Day 148-151: Section J

August 30 – September 2; Mile 2394-2465

Day 148

For almost five months I had been “walking home” toward Snoqualmie Pass and the interstate that led due west to Seattle; now as I stepped back onto trail, each step took me further away once again. Section J covered the part of the trail between Snoqualmie and Stevens Pass – at only 70ish miles, it was a popular backpacking trip for people wanting to complete an entire section of the PCT with minimal endpoint logistics. My friends and I had hiked this section southbound in 2020, and in many ways it had cemented my desire to hike the entire trail. I’d been looking forward to revisiting it and the sweeping views and sparkling lakes ever since leaving Campo.

But as I began the steady climb after 11am, my excitement withered beneath my heavy pack and the relentless sun. The temperature rose into the 90s as I sweated my way through the familiar terrain. I spotted four day hikers headed downhill and called out happily when they got closer; one of them was wearing a hat from the Conditioning Hiking Series class that I led hikes for, and I stopped to chat with the group, grateful for a chance to stop climbing.

As I approached the Kendall Katwalk – a narrow walkway blasted from the sheer granite cliffs – I tried to time my music so that the swell of the orchestra in “1812 Overture” matched the denouement of the long climb. A grin slipped back onto my face as the peaks to the north were revealed, and I rested in a scrap of shade to soak in the beautiful scenery.

After a short break I continued on to Ridge and Gravel lakes, where I stopped to swim in the former. It was getting late and I had several miles until camp, so I filled up my water for the long, dry stretch and hiked on. The trail led steeply up and down as it wound its way along the rim of a massive basin. I picked my way across several talus slopes, including the “dreaded Chikamin traverse.” Thankfully no rocks fell during that more exposed stretch.

The sun was sinking low in the sky as I hurried down toward my planned camp spot. I was almost out of water after the brutally hot traverses, and I needed to reach the small pond ahead to fill up. Darkness descended as I stumbled my way downhill, turning on my phone’s flashlight instead of stopping to pull out my headlamp. I finally found the pond in the pitch-black; as I hauled my water bag back to the trail, I wondered how I was going to find a camp spot in the dark. Thankfully there was a footpath heading into the trees at the junction, and inside their cover was a wide, flat area for camping. I made dinner by headlamp and set up my tent, exhausted from the hard day. I was beginning to see why one thru-hiker I’d spoken to on a hike a few years ago had described Washington as “the cutest, cuddliest dog with the biggest, sharpest teeth.”

Day 149

The next morning I woke up to a pile of mouse droppings on my food bag; thankfully the chew-resistant fabric had stopped the critters from getting inside. It was already warm as I began climbing, but soon I was descending to Lemah Creek. The bridge was out, and instead of balancing along a log downstream, I gladly waded into the cool waters.

Once safely across, I dropped my pack and bent over to wash some of the dirt from my legs. There was a plop, and in the second it took my tired brain to realize, it was too late: my sunglasses had been whisked downstream by the current. I stood perplexed. There were 50 miles between me and Stevens Pass, and I remembered them being full of talus slopes – not to mention the burn section I’d hike through today. Not a good spot to be stuck without sunglasses.

As I began the climb to Escondido Ridge, I turned my sun hat backwards and used the mesh bug netting as a kind of veil. It helped block some of the sunlight, but the edges of my vision were blurred by the moving fabric, and I stumbled and tripped my way up through the burned stretch of hillside. I was passed by Swell; we commiserated over our missing sunglasses: mine lost to the creek, hers broken the day before. She continued upward, saying that she’d see me at the little swimming spot ahead.

I had a nice swim in the first pond before making lunch in a patch of shade. The place was deserted, and I figured that Swell must have continued on to the next lake. When I hiked past, I stopped to chat with her and Jackrabbit. Tentatively, I asked if she still had the broken pieces from her sunglasses; by now I was a little desperate, and I figured that I could find a way to make something usable. In fact, she had taped them back together, and gladly let me have the pair since she barely used them! I slipped them on, and my eyes felt sweet relief from the glare of the cloudless sky.

The descent from the ridge was swathed in shade, and my spirits began to rise as I hiked downward. Though my knees ached from all the rocks and my clothes were sticky with sweat, things were looking up.

Day 150

The trail started climbing gently through vine maple, salmon berry bushes, and other lush greenery. I was glad to be in the shade; by midday this stretch would be as steamy as a jungle. The climb began in earnest on the way past Deep Lake, and the views opened up.

I stopped to eat lunch beneath the towering spires of Cathedral Rock, while across the valley Mt Daniel stood tall above Deep Lake. Stubborn fields of white clung to the flanks of its highest peaks, blinding in the noon sun. The slopes above the trail were green and red, dotted with white granite rocks. The blueberry bushes were turning color; fall was inching its way into the mountains. 

On the descent I passed two men with a group of boys; one of the kids asked if it was “treacherous all the way.” I looked at the trail: gentle dirt tread with the occasional rocks at a steady incline. “What do you mean?” 

“Is it this steep the rest of the way?” 

The next kid asked how many more minutes – not miles – to reach the top. Amused by his optimism, I told him I’d left the top about an hour ago.

A few miles later I reached the cascading stream with its difficult ford. It was certainly more involved to cross than two years ago, but that may have been because it was almost 4pm. Either way, I found a series of logs and rock hops to pass the raging current and make my way carefully down the canyon to the other side. 

The trail began to climb again toward Deception Pass, where I paused for a snack. I’d come here several times before, and I was enjoying the familiar terrain. The trail was flat for a while before climbing the final push up to Deception Lakes and my planned camp spot. As I dropped my pack and began setting up my tent, I recognized one of the nearby campers: she and I had worked together as TAs in college! She and her partner were 5 days into their Section J trip, and we chatted about backpacking for a bit before I wandered off to swim in the lake.

As I ate dinner, I talked to the other camper there – Annalisa – about her career change into firefighting. I was glad that I’d stopped early instead of trying to push on over Piper Pass that evening. I’d have a longer day tomorrow on my way into town, but as the nearby ridge turned pink with alpenglow, I reflected that this was the perfect ending to my 150th day on trail.

Day 151

I packed up and hiked out as the other campers were just getting up. The climb up to Piper Pass was still in shade, and when I finally reached the top I got my first view of Glacier Peak. Thick smoke clung to its base, obscuring the other mountains and filling me with unease. I’d be hiking through that in a few days.

The trail led past a series of sparkling lakes: Surprise, Hope, Trap, and Mig. The water looked tantalizingly cool in the hot, thick air, but I was determined to reach Stevens Pass before dinner.

At the top of the ski slope 2 miles from the trailhead, I ran into Fun Fact! We hiked down together through slopes of bright red, switchbacking past the chairlifts and down toward the lodge. Another hiker passed us on the way down, pausing briefly to tell us that the northern terminus had just been closed due to fires.

I reached the road and sat down, numb, too tired to process what I was reading on the PCTA site.

Dov picked me up and drove us – plus three other hikers – to Leavenworth. Mostly I just wanted to shower, and then I would figure out what came next.