Day 8 - If a tree falls in the forest…….!!

Start Time: 6:30 am
End Time: 7:40 pm
Start Mileage: 2552.20
End Mileage: 2566.90
Distance Walked: 14.7 miles
Elevation Gain: 2,310 ft
Descent: 4,078 ft

Last night, when we arrived in camp, we were all tired, sore, and rummaging for painkillers in our packs. In my opinion, this section of the PCT has been the hardest and most demanding I’ve done so far.

We were up and moving by 6:30 am, still facing a 2.9-mile climb to reach the summit we had started yesterday. The trail began with some blowdowns, but they were nothing compared to the last few days. The climb was relentless. We stopped once for water, then pushed to the summit, where we found probably the only flat spot on top of the mountain. We set down for breakfast and waited anxiously for the water to boil so we could enjoy coffee—a small daily luxury we all savor. That it comes so early in the day is probably the only drawback.

Unbeknownst to us, we still had another 500 feet to climb before the trail finally began to meander downward. We had set an ambitious mileage goal today, knowing that the more distance we covered, the less we would face tomorrow. Our destination: Stehekin, where we plan to enjoy a well-deserved zero. Two nights in a real bed, a chance to recharge, and the opportunity to pick up our supplies for the final leg of the journey.

The descent, however, was a letdown—mostly loose rock, perfect for twisting an ankle. Then came the bushwhacking, where the trail disappears into the brush, forcing you to watch every step to avoid tumbling into it.

The past couple of days have at least been cooler, which has kept the mosquitoes away. Unfortunately, the flies have taken their place. Even as I type, I’m being swarmed, so I’ll keep this short.

There’s an old saying: If a tree falls in the forest, does anyone hear it? Well, we can answer with a resounding yes. Huckleberry had just uttered those very words when an almighty crash echoed about 300 yards away. We weren’t in danger—it was uphill, and the deadfall would have stopped anything from reaching us—but it was a powerful reminder of the forest’s unpredictability.

Our downward progress slowed with the poor trail conditions, so I’ll fast-forward to 4:00 pm, when we came to a major river crossing. Woody and Huckleberry balanced their way across on a log. I, lacking hiking poles, decided to wade across. I was on the other side quickly, though now with wet feet and shoes.

Back in the forest, the trail became more pleasant. Woody, full of energy, pushed ahead to scout for campsites, while Huckleberry and I followed at a slower pace. Spirits were good—until the first crack of thunder. Lightning is always the real concern, especially in these dry conditions. We picked up our pace, hoping to reach camp before the storm.

Raindrops began falling when we were still 10–15 minutes away, and by the time we reached camp, it was coming down steadily. Several tents were already set up, including Woody’s. Space was tight, but we managed to pitch our shelters and throw our packs inside before they got soaked.

I noticed water pooling on my tent floor, so I quickly dried it with my towel, then set up my air mattress and sleeping bag—so far still dry. Fetching water was tricky; the creek rocks were slippery with rain. Dinner was cooked under my vestibule and eaten in the tent—carefully, since the last thing I want is a bear attracted to food smells. Once finished, I stored my bear canister away from camp, cleaned up, and got ready for bed.

By the time I zipped up my tent, it was quiet in Woody and Huckleberry’s shelters. I assumed they were already snuggled into their bags for a well-earned rest. I finished writing my blog around 10:15 pm, closed my phone, and settled into my sleeping bag.

It had been another long but good day.