Despite the recent soak in the hot tub, the good food, a comfortable bed, and an Advil PM, I wasn't able to sleep past 5:30 this morning. Still, after I got a big breakfast under my belt, I was feeling rested. We headed out of town and stopped at the Bend outlet stores on our way. We had seen a Columbia outlet store and wanted to check it out for a long sleeve shirt I could hike in. It's too hot hiking in my fleece, and short sleeves are just a dinner bell for mosquitoes. We picked up a shirt, which I added to my collection of resupply goodies, then we headed back to the trailhead.
We took a few pictures at the trailhead and then I said goodbye. The next time I see them I will be done with the trail, one way or another. I started out just after noon under skies that were partly cloudy and promised showers at some point. As I walked I wondered if my new shirt would be any good against mosquitoes. I had chosen one that has "insect blocker." Apparently that is some sort of treatment that makes the fabric repel all kinds of bugs. Sounds like witchcraft to me, but I'm willing to try anything. As a back up plan I also got a mesh head net and some mosquito repellent. Within the first mile I was confused why I wasn't constantly slapping mosquitoes. I figured the weather must be keeping most of them in hiding. When I stopped to readjust my pack, though, I was soon surrounded. That was when I noticed that not a single mosquito landed on my new shirt. In fact, most of the bugs were around my legs, staying completely away from my upper body.
HALLELUJAH!!!
And so I was able to hike for the first half of the day mostly mosquito free. This shirt is now my most favorite piece of gear. I owe a debt of gratitude to the sweatshop workers in China; if it were up to me I would give you each a 20% raise in salary. I don't care what other peole say, you're worth the extra 8 cents per day!
The first few miles of trail took me past Rosary Lakes (pictured). I was actually able to enjoy the view of these crystal clear lakes, since I wasn't busy swatting bugs. The trail then re-entered deep woods (shocking), where it stayed for the next 13 miles. Around 15 miles in I began to hear the distant rumbling of thunder, far to the west. I also got a few sprinkles of rain, though they didn't last long. I was approaching Charlton Lake at this point and, though mosquitoes still refused to land on my shirt, a few tenacious ones were flying around my head. I broke out my head net, which worked wonders. The net is a bit annoying because it mutes the colors around me and constantly brushes my face, but it's a damn sight better than mosquitoes.
I stopped for dinner at Charlton Lake, where I met some section hikers. They informed me that they had met southbound hikers who had complained about snow around the Three Sisters. Apparently there is no trail due to snow, and these weren't the first people to tell me so. I thanked them and hiked on, preoccupied by this problem. To be honest, I can't say at this point that I will finish the whole PCT. For one thing, my feet hurt pretty much all the time now. The metatarsalgia is part of it, but I also have blisters underneath my calluses, which don't seem to want to go away. I tried draining them tonight, but I have to shove the needle into my foot with all my strength just to get through the thick calluses. Even then it doesn't always work. I did get new inserts for my shoes, which help immensely, but I can't say how many more miles my feet can do. I think I now have the mosquito issue under control, which was another problem I wasn't sure I could continue with. By far the worst issue, though, is the snow. For all my tough talk, I hate being off trail in the snow. It is exhausting and time consuming and, quite frankly, can be a bit dangerous. As I walked after dinner I wondered if Three Sisters would end my trip.
As I contemplated all this I entered a section of forest that had once been burned. Dead trees stood sentinel over gently rolling slopes where small vegetation and saplings showed renewed hope for life. Above stood a low mound, possibly an old cinder cone, covered with more dead trees. A single rumble of thunder broke my reverie and caused me to look up at the hill. At that moment a double rainbow appeared, more vibrant than any rainbow I've ever seen. It arched delicately over the hill, contrasting brightly against the dark and cloudy sky. The last rays of light lit up the trees on the hillside, turning them ghostly white. With the hill looking like a head of thick white hair and the double rainbow above, the whole scene screamed Anderson Cooper. Seriously though, it was one of the most beautiful sights I've yet encountered.
I thought about how lucky I was to be in that spot at that particular moment, because the view would have been obscured from anywhere but that section of burned trees. The solitary rumble of thunder had seemed to say "look, there is beauty even in devastation." Or maybe it just said "he-ey sailor! Turn on the Celine Dion, grab some spritzers and come climb me!" I'm not very good at interpreting these things.
As I marveled at and took pictures of the rainbow it began to rain. I ran back to my pack, laughing like a little kid, alive and exultant in the cool Oregon rain. I grabbed my pack and moved on, throwing one last look over my shoulder before I entered the woods again. The rain was stopping and the rainbow fading. It was as if it had only wanted to be witnessed, forming for one person for a few fleeting minutes, and then gone.
I hiked on into the fading light, soon entering a new section of burned trees. Irish mountain lay ahead, a gentle purple slope to the north. To the northeast I could just begin the make out the Three Sisters, severe, snow capped, and beautiful in the remaining sunset glow. I knew that Washington would be all snow, but for me at this point there is no Washington. For now I see only the sisters, who may well be the Scylla and Charybdis of my trek. I get the sense that my entire adventure is fated either to pass, or to end, crushed upon their snowy slopes. Still, I reflect on the hilltop and its multi-hued crown. There is still beauty to be found when you least expect it. I still have a lot of hope, but I have also made peace with whatever may come. Some epics, even though destined to fail, are still worth telling, if only for the journey itself.
