The End of a Journey

On August 12th at 8:34 am, Paws, Monochrome, and I touched the monument marking the northern terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail. After 144 days of walking north, I was done. Tears welled up in my eyes but didn’t fall down my face. I felt empty and ecstatic. I felt nothing and everything—relief to be done, and sadness that it was over. 

Crossing the OR/WA border with my mom

Washington was my favorite section; the dark green pine tree forests and huge volcanic mountains made every day feel like a true adventure. After a zero-day in Portland with my mom, she drove us back to Cascade Locks where we walked over the Bridge of the Gods. Leaving Oregon and entering Washington felt surreal—my last state on the PCT. My mom turned around after a few miles, and it soon started to rain. I found Paws and Monochrome after 13 miles in their tent. They had become too cold from the rain to continue hiking. I was relieved to stop for the day; I always struggled after town day. 

I woke up to Paws and Monochrome frantically packing up. Their tent had turned into a pool overnight and they had woken up to multiple inches of rain under their sleeping pads. I was grateful that my tent had held up through the downpour, I only had a small puddle in the corner of my tent. I slowly packed up, putting on my wet clothes from the day before. As I started hiking, my legs brushed up against the overgrown plants along the trail which soaked my rain pants even more. Luckily the morning was almost all uphill and I warmed up quickly, distracting myself by listening to podcasts and audiobooks. 

Washington had stunning wildflowers

Two days later we arrived at Trout Lake where I picked up my first resupply box of Washington. While in Portland I had mailed four resupply boxes ahead so I didn’t have to food shop for the rest of the trail. In Trout Lake, I washed my socks, ate a bell pepper, and got a shuttle back to the trail in the evening where I got eaten by biting flies while setting up my tent. 

The next day I hiked by Mt Adams, an amazing volcano in the Cascade Range. Although I was mentally and physically tired from pushing my body day after day, the views of the snow-capped volcano kept my spirits high. I walked through fields of wildflowers, and green forests blocking the sunlight making for cooler hiking. 

When not hiking through forests, the trail had stunning views

I woke up eager for the day; I was hiking through the Goat Rocks Wilderness, known as one of the most scenic stretches on the PCT. Within the Goat Rocks is a 3-mile stretch called the Knife’s Edge, where the trail has steep drop-offs on either side. As someone afraid of heights I was both nervous and excited for the Knife’s edge. The hike up to it was brutal, gaining 3,000 feet of elevation after lunch to get to the start of the 3-mile stretch.

Once at the start of the Knife’s Edge, we traversed 3 snow fields. I was reminded how much I dislike hiking across snow, although I could tell how much more confident I am on snow after spending a month on snow in the Sierra. 

Crossing the snow traverses

Paws pointed out some mountain goats in the valley below us, living up to his trail name as I would have not spotted them if he hadn’t said anything. The views of Rainier were insane, and I had to stop every couple of minutes to look around and take it all in. This was my favorite section of trail in Washington, and maybe on the entire PCT. After 26 miles and 5,500ft of elevation for the day, we found an amazing campsite with views of Rainier and surrounding mountains.

Paws, Monochrome, and I camped with two southbound hikers, their excitement for the trail radiating off of them and spreading good vibes to the three of us. The sunset was my favorite one on the trail, the sky lit up a rainbow of pinks and oranges. As I got in my tent, the rainfly open so I could continue watching the sunset as I fell asleep, I texted my mom, “I am so happy right now.” 

A perfect sunset to end a perfect day

I hiked into White Pass, where I picked up my next resupply box and camped for the night. The next couple of days I got progressively more tired and excited to reach Canada. My mental fortitude was slowly dwindling, and I could feel my body screaming at me as I forced it to continue north. I had a hard time enjoying each moment because all I could think about was how ready I was to be done. 

The last night before reaching Snoqualmie I cowboy camped for the first time in months. I love cowboy camping and I hoped it would help me reconnect with nature and reinstate the enjoyment of the trail that had disappeared. I woke as the sun rose and stared at the dark green forest canopy above me. Although I was still exhausted, I was able to take a moment to appreciate where I was, and how I had gotten there.

The Knifes edge

That night I stayed at the Washington Alpine Club, an amazing cabin for PCT hikers with dinner and breakfast cooked for you. Paws got a text from a hiker ahead of us stating that he watched a wildfire start from a lightning strike just 25 miles north of where we were. 

After a quick discussion with Paws and Monochrome, we decided to skip that section and go straight to Harts Pass. We didn’t want to wait around to see if the fire would be put out and we were worried that a fire would start near the northern terminus and we wouldn’t be able to get to Canada. The rest of the trail north was closed to Harts Pass already due to wildfires, so we had already planned to skip that section. 

A friend’s dad was able to come and pick us up the next day and drive us the 4 hours to Harts Pass. When we arrived, it started to rain and thunder so we set up camp. The road to Harts Pass is the last road that the PCT crosses before Canada, so after reaching the northern terminus I planned to turn around and hike south back to the road where my hike would officially end. 

View of Rainier

I set off, I had only 30 miles to the northern terminus and 60 miles until I never had to hike again. The terrain was stunning, as I walked through open fields with huge granite mountains surrounding me, I reflected on my journey. 

Although I didn’t hike every single mile of the PCT due to wildfires, I still felt like a thru-hiker. I still felt proud of myself. I had pushed through the Sierra even when I wanted to flip around the snow. In Norcal, I had overcome the heat wave and pushed on. I had walked through Oregon, not showering or doing laundry for almost two weeks. I had continued onto Washington, even though my mental and physical strength had been all used up in the prior 2,000 miles. 

Paws and I in the last week of the PCT

On the last night of the PCT before getting to the northern terminus, I camped next to a stunning lake. As I fell asleep, a thunderstorm rolled through. Ground shaking thunder and lightning so bright I could see it even with my eyes closed engulfed my tent. One final goodbye from the PCT.

The next morning I walked through the overgrown trail with wet plants brushing the sides of my legs. My heart started to beat faster and I got butterflies in my stomach as I approached the monument. 

On August 12th at 8:34 am, Paws, Monochrome, and I touched the monument marking the northern terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail and the border of the United States and Canada. After 144 days of walking north, I was done. Tears welled up in my eyes but didn’t fall down my face. I felt empty and ecstatic. I felt nothing and everything—relief to be done, and sadness that it was over. It didn’t feel real. I had walked from Mexico to Canada.

At the northern terminus

As we celebrated and signed the log book, more hikers came flowing down to the monument, celebrating the completion of their hike from Mexico. Many of them I had never met before, yet I felt close to them. 

After hanging out at the monument for almost two hours, I turned around and started hiking southbound for the first time. It was 30 miles back to the road, a final victory lap. As the road came into view, tears once again filled my eyes. But this time, they fell down my face. I stepped onto the pavement and embraced Paws and Monochrome. We had done it. I had done it. 

Paws, Monochrome, and I at the northern terminus