Tag: trail signs

Old 99

August 12, 2018 From motel in Sedro-Woolley to Lily Lake on Chukanut Mountain.

I was foggy from a bad sleep and seemed to pack in a similar manner. I only had around 20 miles today and most would be on pavement. Reluctantly, I left my smoky crime-scene room.

I stopped at a lonely gas station and got a coffee and corn nuts, a champion’s breakfast. Fortunately, I had also purchased hard-boiled eggs from the grocery last night.

I needed to take a few connecting backroads to get me over to “old Highway 99” which went north to Alger and later intercepted the trail. It was a pleasant walk with little Sunday morning traffic. A few dairy farms provided me with an audience.

Later, I passed a classic farmhouse that was in great condition. The owner was out ffront and we started chatting. Then his wife and their dog also came out. They had questions about the rail and the man was an avid mountain biker who knew many of the areas the PNT traversed. They were so kind, offering me waffles, other food, and water. Truly one of the great things about backpacking is running into such kind, helpful people.

The walk up old 99 was boring, with less RV and truck traffic than 20 or Baker Lake Road. I was able to finish one audio book {WHEN: The Scientific Secrets of Perfect Timing, by Daniel Pink…apologies for not remembering the MLA way to cite a book.}

“Break out the champagne! I landed the gravel pit listing!”

Up the road was Alger. During planning I had picked out Alger as a resupply place. Indeed, we mailed a resupply package to the motel there already. However, when looking for a place to send replacement shoes, Alger was sold out. Apparently DirtCUP 2018 was happening at the Skagit Raceway and that naturally drew in a crowd. When I went by, there were only a handful of RVs left at the Skagit Raceway. I learned also that yesterday/last night had been Ladies Night, a huge draw I’m sure.

I ate at the local pub. If you like good food, sticky tables, worn carpeting, and love the 65-year old Harley couple scene, this place would be heaven for you.

I trudged up the Old 99. Just before it intersected the trail and passed under Interstate 5, a couple asked me if anyone was looking for a dog. They had found it in a county park. Can you believe it was not on a leash when they found it? About 20 minutes later, I came across a “Lost Dog” flyer for a different dog that was lost locally.

Late in the day I finally got off pavement as the trail went into a forest area owned by the state Department of Natural Resources. It was a confusing route, not matching the maps. Indeed, some old-school person had placed white trail markings correctly.

Amazingly, just when I was getting a little lost, I ran into another backpacker. It was a hiker with the trail name of Not Guilty. We found the trail and hiked together until reaching Lily Lake, a pretty good campground right next to the trail. It was nice to finally meet somebody else hiking the trail. An experienced backpacker, he was enjoyable to spend time with. He said he was a late sleeper, I said I was an early riser, but he said it is hard to wake him up, so I said I’d probably be gone when he got up. Tomorrow would be his birthday. I told him I did not get him anything.

I had a new sleeping pad. It was nice and clean, but a little squeaky. The first time I had shared a campsite since Glacier and I am sleeping on a pad that makes a lot of noise anytime I move. Staying as still as possible, I eventually nodded off.

A Beautiful Decline

July 11, 2018 From Bussard Mtn to Highway 95.

I woke up at 5:30 and tried to sleep in. It worked a little, but by 6:30 I was too restless.

The fire still had some embers, amazingly. During the night I had to get up once and there was a glow from the fire on the ground and brilliant starlight above. I had not seen the milky way in two years.

I tried to pack slow knowing I had a lot of waiting ahead. I used some of the miracle water to make sure the fire was totally out. I dispersed the fire stones and used forest debris to mask where the fire had been.

Gathering my food hang, I was finally ready to go. It was glorious hiking.

Almost immediately I had views down into the Kootenai valley. There were some low clouds in the valley and the sun shone on the next mountain range to tackle, the Selkirks.

The Kootenai valley was beautiful. Large patches of canola crops made for yellow patchwork.

The other side was beautiful, just without a big valley.

The trail meandered for a few miles. There had been a lot of stabilizing work and trail-raising. I suspect there were motorcycle fees that had been allocated and this trail won. I didn’t mind as long as no motor bikes used it while I was on it :-).

The well-maintained bike trail went right, but my foot trail veered to the left. Of course, the trail sign had misspelled the word Bethlehem.

…and there was no room at the in. Poor baby Jess.

I didn’t mind. As I went down I passed a tree that produced 100s of perfectly shaped pinecones.

There were also some interesting meadows.

These white flowers are about the size of a thumb tip, but can grow in eye-catching clumps.
Finally, a butterfly that would hold still.
This burned tree had about 80% burned through but still stood.

Alas, I arrived at highway 95. I had four hours before the trail angel in town could pick me up. I tried hitchhiking, but it was not an ideal spot. Mostly trucks, family vacation mobiles, and Canadians. After an hour, I gave up, found some shade and waited.

Finally, Sharlene arrived. She was very helpful and thoughtful. She had started section hiking the AT a few years back and found out about the trail angel concept. Coincidentally, after noticing some backpackers in town, she discovered the PNT was in her backyard and desperately needed a trail angel.

I checked in to my motel, the Kootenai Valley Inn. My first reaction was Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, we have a situation. The outside of the office was a decaying mess and the office was a barren room, like a murder had occurredand they had just finished removing the blood-stained carpets and walls.

Ed, the brand new owner, quickly put me at ease. He and his brother had purchased the place as a semi-retirement activity. He was clearly busting his hump and there were some diamonds in this rough. My room was clean and the carpet had been deep cleaned. The bathroom was sparkling.

Next door was a restaurant that both Sharlene and Ed recommended. They both called it the “chicken chop.” I went there. It was “Chic-n-Chop” and while the name made no sense they had classic dinner choices. I don’t know about you, but when I’ve been eating couscous, lentils, and quinoa, I’m jumping all over the special of two pork chops, two broasted chicken pieces, a biscuit and baked potato.

In fairness, I did order a full dinner salad first.

I was asleep by 9:30.