Zero Pressure

Part 2 of the Pacific Crest Trail resumes on a bus bound out of Stehekin for a 110 mile stretch into Steven’s Pass.

I had mixed feelings getting off that bus to begin part 2 of the trail. The barest bit of civilization that was Stehekin exerted a powerful gravity. I opted to enjoy a full day there and rest, taking a ‘zero’ as hiker’s say. The funny thing about zeroes is that it can totally shuffle who you wind up hiking with, and it parted me from good pals Smoko & Meg (now, Turtle). I usually like a spin of the roulette wheel, but out here it has consequences.

I wound up in the isolation zone, camping alone for the first time this trip after bushwhacking the overgrown trail uphill in heatwave conditions. Things cooled off at least up top in the tundra, but it was an exhausting beginning, and the millstone of a week’s food on your back weighs on the spirit. At least I can feel solace that my food resupply was near perfect in distribution for this six-day stint.

Its funny being in and out of that intense loneliness that is thru-hiking for me. Sometimes you’re surrounded by people and other days those same woods can be empty even of sound. Leaving the population centers immediately reinforces how few SOBO hikers there are out and about. I’m feeling that totals are in the low hundreds across six weeks of potential starts.

One young hiker that’s been in my bubble who seemed otherwise cool (he was reading The Dark Tower!) unfortunately openly carries a handgun in his pack. Seeing a hiker with one out here feels taboo, not only in terms of violating my personal safety and hiker mores, but just thinking about the extra weight of one means it’s a serious commitment. I avoid him like the plague after Smoko pointed his gun out to me in Stehekin, left in an unattended pack for hours. I think a lot about what to say, but so far have left him be and stayed aloof. Who wants to confront the kid with a gun anyway?

Back to hiking, with that unpleasantness addressed. On the second day, rife with the doldrums of navigating more sinewy shrubs and nuked trail, I plugged into music to power through the green tunnel. I was initially ill at ease blocking out sound, but it felt right while beating back some of the mind numbing boredom that is hiking under the canopy at length. I’ll be tapping in plenty more, so send me your album recommendations pretty please.

I was rewarded in the end by finding myself atop a scenic ridge for twilight. A few designated campsites below were filled (by the gun wielder & his friend) and I had to explore my way up further. Though I had to camp dispersed, I did wind up having a chance encounter with a couple NOBOs, Killjoy & Hooch, who are friends of my pal, Maxine, and even eerier, I had actually taken Killjoy’s portrait back in 2018 in Hot Springs while she AT hiked. Good company for the night & what a pair of coincidences!

I caught up with a second Megan on a gloomy overcast day, and we fell into a good groove. A full day (or three) walking and talking with someone is enough to get a little window into their soul. She’s doing the Washington section before heading off to Thailand and hoping for a full thru-hike next year. Busy lass! I’m proud that we came up with a trail name together too, Hopshins. It’s her remix of ‘Hot Options’, that I coined for her three bottles of hot sauce that gave me some great variety on my pb&j tortillas. The best trail names are silly, but also can be kind of lionized and reworked to fit the evolution of their wearer.. e.g. all the Scavenger titles I fiddle with.

I’d keep pace with her through the rest of the section to Steven’s Pass, where we’d swim icy lakes or vainly swat at mosquitoes together. At the pass and the conclusion of the section, we scored an easy hitch to Dinsmore’s Hiker Haven for a shower and laundry pitstop. Dinsmore’s was a strange place.. its owner, Jerry, is near the end of life and not really able to upkeep it any longer, nor really even converse. I’m grateful it exists, and it looks like it once glowed as a refuge but I’m not sure on how much longer its got. I’d love a proper hostel experience, but who knows if I’ll have a single one with how empty it’s been out here.

A bright spot was my best friend from Tucson, Merrianne, swooping in with her friend Debbie after Hopshins and I finished our chores (my first shower!). Hopshins we dropped off in Skykomish for her hotel & mail pickup. It was funny being stuffed in the back of Merrianne’s camping Subaru together before parting. We’d take a zero & resupply in the glam of Leavenworth the next day before meeting her nephew who she’s doing the aforementioned PCT section with.

Merrianne also told me she has her heart set on relocating to Idaho to be near her aging sister and the woods of the PNW that she grew up in. It’s possible this is the last time we see each other for some time, but I’m holding out hope she’ll linger for another Winter in Tucson before I lose my trail work buddy.

Alas! The same fate that started this chapter would befall me again for zeroing. Hopshins went off to do a half day while I lingered contentedly in Leavenworth, and the next section subsequently became a sustained sprint to try and catch her, falling short despite back to back marathon days. I was aided briefly in my quest by the turbo hiker, Drifter, who hikes the PCT seemingly annually, but this year had misplaced his wallet. I kept up with his light speed for a couple hours before giving up that ghost. After two days of turbo, I was convinced I had passed her and took a more laconic pace to camp at another arctic lake just north of the hiker town of Snoqualmie Pass to enjoy a nice evening’s swim and a rinse of the hiker-wear.

Ironically, I’d find her the next morning camped on the other side of that tiny lake I had been floating in the night prior, much to my chagrin. She was hiking with another dude, teamed up with the gun-toting lad and treated me like a stranger. I let them be and did my own thing; brooding on the concept of the person I had thought was my friend having been replaced by an alien. I try not to be entitled about other people’s time and feelings, but this one hurt, emotionally and physically at how close I must have been each day to catching up and having fallen short when my turbo sputtered, and then getting that reception. She reconciled with me later in the day over a beer, but the taste of it all was just too bittersweet, and after further reflection, I decided going off on my own way was better.

Thankfully not all of my day in Snoqualmie Pass was glum, I saw a lot of the hiker characters I pass off and on including one last glimpse of Drifter. VP & Paul from Seattle dropped in with some ganja and chafing ointment delivery, and my good pal Bold & his wife, Zoey, & friends also were nearby in from LA. Them and then other nice strangers chatted me up in the brewery there while I did this writing.

That’s why its “zero pressure” out here. The typical rhythm of savored days off from the challenge of the trail off with friends is muted here on PCT SOBO. I know everyone’s in a hustle for reaching the Sierras before the cold, but come on, relax a little! I don’t get it and it bums me out, but maybe the solution is to do more miles. No zero for me in Snoqualmie Pass! I night hiked a mile out of town to a perfect little swampy lake where I did my first skinny dip this morning. Once I sort out all my feelings, I’ll again be hiking zen. And probably alone, too. Let’s just hope I keep all my marbles.