Chasing Alpenglow

August 20-21; Mile 2224-2258 Day 138 The forest was chilly in the morning as I hiked the few miles to the road into Trout Lake. Clouds drifted between the trees, and a hush hung over the mountains. As I sat eating my breakfast, a squirrel sent pinecones crashing down to the forest floor from a branch far above, and the racket shattered the pressing silence. A line of hikers stood waiting for the “shuttle” into town, and I passed the time chatting with Oyster and Emperor. The latter had spent time

August 16-19; Mile 2148-2224 Day 134 Dov and I drove back to the Bridge of the Gods in the late morning. After dragging my feet, I finally set off up the trail into the trees. The air was thick and hot – with temperatures forecasted to reach 100 degrees the next two days – and my shirt was drenched in minutes. Without a breeze to lift the moisture, it stayed wet the rest of the day, and I felt like I was hiking through an aquatic center. The

August 13-15; Mile 2128-2148 Day 131 I left camp in my puffy after a cold night in my borrowed quilt. I was looking forward to carrying my sleeping bag with me through Washington. The trail led steeply down through the remains of the Eagle Creek fire from 2017. Downed, blackened trees littered the trail, but fireweed grew stubbornly amid the destruction. I had chosen to take the alternate route down past Eagle Creek and the waterfalls scattered throughout the gorge. At Tunnel Falls I

August 11-12; Mile 2088-2128 Day 129 In northern Oregon, the PCT passes next to the iconic Timberline Lodge below Mt Hood. Thruhikers look forward to the stop for months – not for the views, the architectural wonder, or the $500/night rooms. What we seek is the buffet. My camp spot had set me back too far to reach the Lodge for breakfast, and as I set out from camp I considered skipping the side trip entirely. The trail led up steep, sandy climbs with views toward the glacial outflow streams flowing

August 9-10; Mile 1962-2001, 2087-2089 Day 127 Rain lashed the outside of my tent as I lay in my quilt, delaying the moment I’d have to leave my dry shelter. I packed up as quickly as possible, but everything was soaked. After an hour or so the clouds lifted and sunshine poured over the trail. I paused to eat breakfast and dry out my gear. Yet as I hiked onward, clouds rolled in and thunder shook the forest, echoing between the tall volcanos surrounding me. I passed a woman out for

August 6-8; Mile 1839-1847, 1908-1962 Day 124 The day dawned cold and clear, and I shivered in the quilt I was borrowing from Dov. There were only eight miles to go until the road where I’d meet Dana at 11, and so I rolled over and waited for the sun to climb a little higher before dragging myself out onto the trail. The path led through the pumice desert, where the ground was sand and grit, and where water sources were 20 miles apart. Two hikers – Shepherd and Viking

August 3-5; Mile 1777-1839 Day 121 As I hiked through the thick forest the next morning, Mt McLoughlin towered silently above, hidden from view. When I passed the turn-off toward its summit, I decided to bypass that particular side trip. I spent the morning leapfrogging with two other female hikers, but otherwise the forest was quiet and empty. An hour before lunch I came across a lonesome trekking pole. Guessing that one of the gals had dropped it, I added it to my pack and hiked on. When I reached

July 31 – August 2; Mile 1773-1777 Smoke lay thick across the horizon when I woke up the next morning. Hours passed as I read about the fires, the evacuations, and the plans people were making to salvage their hikes. With a new 60-mile stretch of trail closing north of Crater Lake due to the Windigo fire, it seemed like the safest course of action was to skip ahead to Washington. I’d even read that some hikers were jumping westward to the coast in order to hike the Oregon Coastal Trail before coming back onto the PCT

Day 117: Evacuation July 30; Mile 1601-1607-1599 I woke to the smell of smoke. As I began walking in the pre-dawn gloom, I could see the same plume from yesterday afternoon, except now it looked like there were two columns of smoke drifting into the sky. A layer of haze lay below, and as the sun crested the ridge it was the color of a pomegranate. I checked my map, noting that the trail headed northwest, while the fires were due north. With any luck I’d be