Washington felt different than every other section: disjointed, uncertain, and with the end looming high.
The northern terminus of the trail (the end at the border with Canada) had been closed since July for the Ptarmigan Wildfire. Additionally, other portions of the trail leading up to the border were also closed for separate wildfires. PCT hikers before me had developed alternative routes away from the PCT to reach Canada. I entered Washington not knowing the details of these routes but planning to figure it out when I got there. I had grown accustomed to just figuring things out as they came. Plans can be so fluid that planning too far is difficult or pointless, as was confirmed for me later in Washington…
I entered Washington with a Huge group. My Minnesota friends Matt and Tom had left me in Cascade Locks on the Oregon/Washington border on a Sunday evening, and it had been my intention to get back on trail that night as Spoons had done in the afternoon. However, I was getting better and better at being vortexed, or being drawn into a town to stay longer than intended. Once I stayed the night, I figured I might as well wait to sync up with Extra leaving town. I stayed until noon and caught his group at the Bridge of the Gods, the entry to Washington. I was overwhelmed by the size of the group – 14? Many members were familiar but some were new. I joined the outside of the group, seeing parts of the group all the way to Canada.
As in NorCal and Oregon, I met new friends.
Portrait had already finished his trek to Canada but had decided to repeat Washington for a victory lap to hike with his friend Picasso. I enjoyed talking with him while hiking, giving my life story to his mock podcast with commentary and imagining a graphic novel of my hike. Portrait was a very loyal companion. He gave me the extra nudge and confidence to start writing a book on my PCT journey. Despite hiking with him for a relatively short period, I felt like we connected and got to know each other well.
Flamingo was a 2026 PCT celebrity, probably the most well-known hiker of our year. I had first heard about “the Only Fans girl” about a week into my hike and heard rumors about her helicopter rescue off Mt. Whitney and other tidbits throughout the trail. Based on this gossip, I had formed my own opinions about the girl before I ran into her on trail, thinking she was a bit of an airhead. As soon as I saw the hiker dressed entirely in pink with a pink backpack, I knew it was her without being told. I kept up with her speedy pace for a few miles, curious to meet this icon I had heard so much about. She excitedly shared about her love of pink (it Must be pastel, not any other shade) and fashion, her favorite show Love Island, and how she was planning to tan at her favorite beach in Florida post-trail. But then she went into more about her trail experience, how she felt like the hiking community does not respect feminity and how what many see as her feminine weaknesses are actually some of her strengths. She Loves failing because it is more exciting and fun and she learns so much from it. Leaving aside her Only Fans gig, I was surprisingly inspired by her and respected her gumption. All the hate she had received on or off trail had only further motivated her to finish this trail. Later in Packwood, she stayed at our group Airbnb, and I saw how loving she could be. She burst in the door one morning and exclaimed, “Mother Teresa, look at this jacket I found!” and somehow, in the little town of Packwood, WA, Flamingo had found a pastel pink puffy jacket. I don’t agree with her profession, if you can call it that, of posting on Only Fans, but I love Flamingo as a person, and I was wrong to judge her before meeting her.
Cottontail, an Aussie with bushy blonde eyebrows, was on the outside of the super tramily like I was. We hiked together with Flamingo briefly, but I mostly got to know him in and after Packwood. That’s also when Dodger appeared, an upbeat fellow I had briefly met on a bleary 6am morning in Belden, CA. We formed a little crew with Extra as we shared a hotel room and did a two-day sobo (southbound) journey from Chinook Pass back to White Pass to strategically avoid some cold and rainy weather. Dodger had spent years as a camp counselor in the south, and that positive energy shone through him. Cottontail was easygoing, relaxed, and had a nice smile and sense of humor.
The closures and wildfires continued to drive people off trail; at times, it felt like there was more momentum to get off the trail and go home than there was to stay on. Many hikers quit at Snoqualmie Pass, the end of the continuous sections of open PCT trail. People were dropping like flies, so I had to insulate myself from their energy to stay true to my course to Canada. Early in the trail, Walrus had taught me the concept of “bringing the good weather,” meaning that you need to bring positive energy with you and find others who shared it. I tried to find and surround myself with the hikers whom I thought were determined to make it to Canada. The primary person was Spoons (I learned after the trail that he thought MY determination was what got him to the finish, ironically). Or perhaps Spoons was so easygoing that I knew I could persuade him into keeping on instead of quitting. We had hiked on and off since early Oregon, and I considered him the most likely person to stick with me until the end. Extra was also around but seemed more likely finish with Picasso (a popular guy).
We hit some pretty miserable weather near Goat Rocks, low 40s with rain, my least favorite. That was unfortunately the day my friend Phiwat decided he would visit me on trail (for a second time, a real overachiever!). Little did he know he picked the literal worst day of weather in my whole hike to join me. Thanks for persevering, Phiwat! Spoons went to stay with his parents for a few days to avoid more bad weather while I did my mini sobo journey and zeroed in Packwood. I was worried that Spoons would pull a Cascade or a Mayor and get vortexed with family, never to return again. Fortunately, he returned, and we reconvened at the Alpine Club in Snoqualmie Pass, one of my favorite stays.
Like I said earlier, plans kept changing. After the poor weather, Extra, Portrait, Dodger, Cottontail and I hatched a plan to sobo then hole up in Packwood to ride out more rain. Once in Snoqualmie Pass, I took another zero to wait up for Spoons and Picasso. Then in Skykomish, we got the big news that the terminus had reopened! It flet like I had been rewarded for slowing down and that it had reopened at just the perfect time for us. At that point, the remainder of the super tramily that was nearby decided to take a ferry to Stehekin as a way to reroute the upcoming still closed trail. It seemed like just the day before, Picasso had been gungho for walking to the border, so I was surprised. Extra joined this ferry group, so I said goodbye, thinking this was the end of my hike with him.
The walking alternative that Spoons and I chose featured walking 20 miles along a highway and 70 miles of total road. Our rainy road walk out of Darrington was my second least favorite section of “trail.” We got on and off the asphalt to avoid cars as they whizzed by, a mentally tiring exercise and the opposite of relaxing. Not to mention the pain it gave my feet. The third day of road walking may have been the most pain I have felt on trail. I had to take pain killers to go to sleep.
There was one more surprise at Rainy Pass, 60 miles before the border. I got text messages from Extra and Raccoon, saying they would be leaving Rainy Pass the following day. I convinced Spoons to stick around so that we could all hike together. (I appreciate how he was always so flexible).
My end to the PCT felt like a dream come true. I had given up on finishing with Raccoon in NorCal, and I had thought Extra might go with Picasso. Nevertheless, we were all able to finish together. I hadn’t spent as much of the trail with Spoons, but that didn’t mean I appreciated his presence any less. The terminus had reopened, and our last four days of weather was positively exquisite. Seems like someone “brought the good weather.”
Leave a Reply