Tonight I have a bit to celebrate. First and foremost, I made it past the sisters. It wasn't easy, it took all day, and my feet hurt like hell, but it's done. I am also celebrating a milestone I reached when I hit highway 242 at the end of the Three Sisters section. I am now done with 3/4 of the PCT. Tomorrow I will cross another big milestone, the 2000 mile mark. Finally, I am celebrating a mostly mosquito free day with plenty of spectacular views.
The day began with no mosquitoes, so I was able to break camp at my leisure. I began hiking and quickly passed the James Creek Trail (pictured). That was back when the day hadn't gone to hell yet. About a mile later I lost the trail. At first I was hitting small fields of snow, and could find the trail again by canvassing the far side of the field. But then the fields got bigger, and the woods on the far side became thick with snow as well. I took a picture of my pack in the middle of one such field (it's that black speck in the middle). These fields did, however, afford me some great views of Middle Sister (pictured). When I came out into a broad swath of treeless snow (pictured) I knew I needed a navigational plan. If I had a compass I could triangulate off South and Middle Sisters. Lacking that, I decided to climb a ways up Middle Sister and see the lay of the land. Once there (pictured) I was able to rest, eat, and plot a course. By the way, if you can see the mountains in the background, they are (from left to right) Mt. Washington, Three Fingered Jack, and Mt. Jefferson.
I was following the course I had scouted for about a mile when I came across a hillside strewn with obsidian. I was already behind schedule, but the archaeologist in me couldn't resist, so I took a half hour break to play. Back in college I took an archaeological lab methods course, and I had to create a report on a fictionalized site. I chose to recreate a lithic reduction site, and to do so I taught myself to flint knap. I wasn't fantastic, but I could make passable arrowheads. Today I tried to remember the skill. Now normally I would hold the obsidian with a hank of leather. After all, you're holding glass in your hand and essentially smashing it with a rock. Since I didn't have leather, I just held it in my hand, resulting in many small cuts and a couple deep gashes on one finger (the price you pay for being about as smart as the objects you're banging together). Anyway, I got a decent shape going (pictured). It was ready for pressure flaking (using bone or antler to delicately flake off the last bits and give the tool its final shape). Lacking bone or antler, I tried pressure flaking with stone, and ended up breaking my arrowhead. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
I hiked on and somehow came across a fragment of trail. I had gone about 6 miles across snow. From there the trail became easier to follow, with patches of clear ground every 50 yards or so. Then, without warning, I came out of the woods and into Mordor. The landscape became volcanic, with piled lava rock extending for miles and cinder cones rising from the mountainside. Above it all presided North Sister, the final guardian along my path to the highway (pictured). Fortunately the last 10 miles to the highway were easy to navigate, because by then the day was getting old and I was exhausted.
I spent a little time at McKenzie Pass at the Dee Wright Observatory (pictured). Dee Wright was a "Local Experienced Man" hired by the CCC in the early 20th century to do the masonry for the observatory. In his 24 years with the forest service he was also called upon to route some of the PCT.
I hiked on into the last of the sun's rays, climbing 800 up to Little Belknap peak. The going was hard on my sore feet, as it was all over basalt lava flows. The trail was composed of chunks of rock anywhere from the size of ping pong balls up to the size of my fist. I headed over the top and started down the other side just as sunset hit Mt. Washington ahead of me. I snapped some pictures and found a flat spot among the rocks that would be big enough for my sleeping bag (with few mosquitoes I can sleep without my tent). As I write my blog I can hear the bellowing of elk somewhere nearby. What a cool end to a tough yet spectacular day.
Yesterday I made 32.5 miles, today only 26 with all the snow. I worry a little about snow tomorrow, since I will pass Mt. Washington and Three Fingered Jack. I sure could use an easy day!
