September 22, 2016 Mile 2159.7-2187.9 28.2 Miles 5:30 comes too early, and I reluctantly pull my body out from my warm sleeping bag into the cold damp air. When I step out of my tent to finish packing, I pause to consider what I will do about the yellow jackets, or hornets, or whatever they are that attacked us last night. There’s really not much I can do except hurry, I guess. It’s good luck that a thick fog sits on the land. The stinging insects are nestled away somewhere and don’t bother us. The morning hike is serene. We start with a steep descent through the fog. My headlamp reflects fog and my steaming breath back to me, and it’s sometimes difficult to see the trail. As the morning light begins to filter through, we’re walking along the side of a slope that falls steeply off to our right. There are some crashing sounds far off in the valley below, like trees being felled. They are followed by crushing, thrashing noises. I don’t hear an engine, but it seems like the sorts of sounds a tractor might make. We stop at Snag Creek for breakfast and then start a big climb through mossy forest. Roadside says it looks like Jurassic Park, and I chuckle. It’s such a common comparison that I hear it almost every time I go on a hike in forest like this. Many of the big trees are broken and lie across the trail. I’m struggling with energy this morning, probably a hangover from all the coffee I had yesterday. Over the top, big lookout. The fog has cleared, and it’s sunny and cool. We take a fairly long break. Another descent. Roadside falls behind, and I cross two roads and meet an older couple out for a day hike. I sink far into thoughts that go nowhere. In the early afternoon I come to an arched bridge over a wide shallow creek. There’s a thru-hiker sitting in the sun on a sandy bank. I cross and ask if I can join him. His name is Pushup. He tells me he is from Israel, and we don’t talk much beyond that. It’s nice to sit here in the sun while I set up my stove and make my lunch. Roadside is taking a long time, I think, and just at that moment I see him approaching the bridge. After a couple minutes, Pushup continues on. While I’m waiting for Roadside to finish his lunch, I strip off my shoes and socks and roll my pants to the knee. The river is cold to the point of pain when I step in, but it feels so good on my feet. I have to get out a couple times to let my calves and feet warm back up, and by the time I’m out for good, my feet feel so much better that they’re ready to hike another fifteen miles. The rest of my body is less sure about hiking, but I don’t give it a choice. I plug into my audiobook and start up another three thousand foot climb. So far Washington is nothing but a three-thousand foot walking roller coaster. The afternoon and evening pass in a blur of sluggish fatigue so bad that I hardly notice my surroundings. We find a campsite near the top of a ridge, with views west and south to Mt. Hood, which is mostly shrouded in clouds. There hasn’t been much water for a while, and I don’t have enough to make dinner, so I scrounge through my snacks and eat a couple of bars I’ve been avoiding, along with a big serving of peanut M&Ms and dried fruit. As I update my journal before bed, I’m surprised to see we’ve done 28 miles over this terrain. I’m disturbed that I noticed so little of it.
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Nick is a teacher, writer, and amateur adventurer. Archives
June 2020
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