I’m not ready for it to end

The trail is slightly overgrown. My hands get wet as I brush them against the moist scrubs. My steps are light as I dance over pebbles and rocks. A drum of anxiety revolves in my consciousness. I notice an opening coming up on the trail. Light is pushing through the canopy of the trees. The forest is silent around me, but my mind is racing. Emotions and tears are building up. I’m smiling and at the same time I’m heartbroken. I see the terminus. I’m done but I don’t think I’m ready yet.

“A lot can happen in ten seconds if you really take notice of what is happening as described in the previous paragraph” – this will be my narrative of some of my moments walking through Washington.

I found myself walking across the Bridge of the Gods. A surreal feeling finishing another state. Oregon was now behind me and Washington was welcoming me over. It welcomed us like the desert had so many months before, with rain. As I climbed up the first hill, raindrops danced around me and fog made the forest look magical.

Since I broke my rain jacket in the Sierra I have only carried an emergency poncho. Which was of course at the bottom of my pack. My clothes were drenched by the time our tent was set up, my hands numb from the cold and as I warmed myself up in my quilt I fell to a deep slumber.

I was woken up by Amanda before 5am. “There is a kiddie pool inside the tent”, she said as I got up. The groundsheet had trapped the water on top of it and it had leaked into the tent. Everything was soaked, and the day was quite miserable as we walked with wet clothes. Back in Northern California we always wished for rain to give us a break from the heatwave and now I wished for a heatwave to dry all my gear out.

Biting flies made us minimize our lunch breaks, and mosquitoes made us escape into our tents as soon as we made camp in the evenings. ”Really Washington, is this what it will be like”, I thought?

Then came the views of Mt. Adams, then Mt. Rainier. The trail went through lush green forests into narrow ridgelines and beautiful valleys. The beauty of Washington was opening up and my heart was full of joy, excitement and I could hear the whoops and hollers inside my head.

I marvelled at the vistas as we walked through Goat Rocks wilderness. Knife’s Edge was all and more than I had ever imagined. Narrow, exposed and exciting. Even got a few snowy traverses along the way. ”Snow in august? That’s just wrong”, I thought while I took short but steady steps along it.

We saw a few locals running along the slopes. They looked more agile with their hoofs than we on the loose rocks. But I believe they were happy to see us roaming along their hillside home. We pitched our tents as the sky turned bright orange. Mt. Rainier was lit up and it was hard to retrieve into the tent when I just wanted to stay up and keep taking photos.

Once we got to White Pass we learned that a new fire had started just south of us. I felt sorry for the hikers behind us. They wouldn’t be able to experience Goat Rocks unless they hiked south from White Pass and then back north again. But for us the path was leading north, towards Snoqualmie. The terrain was easy, no steep climbs and good trail. That is something Washington has really provided: good trail with minimal blowdowns.

With five days of food in our bags we carried along. Taking our time to enjoy the scenery and talking about all the things that had happened during the last months. Some memories from the trail seemed so distant, and some early ones seemed like they had happened the day before.

Seeing Snoqualmie for the first time wasn’t what I had expected. For some reason I had pictured a tiny peaceful ski town but it looked more like a large truck stop along the highway. But we did find haven at the Washington Alpine Club across the road. A peaceful oasis with a long history of climbing and skiing. National Geographic magazines from the 1930’s, old gear hanging from the walls and welcoming hosts.

This is where we received a message from Disco. He was a day ahead of us and had seen a fire that had started right in front of him on the trail. The firewatch app showed a new logo of a flame between Snoqualmie and Stevens Pass. The anxiety started to build up when someone said there was a red flag warning for the North Cascades. What if a new fire would start before the border, what if the terminus could not be reached?

As always Spring’s amazing friends came through and Jeff, Victoria’s father, picked us up the next day and drove us all the way to Harts Pass. It is unfortunate that fires have made thruhiking the PCT harder . But I am grateful I am doing this now and not ten years from now, as I fear most of the trail will go through burn scars then.

Jeff, our PCT uber driver steered his Volvo up the dirt road to Harts Pass, where we unloaded the car and walked to the ranger station. We had planned to walk some miles that night but a glooming thunder storm made us make camp at the parking lot. The decision was a good one as our gear stayed dry and the next morning was bright and sunny.

We traversed along the mountains and as the border started to get closer, we got excited. 25 miles, 20 miles, 15 miles, the icon of Canada got closer on the Farout app. We passed the highest point of the PCT in Washington in the afternoon. Hazy views of the Cascades were in front of us and dark clouds gathered on top of us. Another thunder storm was arriving. We pitched our tents at a lake, six miles from the monument.

The echoes of thunder filled the valley around us, the flashes of lightning kept me awake. I couldn’t sleep. We were so close, but what if a fire would break out. I wouldn’t care I thought, I would run through fire if I needed. I was determined to touch that monument.

We woke up to clear weather. Somehow we had all fallen asleep even with loud thunder all around us. We left our tents pitched and made our way down the hill. Overgrown trail brushed against us, my mind racing. Emotions building up. We are almost done. I’m not ready. I don’t want this to end, even if I do. Tears are building up and then overtaken by a smile. Every emotion is coming and going. There is a clearing, I can see the monument, I did it, no we did it. Smiles, hugs and high fives. Joy, sadness, hear full of joy and then sadness that changes into joy. What is going on?

Not a lifelong dream but a very long dream full-filled. Time to walk 30 miles back and figure out what just happened.

The trail is over, but the journey continues…