around 9 p.m. I think, “My stomach feels kinda funny.” I can’t possibly have the crippling stomach bug Kate did a few days ago. It’s not like we’re in constant contact sharing water bottles, spoons, eating containers or anything.

9:17 p.m. I have the same stomach bug Kate had. Better write off tomorrow as a zero and get ready to watch crappy movies on TV cause as much as I want to get back on the trail that’s not really happening.

So the six days we wanted to take to Concrete have turned to eight. But fear not, we are back on the trail and (mostly) back to health. Nice try PNT, but you can’t hold us down!

The Mighty, Magnificent and Remote Pasayten Wilderness

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

A crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning is how we started our section in the Pasayten Wilderness. Minutes after arriving at the Cold Springs campground the sky opened up and hail started dropping at a fevered pace. Five of us thru-hikers huddled under the shelter of the campground’s privy, each muttering a silent prayer that our tents would hold up to the onslaught.

To get to Cold Springs we had a daunting, treeless 25 miles of paved road to walk. Luckily, it was cloudy for most of those miles. But almost as if on cue the sun came out for our 5,000-foot ascent on the barren Chopka Grade Road. So a few hours later when the temps dropped 20 degrees and hail started falling I wasn’t even mad. In fact it felt awesome; we had finally entered the Pasayten.

The next day the temps hovered in the low 50s. A few miles from camp the views started to open and the vastness of the wilderness in front of us became clear. I particularly enjoyed the slow build of the geography in this section. At first the mountains are smaller and tree lined. By the end they are glacier capped giants.

Unfortunately, a large section of this wilderness has been burned by wildfires in the last few years, but luckily the PNT trail crews have been hard at work clearing many of those blowdowns.

That’s not to say the trail is clear by any means (this is the PNT). One section of trail had an epic “jungle gym” of blowdowns. I had quite a bit of fun crawling, hurtling, and falling over and under them. Honestly, this kind of stuff is why I love this trail. River crossings, route finding, and cross-country traversing are my favorite things about backcountry travel.

The worst blowdown section came a few miles before the PNT briefly overlaps with the PCT. We joked as we hopped over fallen trees and tried to find whatever was left of the trail that the PCT would have the best tread, the flattest campsites and James Beard nominated chefs as trail angels. Turns out the first two are true (sadly the chefs must only donate their time on the weekends).

It was a bit of a culture shock to be on such a busy trail. There were other hikers in our camp! Outrageous. In the 45 days we’ve been on the PNT we’ve met 19 other thru-hikers. In the half day we were on the PCT we met 32 PCTers. The giddy excitement in their eyes being only a few miles from the Canadian border both pumped us up and made us realize we still have a long way to go in our journey.

We said goodbye to the PCT and resumed our trek jumping blowdowns, searching for trail, and taking in jaw-dropping views all by ourselves.

The Trail Turns Hot, Then it Turns Hotter

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

“The heat in the summer is 110. Too hot for the devil, too hot for men.” -Johnny Cash

According to locals yesterday the temp did reach 110 in Oroville. When we walked into town today it cooled a bit, hovering around 100. Joy.

Eleven days and seemingly a lifetime ago we started out of Northport, WA, in section four of the Pacific Northwest Trail. Already at that point we knew heat would be the name of the game for the next two weeks. Early starts and siestas were in, the damp cold rain of the first three weeks of our hike were out.

On top of the heat out of Northport we faced a daunting 40ish miles of road walking to start the section. Most of these are forest roads. Lightly traveled and fairly shaded.

When we got to the start of the trail we were greeted with a nice stretch of blowdowns (yay) and a burned area.

It was about this time that the road walking and the heat were starting to play tricks on our minds when we read a passage from Tim Youngblueth’s PNT guidebook that deviously mentioned that at this point “one could walk from here into Republic in about 15 miles. But our trail continues southward.” Of course at this point I couldn’t help but think of the glories of town: AC, sheets, pizza, cold beers. How many thru-hikers have followed the Sirens’ call down that road? A few miles and much climbing later I envisioned all the thru-hikers enjoying said comforts. Curse you, Tim! Then I saw some bootprints and realized it’s just the heat (probably).

Oh, and water? Yeah, this is how we get it. Gone are the running streams; now we get to share water out of cattle troughs and (sometimes) flowing springs.

However, as Tim foreshadowed, soon after the trail did get better. Wildflowers, ridge walking, and views.

Then a canyon to walk as we rounded out the south side of the loop around Republic.

Republic itself is a real treat of a town. Everything within a few blocks, great pizza, great brewery, and the local trail angel is the postmaster (ie, you can get packages on the weekend if you ask nice).

After Republic we entered section five and the trees became more sparse and the temps got even hotter. We’re talking near 100.

An epic climb up Bonaparte Mountain led us to the only manned lookout tower on the PNT.

Shortly afterward we got to the Havillah church that welcomes hikers. We got to use the kitchen for cooking and there was a fridge stocked with food for us. Most importantly, it offered shade from the relentless sun.

The last morning as we dropped down in elevation to get to Oroville the sun beat down and the air was full of smoke from a fire in Canada. But we were greeted by the friendliest hotel on the PNT!

One more long, hot road walk to go and then the cooler temps and views of the Pasayten Wilderness await.

Lens Swap!

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

Warning: What follows is a nerdy backcountry photography post.

I’m excited. I’m swapping out my Sigma 19mm (28mm APS-C) for a Rokinon 12mm (18mm APS-C).

I really like taking photos. So when I’m out in the backcountry, I have to bring my camera. I use the Sony A6000.

Lens choice is always a big conundrum and my PNT thru-hike was no different. I was on the fence about which lens to take. I went with the Sigma due to its extreme light weight (5.6 ounces) and I thought the focal length would be a good all-around lens. It’s crisp, decently fast at f2.8, the depth of field is nice, and it’s the first auto focus lens I’ve owned in over a decade. The pictures have a very real/matter of fact/documentary style. Straight edges, very angular. I think this would be a great street photography lens. But out here in the big wild country I found the images to be flat and, well, kinda blah. I was uninspired by the lens and felt that due to its documentary “look” I was doing just that—taking pictures to document but not getting into the creative process.

Enter the Rokinon. I love this lens for landscapes and at an f2.0 it’s going to rock if I can stay up/get up early for some astrophotography. It’s a ton of fun to shoot cause the angles are rather unique as it falls into the ultrawide angle lens category. Close-ups get pretty weird with it, too. I love those slightly unreal perspectives. Downsides are it weighs three ounces more and it really is only designed for wide angle shots. But I have my phone (iPhone 7) if I need some tighter shots.

I’m looking forward to exploring and sharing what the lens can do in the backcountry!

Homicide Suspects and the Kindness of Strangers

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

Walking the road into Metaline Falls on a hot 90+ degree day, two cars whip a u-turn and pull up behind us. County sheriff and US Border Patrol. Uh-oh, looks like I’m the latest in a long lineage of PNT hikers who DHS finds suspect.

The sheriff jumps out of his car and starts… belly laughing?

Turns out a concerned local citizen called us in thinking we were two homicide suspects from Canada. The sheriff showed us a photo, we most certainly are not.

After running our IDs he offered us a ride the last mile into town (of course in the back). On the short drive he told us some local history, why he loved living in the town and dropped us a block away from the hotel to “not cause alarm” when checking in. My only regret is not snapping a photo of some part of the event, but I assure you it happened.

Section 3 of the PNT was a stunning stretch of trail (and it was mostly trail!) but what marked it for me was the kindness of the strangers we met along the way.

Our section started at Feist Creek Resort, whose kindness I touched on in my last post, and ended in Northport WA with a stay at Jami and Josh’s wonderful small town oasis. 160 miles total.

After road walks through farmland to cross the Kootenai Valley we started ascending the Parker Ridge. This was the best day of walking on the PNT so far. After a big climb we were treated to ridge-line views for miles and miles. The weather was cool and the rain held off until just before camp.

Then the next day was the bushwhack day. The PNT bills this as the “rite of passage” day. You can either A: bushwhack about seven miles through thick forest where “grizzlies are known to occur” or B: take a ten mile “climber’s route” along a trail-less ridge with class two and three scrambling. Both are estimated to take a full day.

As much as I wanted to take the ridge route I was nervous about my climbing skills and didn’t think this would be the best time or place to find out how good I was. I was feeling a little down about this decision but a few hours into our bushwhack the sky opened up with thunder, lightning and hail. It stormed for the rest of the day and I was sure happy then that I took the low route. Things got a little weird in there but we made it out alive.

The day after the bushwhack we slept in and rewarded ourselves with a short day and a beach camp on Upper Priest Lake, a gorgeous lake and our first rain free day of the trip! A perfect day for swimming and relaxing.

Being a Sunday there were many boaters out on the lake. One particularly rambunctious group pulled up on our beach. Good news, Sunday Funday boaters have two things hikers love: food and beer!

When they heard about our hike the coolers and food baskets opened up and sausage, cheese and cold, cold beers emerged (cue a choir of angels singing)!

The next day was a beautiful stretch of trail through old growth cedars and along another ridge-line. There were limited spots to camp so at the late hour the best place we could find was in a trailhead parking in front of the PNT trail crew truck.  Thanks PNT!

Then into Metaline Falls (after the sheriff incident) where the Washington Hotel was something out of a hikers dream. Laundry, coffee, town clothes, soft sheets and the owner Arlie who despite not knowing really how the hotel ran was just absolutely excited to host hikers. Then Mary another trail angel, who owns the local theater, opened it up for a special hiker only screening of Toy Story 4. We’re killing it!

It was hard to leave but the trail called us up Abercrombie Mt for a stunning night on a ridge and time to sew some holes in our shoes.

The walk into Northport the next day was less than ideal (hot paved roads for ~19 miles) but it was totally worth it. The Mustang Grill literally opened the door for us and served up a huge meal. Then a short walk down the road to trail angel Jami and Josh’s beautiful house and perfect backyard for a day and night of relaxing, eating and great conversation.

The kindness showed to us on this leg of the journey makes leaving a tough thing to do, but section 4 awaits!

Hey PNT: I Still Love You but the Honeymoon Is Over

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

Don’t get the wrong idea, we’re having a great time but section two of the PNT has more road walking, fewer alpine views, and more up and down. To be fair, the first section through the majestic mist-shrouded peaks of Glacier was always going to be a tough act to follow.

Physically the initial boost of energy and excitement has waned as we set in for the long haul. The day to day of thru-hiking has become more routine and less novel. My body seems to tire easier and recover slower. The road walking is harder on the feet than trails.

But hey, PNT, you’re still amazing.

I was enticed by the quiet, subdued beauty in this section. Dark, dense forests that seem to have stood for ages. Rugged mountain trails littered with wildflowers. Secret waterfalls to swim in. Fire lookouts with endless views to stay in (in fact you could line up the first three to four days of this section to stay exclusively in lookouts!).

Yaak was a great anything goes trail town. Pitch the tent anywhere. $4 burgers. Live music. And maybe even laundry if they can find the key by the time you come. The huckleberries are also ripening!

Feist Creek Falls Resort welcomed us in with open arms (even though they were technically closed) and to a special once a year Vietnamese meal.

Just when I started to despair all of the road walking, we hit a great alpine section with bountiful wildflowers and lots of views of the mountains that surround us. Including views back to the now tiny peaks of Glacier where we started seemingly so long ago. And views of what’s to come in section three with the mighty Selkirks looming to the west.

The honeymoon’s over, but PNT, our relationship is just getting started.