Chasing Alpenglow

July 23-25; Mile 2624-2655 + 8 Day 35 At 10am – after two days of agonizing over smoke forecasts and trail closure maps and waiting for Highway 20 to reopen – my parents and I made the go/no-go decision for the section of trail that was open from Hart’s Pass to the Canadian border. I had planned months previously to meet them in Manning Park at the end of my journey, but now they were also going to drive me to Hart’s Pass the long way ‘round since Highway 20 remained closed for the

July 17-20; Mile 2543-2592 + 7 “When I hiked part of the PCT in 2015, everyone said the trail would always be there when I came back. People don’t say that anymore.” – Fixie, the woman I sat next to on the train ride from Portland to Seattle Day 31My friend Ann gave me a ride to the Suiattle River Trailhead late Wednesday afternoon. The air was thick and muggy, and clouds swirled above the river valley. Ann, Vivian, and I set out along the soft carpet of pine needles, listening to

July 14-16; Mile 2043-2089 Day 28I spent the morning walking through the ash and blackened trunks of the Lionshead burn scar. Five miles of recent burn lay between me and the Ollalie Lake Resort. The trail was rocky from erosion, sometimes difficult to follow, and puffs of fine ash pillowed upward with every step. Small ponds lay scattered throughout the burnt stumps, and I tried once more to imagine how the land had looked before it was ravaged in 2021.  My morning view I reached the resort by 8:30, and a

July 11-13; Mile 2001-2043 + 2.6 Day 25 My stomach was in knots as we left Bend after work to drive toward Santiam Pass. I had been monitoring snow conditions as much as possible given the few trip reports I could find on Facebook and in the FarOut app I used for navigation on trail. (mile 2014): Expect agonizingly slow, steep and dangerous snow drifts for the next 9+ miles. (mile 2017): There’s a cornice you have to punch through to get to the trail, find the path

July 4-7; Mile 1848-1909 Day 21 The car thermometer read 87 when Dov dropped me off at the road crossing along Highway 58 at 2pm. The air was hot and close, and no breeze stirred the needles of the pine trees lining the path. I was back to tackle the next Oregon section after a short three days at home spent working. The four-day weekend offered the perfect slot in my schedule for the short 60-mile stretch, but snow still clung to the slopes above, while boiling heat (112 forecast for Medford) was on

June 27-30; Mile 1715-1774 Day 17 I woke to incessant chittering in the tree above me. “What did you do to that squirrel, Stormy?” Handy called from his tent. The morning was chilly, and fog had seeped between the trees, blurring the sky and reminding me of home. Four miles lay between me and Callahan’s Lodge, the spot where Handy would begin the long hitch back to his car while I tried to find a ride into Ashland to resupply for the next 55 miles. Morning fog on the way to

June 23-26; Mile 1650-1715 Day 13 The day began with a six mile road walk into the tiny town of Seiad Valley – one of the many stops along the trail where the elevation outnumbered the population. The route paralleled the river and was quiet and empty apart from three wild turkeys that trotted quickly away whenever I got within 50 yards. The first stop in town was the Cafe: Handy and I tucked into a delicious breakfast while chatting with a few locals. I ordered

June 19-22; Mile 1600-1650 Day 9 Kevin, Carie, and I enjoyed a relaxed breakfast at Trinity Lake before packing up and driving 90 minutes along narrow, winding roads to the little town of Etna. We arrived in the middle of a power outage, but thankfully the distillery was still serving pizzas from their oven. We had a pleasant meal, a quick stop at the local museum to hear stories from the 93-year old docent, and then I stopped at the library to charge some electronics and connect to the wifi. Kevin and Carie returned

June 15-18; Mile 1277-1332 Day 5 The day started out with wide-open views and chilly morning air. But then it was a long slog dropping almost 5000’ down down down to Belden. Parts of the trail were overgrown, and with three miles still to go, the undergrowth started to include poison oak in the mix. I did my best to dodge the clusters of three, but as soon as I reached Belden I washed off my legs with soap and water in the restaurant bathroom. Tomorrow I’d face the same slope – but instead