A Rocky Finish to Our Trekking: Ending the Washington PCT

August 5, 2019

Our time trekking in Washington had been eventful, with mice and mosquito encounters, views of Mount Adams and Mount Rainier, and incredible lake, river, and forest scenery. In the last two weeks and 246 miles of hiking, we gained over 45,000 feet and lost over 43,000 feet in elevation. While my heel had been hurting since we left the Columbia River and Darren had occasional calf issues, we both felt rested after spending a day and a half in Seattle visiting our daughter Lauren and her husband. 

Hiking Up to the Kendall Katwalk and Our Campsite

After Lauren drove us back to Snoqualmie Pass at midday on a Sunday, we began climbing into the North Cascade Mountains. Even with all the elevation gain and loss we had experienced thus far, we were now entering the most difficult sections of the Washington PCT.

The next 71 miles to Stevens Pass had 19,000 feet of elevation gain and 18,000 feet of elevation loss, as the trail alternately climbed over mountain passes and descended to water sources. We allotted two half days and three full days of hiking to complete the distance. As extra motivation for staying on schedule, we booked a hotel in the town of Skykomish on Thursday night.

The elevation gain began immediately, as we climbed up 3,000 feet in the first seven miles of forest trekking. The PCT entered the Alpine Lakes Wilderness shortly after leaving Snoqualmie, and we would trek through it for almost the entire section. The path was popular with trail runners and hikers, and we passed many people coming down as we hiked up.

The main day hiking attraction is the Kendall Katwalk, located about six miles from the trailhead. The katwalk is a 140-meter path that is blasted out of the rock, with a large drop-off on one side. After our experience with the narrow trail in the Goat Rocks Wilderness the week before, we found it easy to walk across the wide path. 

We left most of the day hikers behind after completing the katwalk. The trail passed a series of lakes and we began to climb again. Hiking on a ridge, we had a vista of mountains ahead of us and views of other lakes below us.

As we passed the lakes, the mosquitoes also returned in large numbers. Our plan was to camp near the top of a ridge, using a tarn as our water source. We reasoned that the mosquitoes wouldn’t be as bad there. The site we found for the night, after completing 10.8 miles, was beautiful, with a view of Mount Rainier peeking out of the clouds. Unfortunately, the mosquitoes were still bad, so we wore our head nets while setting up camp and making dinner. 

A Rocky Climb to an Unnamed Pass

The next day’s hiking began with a climb to an unnamed pass. We knew we would experience many ascents and descents as we traversed the North Cascade Mountains, but the trail conditions surprised us. As we climbed, the path went through a very rocky section that lasted for about two miles. It required us to navigate around several narrow corners high up on a ridge and to pick our way gingerly across some large rocks. We slowed to a pace of about 1.5 miles an hour.  

As we hiked we could see numerous marmots scurrying in and out of the rocks.

The mountain scenery ahead was beautiful, and I tried to focus on the view as my heel flared up again on the rocky terrain. Darren also felt some pain in his calf. Finally, we reached the top and began descending a series of switchbacks.

We were happy to be heading down but were concerned about the stretch of trail we had just completed. Was the rocky terrain indicative of the rest of the section and beyond in the North Cascades? If so, we weren’t sure how my sore heel and Darren’s nagging calf injury would hold up.

A short time later we happened upon two older guys who were hiking the 71-mile section in the same direction. They were also concerned about the trail we had just finished. Soon after we all met a PCT southbound hiker coming the other way. He told us that the rest of the section was not as bad, so we felt better about continuing on our way.

Marveling at Lake and Stream Scenery and a Favorite Campsite

The views just kept getting better as we continued north. It was another crystal clear day, and we marveled at the lakes and streams as we hiked.

Near the bottom of our descent was Lemah Creek. A bridge had washed out there several years ago, making it a challenging crossing. A log had been placed downstream to assist hikers, but my trail crowdsourced app stated that it was slippery and people had fallen off of it. So we opted to ford across. Fortunately, the creek was just below knee-level deep and the current wasn’t too swift. We both made it quickly across.

Based on our desire to camp in areas with minimal mosquitoes, we ended up making late afternoon climbs on most days. The weather was warm and we had an over 2,000-foot ascent before arriving at our campsite that night. The tough climb was worth the effort. We found a wonderful place to pitch our tent a short distance from a small lake, with an incredible view of the mountains behind us. And we were happy that the mosquitoes were much less prevalent than the previous night.

As we cooked dinner, we got talking to a man who was also hiking the section with his teenage son. We continued to see them, as well as the two guys we met earlier in the day, as we trekked towards Stevens Pass.

The Ups and Downs of Continuing through the Alpine Lakes Wilderness

Our long-standing hiking routine has us starting each morning between 7:00 am and 7:30 am, taking rest breaks every two hours, and eating lunch at roughly the halfway point of our planned distance. After almost 5,000 feet of both gain and loss from our previous day’s 16.2-mile distance, we looked forward to an 18-mile stage with less elevation change. We found an excellent spot for our morning break, overlooking Waptus Lake far below us.

Although we had passed the peak of the wildflower bloom, we encountered many butterflies along the trail. Darren had fun photographing them as they flew among the flowers.

Our afternoon break that day was near Deep Lake, a popular camping spot. Other hikers had told us that some of the worst mosquitoes in the section were around the lake, so we planned to continue further before camping. And their assessment was correct: as we crossed a creek adjacent to the lake, we literally walked through a cloud of mosquitoes right above the water.

Another late afternoon climb took us up about 1,000 feet to a small campsite just over a saddle. Even though it wasn’t near any water, we encountered quite a few mosquitoes, so we quickly set up camp and ate dinner before retiring for the night.

The Rocks take a Total on Our Legs and Feet

Awaiting us the next morning was the final tricky water crossing of the section. As we descended down to the stream, I realized just how much my heel was hurting. By the end of most hiking days, my heel was usually in pain but had always recovered by the next morning. That was no longer the case with the increased elevation gain and loss of the section. I resorted to carefully watching my foot placement as I hiked, so I wouldn’t aggravate my heel further by stepping directly on any sharp rocks.

When we reached the stream, we needed to cross it in three sections. The way was clearly marked by other hikers with rock cairns. It was no problem following the strategically placed rocks and logs across the water, and we both made it to the other side with dry feet.

Later in the day, we came to the prettiest lake in the section – Deception Lake. The sun shining on the water made it look emerald in color. We stopped and took several pictures but didn’t linger too long, as the mosquitoes were out in force.

Our afternoon climb that day was over Piper Pass (5,933 feet). Fortunately, much of the ascent was in the shade. The mountain views as we neared the pass were some of the best we had seen.

At the top, we were only about 16 miles from Stevens Pass and the highway. Our plan was to camp about 10 miles from the road, making it only a half day’s walk to the end of the section and our hotel at Skykomish. As we started down the pass, our progress slowed as we encountered another rocky section of trail. My heel, already hurting, became excruciatingly painful with every step. To make matters worse, Darren twisted his ankle while maneuvering around some of the larger rocks.  

Discouraged, we began looking for a water source and a potential place to camp. We found a creek a short time later and filtered enough water to get us through the night. We evaluated several campsite options, and not agreeing on any of them, continued walking.

I consulted my app and paper map. It looked like it was going to be another two miles before we would find a suitable spot, so we sped up as it was already after 6:00 pm. Just a few minutes later, we turned a corner and saw a campsite just off the trail and next to a small meadow. We decided it would do and began to set up camp. The numerous mosquitoes made us quickly cook dinner before retiring into the tent for the evening.   

That night, I had trouble sleeping because of my heel pain. Even though we had trekked through a few rocky trail sections over the past few days, I chalked up my increased pain to the path’s almost continual elevation change. When we woke up the next morning, Darren’s ankle was better, but my heel pain was worse. 

Arriving in Stevens Pass with a Big Decision to Make

You can’t be afraid to fail, but unless you fail, you haven’t pushed hard enough.”

Dean Karnazes

We had 9.5 miles to go to Stevens Pass, with an elevation gain of about 1,900 feet and a loss of 3,000 feet. Not difficult, given what we had already done, but it was actually one of my hardest days on the trail. Every step up and down really hurt. So as we hiked we began to have some conversations about the future.

At this point, we had trekked a little over 300 miles, with about 200 miles left to go. The next PCT section, totaling 107 miles, was considered to be the most difficult in Washington. We had seven full days allocated for the stretch, meaning it would be the heaviest food carry of our entire trek. Not only would our backpacks be at their highest weight, but we would have 26,000 feet of elevation gain and 29,000 feet of trail loss to navigate. What also made us concerned was that there were very few places to leave the path if I couldn’t continue.

It was obvious that my heel was getting worse and not better. In fact, it was already affecting our speed, which could also be an issue in the next remote section, as we didn’t want to run out of food.

Our conversation turned to whether a hiking break would help. We agreed that it was probably going to be several weeks before my injury would fully heal. And hiking on a trail with continual elevation change after that could potentially re-injure it. So that meant that if we stopped we would not only cut Washington short but also forgo the 300 miles of trekking in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains that we had planned at the end of August.

I wanted to think that I could just keep hiking through the pain. We were both in great shape, completing our climbs with no issues, so it was discouraging not to take advantage of our fitness.

With a difficult decision to make, we turned to using a mental model we call “Judge and Jury.” We imagine arguing the pros and cons of a safety decision in front of our close family and friends. If we continued trekking in this case, and I got seriously hurt, would people have sympathy for us, thinking we had done everything we could to mitigate our risk? Or would there be second-guessing our decision, as we should have shown better judgment?

It then became crystal clear to us that we should end our hike. The trail would be there in the future. And there was no reason to put ourselves unnecessarily in harm’s way.

We arrived at Stevens Pass at about noon. After we collected our resupply box, we sat on a picnic table, looking up at the mountains we had just descended. It was an emotional time for both of us.

Luckily we had our hotel room waiting, so we finally got up and walked to the highway. There, we quickly hitched a ride 15 miles west to the small town of Skykomish. Once we arrived, we made reservations to take a bus back to Seattle the next day.

It was great to see our daughters Kristen and Lauren in Seattle and spend the weekend with them.

At the same time, we felt defeated and depressed. Even though we had completed three multiple-day treks in California, Arizona, and Washington, totaling over 500 miles, it was all too easy to focus on what we didn’t accomplish.

A new set of questions entered our minds: it was only early August and we weren’t crazy about going home to 110 F (and higher) temperatures in Palm Desert. So we decided to take the opportunity to travel somewhere else to recharge and relax. We spent several hours over the weekend looking at options and decided to go to Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada.

Reservations in hand, we traveled on a Monday morning ferry from downtown Seattle to downtown Victoria. Our plan was to pick up a car and explore the island for a week before returning to Victoria for a few days. The hope was the time off my feet would start the healing process.

Even though our trekking this year did not end the way we had planned, we are so grateful for every mile that we hiked, all the people that we met, and the amazing scenery that we saw. And thanks to all of you who followed our travels and encouraged us along the way!