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Pacific Northwest Trail; mile 204.1

Sunday August, 4, 2019; Day 15

I woke to a knock on the apartment door. It was followed by a call: “breakfast is ready!”

“Okay. Thank you! I will be right down.”

I sat with George at their round wooden table as we ate a breakfast of oatmeal and dried berries. Then George was off to tend to a neighbors dog. The couple offered to give me a ride back to the trail on their way to church, at 0930.

Back in the apartment I reviewed the maps. There is an extensive amount of road walking ahead. My guidebook reads “due to the lightning-caused wildfire in July 2018, the PNT was closed between French-Carver Road –FR5827 and the Rock Candy Mountain Trail 461. At publication, there are no reports of trail conditions.”

The upcoming section was dry as well. I cannot wait until water is prevalent again!

Caroline came up as I was bandaging my feet. We chatted. She warned me to be cautious. She said that I would mostly run in to huckleberry pickers out their, but sometimes their could be unsavory who use the backwoods as a place for drug deals. “You can tell by their eyes”, she said. She told me that she would pray for me. That warmed my heart.

I washed my almond butter container, and filled up on water. I was ready!

Oh how nice they looked, all dressed up for church!

Then, I was on the road, again.

After a few miles I stopped for a coffee break. A car stopped and the man inside asked if I was okay. Later, another car stopped and offered me water. The people in Montana are tremendously kind.

I reflected on all of the wonderful people who have showed me kindness on this journey thus far.

The afternoon sun and hard concrete made for an unforgiving pair..

So much road.

I listened to music and danced with my shadow.

At around 1521 an elderly couple in a van offered me a ride to the top of the hill. Again, I declined. This time I wondered what sort of relationships I could be missing out on by denying rides in favor of a continuous footpath.

I came to a roadside stream and took a break. This time I removed my shoes and socks and elevated my feet.

I put some of the dehydrated soup mix to soak. I had not been able to see the product before purchase, as I had bought it online. It was a little heavier than the previous dehydrated soups I had carried. I was a tad concerned that it would not soak as efficiently. Only time will tell.

The van containing the elderly couple was making its return trip down the hill.  Gary and Judy introduced themselves. They were huckleberry pickers. They held out a plastic milk jug filled with berries. They let me try one so that I might recognize the berry as I journeyed forward. I thanked them.

I looked to the east after reaching the top of the hill. I gazed down to where I had journeyed from. I let out a howl.

Oh, how glorious to be on trail again!

I passed through many spider webs. Their magnificent designs were beautifully highlighted as the setting sun cast slivers of illumination about the forest.

I walk around them when I can. Especially those that have rather large residents. When I don’t catch sight of one in time, the sticky threads attach themselves to my body by little points and dance in the wind of my cadence.

I passed a very pretty “200” mile marker, adorned with little pine cones.

I stop to eat my soup. It is a tad crunchy, but still edible, enjoyable even.

Then again, the trail joins a forest road.

At the Forest Road 5902 junction, I chose to stick to the original PNT, bypassing the Northwest Peak Scenic Area alternate. Though the views are said to be fantastic, it was also supposed to be quite challenging, with cross-country scrambling and route-finding. At this point, I was not entirely comfortable attempting it solo.

I continued my roadside trek.

Finally, about a mile or so shy of Midge Creek Trail 177, I found a pull-out area that was large and flat enough to set up a tent and not fear being ran over. Tomorrow is Monday, I am hoping this will help eliminate the chance of vehicles.

My tent smelled like mold. I used a wet wipe to clear the white dust (mold?) that lingered on the tent ceiling.

I unfurled my sleeping bag, slipped inside, and fell to asleep.

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Pacific Northwest Trail; mile 184.0

Saturday, August 3, 2019 day 14

I rose, slipped on my sandals, puffy, and raincoat. I descended the wooden staircase in the powerful morning wind to relieve myself.

My moon-time had come. The new moon was only days ago, I was syncing…or was it the loads of phytoestrogen I have consumed in the form of textured soy protein? Either way, it had arrived. No wonder I ate so much yesterday.

Hopefully my energy will now rise.  I need to increase my my mileage. I have consistently been averaging 15 miles per day. I need be averaging 20. Carrying over four liters of water at a time due to these water-less stretches, certainly has not helped.

How disoriented I had gotten atop Mount Henry in the night!  Via continuous checks of my compass, I was certain I was headed the right way. Water, here I come!

I located the Vinal Creek Trail and made my descent. I came to the Turner Falls junction and headed towards Fish Lake. I crossed a small bridge over Vinal Creek.

I stopped just passed the bridge and returned to collect some water. I was stung. After filtering my collection and returning for more, I noticed a hive attached to the underside of the bridge. I moved upstream for the rest of my collection.

As I sat and enjoyed a meal, I reviewed the maps and guidebooks. Another waterless climb with unclear routing was ahead. There was another option, however — an unofficial alternate that follows Vinal Creek for 3 miles before hitting Forest Road 746 and rejoining the PNT. I did not have maps to illustrate the route, but I was able to locate it on my GPS.

I was tired. The afternoon was hot. I was eager to reach the community of Yaak. I turned back to the Turners Falls Junction and took the Vinal Creek Trail.

Half way through, I was pleased with my decision.

The trail was fairly well maintained. There were tall grasses that minimized trail visibility in some areas, and many of the numerous bridges were not in the best of shape (though all stood up to my weight), but I was always certain I was headed in the right direction. The nearby creek was comforting, and the many trees provided refuge from the hot afternoon sun.

By 1534 I was roadside!

After a few miles of walking on gravel, I took a break on the side of the road. When I lifted my pack I noticed a circle of water. I realized that my pack had been resting on the hose of my water bladder, and it had been leaking. I felt momentary panic. Not too much was lost. I need to be more cautious.

I feel like an underdog at the back of the pack, but I will give it my all.

This trail has certainly proved challenging. That is when I seem to truly learn, however, when I throw myself out there. When I take on something that stirs fear within me, something I am barely ready for.

So much road.

By 1733 I had reconnected to the PNT (which was still road).

A pick-up truck drove by and offered me a ride. I kindly declined. He told me to make sure to hang a left when I hit pavement.

I watched a very large bird soar through the air. I followed the bend in the road to see another hop around something of interest, then fly off as it noticed me. The item of interest remained. I approached with curious excitement. It was toilet paper.

By 2000 I was heading southwest on Yaak River Rd.

The community of Yaak was still about 7 miles off trail. I headed towards the community, sticking my thumb out at each passing vehicle.

A car passed, but only granted me a wave.

I called to the universe aloud, asking that it please send me a ride.

A car appeared in the distance. I stood, arm proudly outstretched, right thumb displayed.

A grin spread across my face as I noticed the car slow.

George was just returning home after procuring some fresh eggs from a neighbor down the road. He stopped his car and I jumped in. I told him I was heading to The Yaak Mercantile and Tavern. He asked if I was getting my “resupply”. He was hip to the thru-hiker lingo.

“I always stop for you guys,” he said “you always have such good stories!”

On our way towards Yaak he mentioned that he and his wife have an apartment behind their home that I was free to stay in for the night, if I’d like.

“Really!? I would love that!”

He waited as I asked the Tavern to retrieve my package. We then set off to his home.

He told me that him and his wife had been coming up to this property for over twenty years, but they had only recently completed building their home there. They had built a little apartment in the back for when family came over– it was complete with a little kitchen, bathroom, and hot water!

As we drove George began to tell me about his wife, Caroline. The way he spoke of her made my heart melt and rekindled my belief in lasting love.

When we arrived and entered their beautiful home, he called out: “I brought back a hiker.” Caroline was sitting on the couch in their living room, all smiles and kindness.

“You like bok-choy?” George asked.

“Yes!”

“How about carrots?”

“Yeah!”

Straight away he began preparing me a hot bowl of ramen and veggies.

I sat at their round wooden dinner table and sipped hot soup and noodles, while George and Caroline sat on their couches with their two sweet dogs. We chatted comfortably until my meal was completed. They told me that there was some controversy concerning the routing of the trail through that area. Many people were concerned with the impact that the trail may have on the grizzly bear population, and were fighting to have the trail re-routed further south. Caroline then offered me some fresh, unfiltered apple and kale juice, straight from their garden! My body rejoiced!

I used their telephone to call my mom, and  they showed me to my room.

I felt so blessed. Their kindness and encouragement was positively uplifting. It was people like themselves that help give me the strength to carry on.

This trail is hard.

I took a hot shower and watched the dirt run from my body. I scrubbed and scrubbed. Flaps of hardening skin hang from my feet where blisters have popped and new ones are forming.

The thick pink carpet felt divine on my battered toes.

I hand washed my bandannas and undergarment and set them to dry in front of a fan.

I repackaged my food (on a counter!), set my devices to charge, and comfortably fell to sleep.