Category: Pacific Northwest Trail

PNT Day 19 – 400 Blow-downs

Mile 255 to mile 9.5 on the Long Canyon Creek alternate

I look up and smile as Keith snaps a picture of me, my hands and knees planted in the dirt as I crawl beneath one of many blown down trees that obscure the trail. Actually, according to one PNT hiker there are more than 400 blow-downs on the Long Canyon Creek alternate that we will have to navigate around, over, under, or through. Killed by a forest fire and toppled by severe weather the trees that have fallen in the proceeding years haven’t yet been cleared by trail crews on our somewhat obscure little trail.

One may be forgiven for asking why a person would choose to follow a hiking trail turned game of jungle gym twister. A fair question indeed. And the answer my dear reader is that this is in fact the lesser of two evils, by which we are avoiding a 6,000 foot BLANK mile waterless climb from the highway outside Bonners Ferry. So as Keith takes my photo I laugh to myself and remind myself that I choose to be here, and that if I’m being honest, I’m still having a pretty good time.

PNT Day 20 – Birthday

Mile 9.5 on the Long Canyon Creek alternate to mile 277.1

A dirty bundle emerges from Bookworm’s backpack; tobacco, a gift from Ronda, the proud Black Foot woman who gave the three of us a ride to the Eastern terminus. A blessing, enough for each of us to bestow luck on our journey down the trail. I’m delighted that bookworm has been carrying it until now. We each pour a little in our hands then, starting facing east, we each give a yell then toss a pinch of the tobacco in each of the cardinal directions. It feels fun and special to be celebrating our trip this way on this day. Afterwards, we share the birthday brownies my mother sent me. I feel a heartswell of adoration for the wonderful people in my life and an enormous sense of wonder to be celebrating my 37th birthday how I got to today.

PNT Day 21 – Bushwhack

Mile 277.1 to mile 285.2

The bushwhack is notorious. Five miles down a river drainage with no official trail, through brush, bushes, and blow-downs. This median quagmire is positioned solely at our feet. Between the trail we are on now and a road that will take us into Coolin, ID is a literal mystery on our map and just after leaving camp we dive right in.

First we shoot the ridge, steeply up and scrambling hand over hand through bands of granite rock and grassy brush. From this new vantage point I can see down to the glimmering Ball Lake below as well as out to the east where we came from and to the west with it’s looming fire and uncertainty. The trail stops here and we plunge off the side of the mountain into head-high bushes spotted through with evergreens both standing and fallen. Starman is out in front, leading this parade straight into a wall of greenest green. And lead he does. Between following the guide on Far Out and his general sense of route-finding we are able to follow game or use trails about half the time. Still, it takes us nearly seven hours to go six miles.

PNT Day 22 – Coolin’ in Coolin

Mile 259.9 to mile 5.8 on the Jackson Creek alternate

I wake early and tired thanks to an all night wind storm and quickly begin to pack away my things. Starman and I are trying to get on the trail faster each morning and this morning in particular we have lots to do. We hitched into the micro-town of Coolin, ID yesterday with plans to eat, resupply, and get back on the trail but only managed to accomplish one of those things, leaving resupply shopping and hitching back to the trail for today. Luckily Coolin’s size makes it extremely walkable and by 9am we’re fed, our food bags are once again full, and we’re standing on the side of the road with our thumbs out being passed by car after car. “This town feels like a trap,” I say to Starman who sleepily agrees.

Finally after three hours and two separate rides we make it the 19 miles back to the trail and start walking just after noon. We have 15 miles and 1,500 feet of elevation gain before camp but if I could curl up in my sleeping bag right now I would.

The first part of the afternoon finds the trail meandering up and around the shores of Priest Lake. Dappled sunlight slices through the canopy to dance across the pine needle strewn floor while those same branches provide ample shade to keep us cool. We walk past innumerable campsites and my tired body envies each and every set up tent. However, if we want to make it to camp before dark it’s imperative that we keep moving. At one point during the afternoon I try and calorically boost my energy and mood only to be left feeling heavy and, if possible, even more sluggish.

Early evening finds us eating dinner alongside a forest road that we’ll follow for four of the final five miles to camp. After dinner we push, my legs are finally starting to feel stronger and more capable and I’m able to match Starman’s pace as he streams along the road. The road winds and narrows, necking down until we are once again pushing our way through an overgrown trail and only then, beside a small and burbling creek do we stop and set up camp. Finally, after writing this post, I allow my tired spine to unravel atop my crinkly pad and I sleep.

Day 5 – Sunset

Mile 0 to mile 7.6 on the Tuchuck alt (+ 8 miles of road walking on the hitch out of Polebridge

The climb was a brutal 3,000 ft of gain in three miles and began with a soaking bushwhack through head-high vegetation. But the end of the day was spent watching the sunset dance across stormclouds.

PNT Day 6 – No Way Out

Mile 7.6 to mile 1.2 on the Tuchuck alternate

I’ve been moving slowly all day, so when Bookworm mentions an alt that runs down valley instead of climbing a ridge, I’m all in.

The only problem is that the trail may not be there at all, erased by time, erosion, and fire. Or, the trail may be only a winter snowmobile track and thus only visible in the winter. We won’t know until we drop off the ridge. But what I do know is that it’s all downhill and ends in a dirt road walk instead of a half mile horrific  bushwhack.

Starman leads the way off the ridge at 4:30pm.

What follows is 3.5 hours of our own horrific bushwhack. The trail we are looking for never materializes and instead as we work our way down hill to a road we hope is there we run into dozens upon dozens of downed trees from both a fire and an avalanche. Progress is slow going and painful as my feet slide across loose rocks and I bang my shin more times than I can count. As we descend the trees and the undergrowth thicken, shading the ground into near darkness. At one point the vegetation is so overgrown that we resort to walking through a creek as the easiest means of passage.

At several points I am close to tears and I think longingly of the Centennial Trail and how I had been able to simply call my parents to pick us up when my blisters got too bad. But there is no out of this situation but through and so we continue painfully on. Pushing over and through trees which tear at my skin and clothes. I remind myself of the words inked on my skin “it’s a privilege to choose one’s method of suffering.” I choose to be out here doing these hard things because they fill me with a sense of pride and strength that I don’t find elsewhere in my life. And in this I find a way to fight down the tears and push forward until finally, finally we break out onto an old road, overgrown and difficult to navigate but mercifully easier than forging our way through the forest. The road also signifies progress and only half a mile to a real dirt road where we will be able to walk in a straight line and that won’t be filled with trees. Eventually we make it to the dirt road that will lead us into camp. Exhausted, bloodied, and ready for dinner.

Day 7 – Only Eight

Mile 1.2 on the Tuchuck alternate to mile 104.5

The PNT is often faint, usually overgrown, and almost always climbing. Which is exactly the situation I find myself in now. Each step forward, each slap or scratch of a plant makes my bloodied shins scream in protest. After a week of walking through overgrown trail and dense underbrush my legs have been reduced to a welt of scratches and mosquito bites. And this morning I am having to force myself through, over, and across any number of bushes and felled trees. The fatigue in my legs after yesterday’s ordeal is intense and I find myself counting my steps to 100 before allowing myself a short break in the shade. We’ve decided to scale our mileage back today to 8.7 miles and 2,700 feet of gain and save some mileage for the day we hit Eureka, MT and can look forward to some flat mileage for once. Still, the going is slow and more than once I think to myself that if I felt like this on a day hike I would just go home. But that’s not an option today, there is no car waiting for me or even a road I could successfully hitch from for miles in any direction. My best, and truly only option is to finish the remainder of the 8.7 miles with a climb to a lookout where we can spend the night and not even have to set up our tents. Glorious.

PNT Day 8 – Tired

Mile 104.5 to mile 125.2

Today was another hard one with 2,700 feet of elevation gain and 21 miles. But even though I’m feeling tired and struggling on the climbs I decided to opt with the others and push on for our first 20 of the trip so that we can be in town early tomorrow and really enjoy our first town stop of the trip and our first zero. Something that I have been needing.

PNT Day 9 – Town Miles

Mile 125.2 to mile 134.1

The road pitches down and I roll into motion on the mild grade. We’re only ten easy miles from town this morning and we’re on the trail early, a collective eager for the comfort and food that comes with a town day. At first the miles slide by, three, five, six, then slowing as civilization grows up around us and the walking becomes less pleasant. Forest roads giving way to paved to neighborhood to the narrow shoulder of highway 93 where we walk duck-like in a dirty, stinking line. Cars rush by while overhead the sun is high even this early in the morning and the scratches on my legs burn with the heat radiating back from the asphalt.

Today will be for doing chores; laundry, resupply shopping, cleaning, and getting ready for the next section. Tomorrow I plan on doing so little of anything it may not be worth writing about. Stay tuned.

PNT Day 10 – Eureka

Zero – no miles hiked

Every surface in our hotel room is covered; in drying clothes, in food, in towels, in myriad little items that come from the depths of three hikers backpacks. Mercifully, the chundering AC unit keeps the smell at bay. The blinds are drawn against the midday sun and I luxuriate in the cool while snacking on chilled grapes. Tomorrow looms large in both mileage and elevation gain and I hope that if I hold very still my body will heal enough for me to manage it.

PNT Day 1 – An Attempt

Mile 0 to mile 19

“There are bears in your campground” says the ranger.

“We’ll have to move you.”

And move us she does, disregarding our original permit and assigning us a new one 19 miles and 3,100 feet of gain away. It seems far, it seems too far for me. But who can argue with bears and so we take our new permit and hike out.

The first part of the day is easy walking as we bump and bob our way down into a verdant valley beneath soaring craggy peaks. Starman leads our little possy and with Bookworm between us I am left to bring up the rear and ponder my various anxieties. The sudden departure from the carefully planned mileage of our first permit has upset me more than I care to admit and it has my brain tumbling.

What if I’m too slow. What if I get injured. What about my knee or my back. What if I can’t keep up. What if I can’t do this.

As I hike I notice every tweak and tightness, wondering if they’ll be the undoing of this nacient hike. To me, every adventure of this nature is always an attempt, never a guarantee. So many things both large and small could go wrong and take me off the trail and today they are all lining up to make themselves known. The fore of my mind cluttered with what ifs and maybies.

PNT Day 2 – Easy

Mile 19 to mile 26.5

We wake late and are still in camp early. The abbreviated day courtesy of our alerted permit, though one I do not begrudge. Though I feel surprisingly good after my longest day of the season yesterday.

The trail drops from Stony Indian Lake into a brush and bramble paradise. More often than not the trail is so overgrown it’s impossible to see your own feet, and making forward progress is akin to wading into hip deep water. Every couple miles the verdant plant life breaks apart and we are gifted 200 meters or so of clear trail, rejoicing in the sudden ease of moment.

At three we reach Goat Haunt Camp and find Bookworm there to greet us. I spend the afternoon variously snacking and watching the thunderstorms roll pell-mell across the lake. Mosquitos signal that evening is come and the three of us make our way to the designated campsite for the night.

PNT Day 3 – Bullshit

Mile 26.5 to mile 42

The descent from Brown Pass to Bowman Lake is, as I have heard it told, bullshit. And all afternoon I wait for that to be true. I wait for the impenetrable wall of shoulder-high brush and vegetation to arrive, only it never comes. The trail is overgrown, surely, but never to the severity that we have been warned about. And in general this makes me feel good about myself, as well as sorry that the hiker who warned us about this section was having such a hard time. Because as I hike through intermittent rain and sun I realize how dramatically our internal lives shape the experience we have on trail. Today, for me, is a good one and as such the trail feels generous and kind.

PNT Day 4 – Polebridge

Mile 42 to mile 49

I wake early just in time for the rain to start and then proceed to roll back over to blissful sleep until I hear Bookworm packing away their tent and rolling out. They are perpetually faster than us, both on trail and when it comes to getting ready and I wonder vaguely how much longer they’ll tolerate our casual pace. But today there is no reason to hurry as we only have a seven mile day to Bowman Lake before we hitch into Polebridge—the location of our first resupply and town stop. Though, in this case town is being rather generous as Polebridge consists of nothing more than a mercantile, a saloon, and a hiker hostel. Still, it’s where we’ll pick up our first box and get the first food we haven’t had to carry in four days.

The walking this morning is easy as we gain and lose less than 500 feet winding our way around a startlingly blue lake. The bushes here are expectantly overgrown and despite relatively little rain falling in the night, I am soaked within minutes as I follow the trail into a wall of green only to emerge three hours later in a lakeside parking lot filled with tourists frolicking in the waters.