August 4,2018 From Frosty Pass to just past Sky Pilot Pass.
In the morning I heard a couple more deer make their way across the pass while I tried to wake up. I was in a cloud. Literally. The cloud cover had dropped. However, it quickly lifted while I was packing, even showing hints of blue in the west.
I was going to spend a good chunk of the day on the Pacific Crest Trail, the Pacigic Northwest Trail’s famous cousin. Importantly, PCT hikers would be nearing the end of their 2,600 mile journey as Canafa was just a few miles north.
I packed swiftly and rambled down to the legendary trail. “Where did I go wrong?” I have hiked the Grand Enchantment Trail, Continental Divide Trail, Superior Hiking Trail, Border Route Trail, and now part of the PNT. Generally considered rougher trails, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I got on the PCT. 18 inches of perfect tread. Even over scree it was city-park easy.
Within 20 minutes, I met my first PCT hiker, a German lady who was excited to finish but needed to go back south to cover areas she skipped due to fire. She used hiking poles. Soon, others appeared. All were excited about their impending milestone, not a one interested in my trip at all. Which is ok.
I spent 12 miles on the PCT and met 14 hikers. All different shapes and ages. An observation I have about backpackers is that they do not look like they were picked in the first or second round in PE. All different types of people just decide to get up and go. I think that is absolutely great.
There were some great views from the PCT, including my first marmot of the trip.
All good things must come to an end. Eventually, I turned off the PCT on the trail to Devils Dome. Almost immediately there was a tree across the trail…welcome back to the PNT.
There had been some clouds, but nothing like thunderheads in the Midwest. I was hoping to camp up high again.
There some interesting flowers. The first one reminded me of a Dr. Seuss creature.
Around 4:00, I heard distant thunder. Within a half hour, I could see flashes and heard thunder nearby. This was bad given how dry the forests were. I was now going to just go over Sky Pilot Pass and camp early.
That plan changed when lightning struck very nearby. I used my satellite device to text my wife for any info on fires and weather. In the meantime, I stored my pack, grabbed my rain gear, and scooted downhill to wait out the lightning. It started raining, which was good for the forest.
Quickly, my wife texted me information on fires (none nearby), the weather (big rain), the position of Russian submarines in the north Pacific, and a new lead on Jimmy Hoffa’s body. I don’t know how she does it. Even more, I don’t know how I could do this without her.
Eventually, the thunder and lightning stopped. The rain diminished but the trail was a creek. I did make it over Sky Pilot Pass and located the flattish area indicated by the topographic map. I was pretty wet and the inside of the tent was my only dry sanctuary.
After eating dinner under the branches of a large spruce, I plopped down to sleep. As I was laying there, I heard a loud slow crashing sound, like a quiet herd of cattle slowly stampeding. I got out to look. I figured it out: landslide. I looked up and sure enough the hillside was steep and the good drenching just naturally loosened things up.
Back in the tent, I lay awake wondering about a landslide reaching me. Then, I looked at the map and, sure enough, tomorrow’s trail went across some very steep slopes. What if they washed out?
Then, I told myself to get a grip. Was I going to worry about plague and pestilence too? Enough. Worrying wasn’t going to change anything.
Once I got my head straight, it was a lot easier to get to sleep.
backpacking over the hill 