Campsite at mile 2425 to campsite at mile 2443
Something yellow catches my eye and I slow to a stop in the middle of the trail. My eyes, now so accustomed to the natural world can immediately pick out anything unnatural. Usually this is small bits of trash accidentally left by a hiker, or occasionally forgotten gear. Today, it’s a yellow gummy bear. Stooping to pick it up I show the gummy to Starman, asking if I should eat it. This is not the first forlorn gummy bear that I’ve jokingly proposed that I eat; the previous one being found bobbing along the sandy bottom of our last water source. However, in both situations Starman has vehemently vetoed my proposed found snackage. Laughing I lob the gummy into the woods whereupon it’s vibrant yellow is lost in a sea of green. This prompts a discussion about what we are most looking forward to eating in town.
I am always amazed by how quickly the energy provided by town food fades from my system, leaving legs straining on the steep climbs of Washington. Only three days from town and already both Starman and myself have begun to fantasize about getting to town. Starman says “no more pizza, it’s been nothing but disappointing lately.” I agree, adding “and nothing that qualifies as ‘American’ food. I think I’ve had enough burgers to last a lifetime.” In this way we banter back and forth up the biggest climb of the day. Good sticky rice. Crisp vegetables. Peanut sauce. Cucumber and watermelon! BBQ. Orange chicken – Starman is ever true to his Midwestern roots.
When we arrive at the top of the pass, Cathedral Peak rises above us and down below in the valley sits an entirely new world. One that has a blustering cool breeze running through the long valley, whisking away the smoke and returning the color and detail to the earth. What a difference. What an incomparable difference to be granted the views for which this tail is known. Hiking through smoke and trees for days on end with barely a nice rocky pile to look at, it is demoralizing. There is no other word for it. The hiker phrase “I do it for the views” has never felt so accurate as I look down into the valley below our perch. In front of me stretches an vast skyline of unknown peaks, rivers, and woods. What would I see if I wandered away from this trail and into these lands. I’ll save it for another day, after the trail. I know that for once there is little urgency with which I need to explore these mountains. Washington, as it has said with some arguable validity, is the state in which I am now a resident. Being home never looked so inviting.