Campsite at mile 2377 to Snoqualmie Pass (mile 2393)
When I wake it is to find a thin layer of condensation on my sleeping bag and trees shrouded in mist. Not smoke by golly, but genuine mist. This is the Washington I love, all brooding forests draped in cool fog and soft light. This sudden change in weather reminds me that summer is almost over, that this hike is almost over. And surprisingly, I don’t feel sad about that. Not in the way I did in Oregon, when the thought of the northern terminus clenched my chest tight with emotion and sparked tears in my eyes. With the time and miles of Washington I have begun the slow process of moving beyond this hike, a process I’m not sure will ever fully end. But for now I can begin to reflect on everything I have done this year, on everything Starman and I have done together over the course of all these months and miles we’ve spent working in tandem towards this goal. I feel not just content, but proud of what we’ve done. And even though the adventure is not over yet I feel at ease with our journey, imperfections and all.
We roll 16 miles to Snoqualmie Pass, stopping along the banks of a lake where there is miraculously service and poking at our phones for an hour. Letting the world beyond the trail intrude for a little while as Starman coordinates rides and hotels for a bachelor party he’s attending this weekend. Only it doesn’t feel like an intrusion anymore, not really. In the way that I’ve stopped referring to life away from the trail as the real world, as though the life of cars and jobs is more valid, more real than this simplified life outdoors. I know that the coming transition from wandering hiker to driven worker will be eased by my continued desire to play outside. That the end of the trail will leave room for new adventures to begin, and for that I am giddy with excitement.
Well, as this show winds itself down please know that I will no doubt go through withdrawals for several months.. Your adventure has become a part of our daily lives and it has been such a pleasure to follow you on the trail. You are a wonderful writer and made every day on the trail so real and vivid for us. Thank you for sharing this wonderful experience, the insight into you as a talented, emotional and loving person. As my grandson would say, “you are the best.”
Great blog Sporty B! Miss you guys and hope the end of your hike and your transition back into society is relatively painless. Lots of love to you both from Fire Country and I (she’s still on trail, by the way).