Yesterday our trek through Washington officially culminated in following the PCT across the Bridge of the Gods, passing the “Welcome to Oregon” sign. The Bridge of the Gods is an active roadway, is very narrow and has no sidewalk to speak of. So as we celebrated our successful Washington completion, we were also hugging the guardrails as enormous logging trucks rumbled by mere feet from us. As much muscle as I’ve built hiking these spectacular peaks, even my thighs aren’t strong enough to prevent me from being absolutely squished by a semi. As we crossed the bridge, 2 Northbounders were crossing on the other side. We yelled “Welcome to Washington!” to them and they delightedly yelled back “Welcome to Oregon!”

Last week we took 4 zeros, with 33 miles left to go in Washington. We hopped off trail in Carson, a tiny adorable town that has a great coffee shop and a very cheap motel that happens to sit on top of a hot springs. We took quick showers and then spent some time in the gigantic pool-sized hot tub, flabbergasted by our luck that they’d let hikers ANYWHERE NEAR such a place. We languished happily, awash in bubbles and the sounds/sights/smells of a motel that has not been updated in any meaningful way since the 1980’s. Adding to this surreal time travel, the TV had only a few channels, one of which played nonstop back-to-back episodes of the Price is Right from 1984. We cooked instant potatoes on our stove just outside the motel room, and let ourselves feel giddy for the days to come.

Our first treat arrived in the tiny, beautiful form of Eby, one of my bestest pals from college. She bounded up to our motel room with a bag full of snacks and a face full of laughter, and we squished the everliving heck outta each other. Eby, a true trail angel, took us out to eat for brunch at Egg River (in Hood River), and insisted on covering the bill. We cackled with shared joy and memories, and got in as many hugs as humanly possible. Eby also drove us back to Toasty’s car up in Trout Lake, and got to meet several other lovely stinky hikers lounging around the Trout Lake general store. Eby, WE LOVE YOU.

We also received the most wonderful, thoughtful care package from one of my other bestest pals Jesse. It made me happy cry, and it was full of so much incredible food. Between Eby and Jesse, we didn’t even need to buy food to resupply for the next section. Food also tastes so much better when it comes from people you absolutely love.

The hits kept on coming as Toasty, Argie, Dumptruck and I drove up to Tacoma to meet up with Papa! Papa happened to be out in Tacoma for a work conference, and the timing worked perfectly for us to be able to spend time with him when his conference ended. Once we collected Papa, we loaded all 5 of us, including Papa’s suitcase, into Toasty’s Prius (which we have officially dubbed The Toaster) and headed to Seattle.

From 1983 to 1986 Papa and Mama were stationed in Seattle (Coast Guard) and my family lived in an adorable little house on a steep hill in Ballard. It was in this house that Argie and I’s older sister was born, followed shortly thereafter by me. Neither I nor Papa have been back to see the house since then. He remembered the address by memory, and after stopping to see the house, we got great hamburgers and cupcakes in downtown Ballard. Then, buoyed entirely on memory from nearly 40 years ago, Papa directed us to Ballard Locks, where we watched Salmon climb up a fish ladder, hurried onward by the horde of seals happily gamboling about the harbor. Shortly thereafter we drove to Puget Sound, and sat with our feet in the water, watching the sun set over racing sailboats, disappearing behind invisible mountains obscured by thick, low-laying smoke on the horizon.

The next day we spent exploring downtown Seattle, ending in going to an absolutely great Mariners-Royals ball game at T-Mobil stadium. It was genuinely so, so fun. It was an edge-of-your-seat game, and I have officially transcended to a true Baseball Boy. I have favorite players and everything. Argie also got an old school am/fm radio with an extendable antenna so we can listen to games even if we don’t have cell service. Ultralight hiking who?

The last day we tried driving back up to the border to be able to finally get that missing 60 mile section from the start of the trail. We were so close, but got turned away last minute by the fire service, because lo and behold, most of Washington is currently on fire, and all the roads into Mazama are closed until further notice. We allowed ourselves a few moments to feel bummed, lamented our fate, then rallied effectively. This is just part of hiking the PCT – everything is just minutes away from being on fire, and there’s nothing to be done as a hiker than accept there will be sections you just can’t do this time.

So it was that we jetted back down to Carson and hopped on for the last 33 miles of Washington. It was a rainy, foggy, gorgeous and exceptionally challenging section. We were hiking through clouds, the moisture collecting on the trees above us and raining down doubly. Argie, Dumptruck and I soldiered through it, and I had just one minor meltdown that only made me cry only a little. Also, Dumptruck and I each got several yellowjacket stings when we stumbled past a nest that had been dug IN THE MIDDLE of the trail. So I got another round of screeching and crying while running away from the offending stinging bastards as fast as possible. I will say the 2 yellowjacket stings 1 inch apart were nowhere close to as painful as the bald-faced hornet sting. Still 0/5 stars. Do not recommend.

We have reached the announcement portion of the blog: we are officially skipping down to the Sierras. Not only are Oregon and Northern California ON FIRE, but also, we’re hiking waaaay too slow to be able to finish the PCT in 1 attempt. For a variety of reasons (fire, fire and fire), we decided that we would have a much better experience if we skipped Oregon and Northern California, hopped on at The Sierras, and hiked continuously South from there to Campo at the Mexico border. We’ll still end around the same time we’d budgeted for (late November/early December), and don’t have to change our hiking pace. This also means that for you blog readers, you’ll get Southbound Enby Part 2 when I come back to do Oregon and Northern California in the near future. My plan (right now) is to do it next year if the timing could work. If that happens it’ll likely just be me hiking solo, so that could be exciting, as I likely will go all manner of delirious from trying to make friends with marmots.

The next blog post will be from the Sierras! Get ready to see us gallivanting through an alien landscape at 13,000 ft!

Love,

Thresher