From: "Greg Walter" Subject: Carrot Update #5 Date: Sat, 26 Sep 1998 01:40:03 PDT Hello from Seattle (actually it's suburbs), Washington, for me, was everything I had heard it would be, and in some ways better because the weather remained perfect through-out, something relatively uncommon in September. The first section north to White Pass ended up being the only part of the whole hike from Donner that I went alone, and thus did more miles per day than at any other time, averaging 26. This was because I wanted to reach Snoqualmie Pass in time to meet AJ and Chris when they arrived there. Mount Adams, a huge, 12,000+ volcano was the first main highlight. The PCT skirts the entire west side, staying below tree-line at the 6,000 foot level before dropping off on the north slope. I could actually hear the sound of a shifting glacier high above. Only a day later I was already in the even more spectacular goat rocks wilderness, where the trail reaches 7,000 feet, crosses some glaciers and traverses a sharp knife-edge ridge with Rainier right in front of you (see jardine cover). It was on the smallest of the permanent snow fields - only about 50 feet wide - that I had the biggest scare of my hike. By 11am the sun still had not touched it, and was therefore rock hard. With no crampons, ice axe, or even poles, I faced the situation of falling 1 to 2 thousand vertical feet down if I was to slip. So I kicked in one-inch steps with my boots, and it felt like chiseling out of solid ice. I made it across, but not without tearing a whole in the sole of one boot. If I'd been there only a few hours later, it would have been nothing to write home about. White Pass to Snoqualmie Pass was very much a mix of scenery, and I ended up hiking that section with a guy from Bellingham who was doing Washington. After about a day we ended up right on the Mount Rainier National Park boundary, with the 14,000+ foot peak directly in front of us. For over 30 miles the trail stays very high and begins to take on the appearance of the North Cascades section that everyone always talks about. We saw two mountain goats (most people see more), and at our campsite by Basin Lake we heard the whistles of Elk all night, the sign of mating season. Then, after Government Meadow, the sights changed suddenly and dramatically, from ideal sub-alpine ridges to many miles of checker board clear-cut, through which the PCT is now permanently routed. It is definately an amazing feeling to pass from clear-cut to old growth/virgin stand (very big trees) in a matter of seconds. The contrast is intense, and is something that should be experienced by everyone, no matter what a person's position on logging. For a mountain pass, Snoqualmie is far too busy, crowded, loud, expensive, and whatever else a hiker new to the area wouldn't expect for such a location, but I was looking forward to being there anyway since that was where AJ and Chris were to join me. On the same day that they flew in from New England, had to buy a new stove in Seattle because the airlines refused to let them board with it, drove all the way up to the trail head to meet me, plus being out of thru-hiker shape, we managed a 2,500 foot climb out of the pass and seven miles before dark. They were running on pure adrenaline, which was helped by the sights of some very rugged, sharp topography. For them it was a great introduction to the North Cascades. The entire way to Stevens Pass consists of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness area, filled with jagged peaks, glaciers, and, as one might suspect, lakes. It's nice enough that it was at one time considered for National Park designation. It was through here that we met three more of the few thru-hikers to have made it throught the High Sierra durring the near record June snowpack. I listened to them trade dramatic tales of having to literally swim across evolution creek, and making the discovery that yes, backpacks DO float. It made me glad that I made the decision to postpone my High Sierra hike until another time. By Stevens Pass, Chris was having some significant blister problems, and after a night in Skykomish, he made the decision to take a break while AJ and I hiked the next section to Stehekin, where we'd meet up with him again. As we approached the Glacier Peak Wilderness, arguably the highlight of the northern PCT, a snow storm was looming in the forecast. So we decided to try to time our mileage so we'd be below 5,000 feet when it hit, which meant doing some big days. In the end, however, the storm failed to materialise, and the weather stayed perfect all the way to Stehekin. From the west slopes of Glacier Peak itself, we could see the entire range from Baker in the north to Rainier in the south. Meadows went right up the sides of the mountain, and marmots were seemingly everywhere - we got a photo of one three feet away while a mama bear and a cub were running up the meadow at the same time. By the time we got to Lake Chelan (Stehekin), we had distinctly passed from the wet (west) side of the range to the dry, eastern rain shadow side in town. The difference is about 100 inches of precipitaion per year (120 at Red Pass and 20 at the lake). Lake Chelan is one of the deepest lakes in the US, and is reminiscent of Norway's fiords in the way the topography rises out of the water. The town is also unusual because it's only accessible by boat or floatplane, so when all the tourists go home, it's very quiet and isolated. Of interest to thru-hikers, it also has free showers, free camping, and quite possibly the best bakery anywhere on the big three trails. With Chris back on the hike, the three of us had our one and only real rain day the second day out of Stehekin, coincidentally occuring as we went through Rainy Pass, so we were glad to find someone to take our picture in front of the sign with our rain jackets on, and looking quite cold and wet. But a few days later we were quick to notice that Foggy Pass was not foggy, and Windy Pass was not at all windy. The last thirty miles of the hike to Canada brought us through the Pasayten Wilderness, which for AJ was very similar to the grandeur he had experienced in the High Sierra last year. A much drier area than the western side of the range, most storms are less severe by the time they get here, and I noticed that the resulting tree-line is about a thousand feet higher here as well. On the afternoon of the 22nd we reached the Canadian border, which simply consists of the cleared swath, monument 78 (with register inside if you can lift the damn thing), and a nice PCT northern terminus monument. After camping on the Canadian side, we pushed the last 8 miles out to the road the next morning, failed miserably in our attempt to hitch to Vancouver, and finally settled for the bus which got us there comfortably in one piece. Unfortunately, I was unable to see my friends Marmot and Monk in town, who I know from my original AT hike, but managed to reach them by phone, and they'll both be at the ALDHA west Gathering. The final leg of our trip was an awesome Amtrak ride from Vancouver to Seattle, which was enhanced by a phenomenal sunset over Puget Sound, and a great $11.00 ticket price (AJ has a legendary talent in finding good deals). I'm certainly not finished with the PCT, and I plan to be back next year, hopefully for the whole thing, and maybe more than that. We'll see. Some have wondered if the sheer scale and beauty of western mountains and hiking in comparison with the east would make me less enthusiastic about being on the AT, but I think it has instead created the opposite feeling. Being out here has made me appreciate and miss the Appalachian Mountains more than I ever have, because they are so different, and offer a kind of beauty that exists no where else. In a relative world, a satisfying long distance hike need not require miles of open views and glacier clad 12,000 foot peaks. A long green tunnel can offer just as much, and I haven't had my fill of either. Take care everyone, and keep in touch. Until next time, Greg, "The Weathercarrot"