Dinner in Stehekin, l to r, Dragon Ant, Stilts, Gopher, Sweet Fish, Alden, Lost (me), Truant, Hearsay
On Monday morning, I went to the post office in Stehekin to discover an empty package with my name on it. Since my mail drop had been FedExed, it had been left in the lobby. Someone had opened it up and taken all of the food. All that was left were 2 letters. One from my mother and one from my sister. Luckily my friends came to my rescue. Truant gave me some of her homemade trail mix, Sweet Fish gave me a couple of granola bars, Hearsay gave me an entire bag of chex mix and Dragon Ant gave me crackers. I was able to get the rest of the food I needed from Stehekin’s convenient store. The disappointment I felt from having been robbed was replaced by gratitude for having such good friends.
“Now this I have to see” the bus driver said as he handed me down my pack. I had bought an apple pie at the bakery in Stehekin and was planning on packing it out. “I bet you that thing doesn’t last one night.” The bus driver joked. I carefully placed the pie at the top of my pack. It was surprisingly heavy and I knew the man was right.
The eight of us had taken the 11 o clock bus back to the trail and hiked in an enormous conga line. The trail took us past some delicious thimble berries which slowed us down a good deal. We spotted a black bear enjoying the same tasty treat. It was dusk by the time we made Rainy Pass. We all pitched our tents and sat in a quiet circle enjoying dinner and yes, pie.
The following day brought snow up high and freezing rain in the lower elevations. No one complained about the weather though. The trip was almost over and we knew that in a few weeks we d be stuck at desks and in classrooms and would give anything to be back here; back free in the freezing cold wintry wild. So we savored every icy view, every windy blast and even every painful step.
Stilts, Dragon Ant, Alden and I had a plan. There was rumored to be a Yurt hidden by the pass where we were planning on camping and we were determined to find it. Dragon Ant spotted it from a distance and we took out our maps to figure out where it was. After coming to something of an agreement we continued on. It was about a ten minute walk off the trail but we found it just fine.
The Yurt was raised high above the ground and there were new wooden steps up to it. Alden walked up first and we followed anxiously, knowing full well that the door might be locked. It wasn t. About five minutes later a furious rain started beating down on the canvas roof. We were very happy to be inside. We ate dinner in our sleeping bags and slept soundly not quite believing that our walk was about to conclude. 25 miles stood between us and the Canadian border; only 25 miles until the end.
We awoke to a steady rain and joked about taking a zero day right there. I started walking at 6:30 and the day flew by. We all separated around lunch time. I ended up eating down in a valley 7 miles from the border. A man who was camped at a nearby lake wandered by. He asked me where I was coming from. “Mexico” seemed like a million years ago. “You re early” he said. I laughed to hear those words. Down south I had continuously been told “you re late” since I had started half a month after most hikers do, so this was good to hear.
The final seven miles of the trail were all down hill and down I went. After about two hours I saw a group of four heading south “the border’s just around the corner” one of them said. I smiled and I ran. Down around the corner and there it was. In a valley next to a long straight clear cut. Canada. The line I had been hiking towards for 109 days. The sight I had been dreaming of since Mexico. Stilts was there waiting and we gave each other a victorious high five. Just like at the Mexican border, there is a PCT monument at the Canadian Border. I sat down on my sleeping mat across from the structure and stared at it for a little while, trying to absorb the fact that we had just walked from Mexico to Canada. It is difficult to believe that trail that took me through the brutal desert heat, up the impossibly tall passes, and through the raging river fords was this same quiet trail that I sat by now. Dragon Ant, and then Gopher and finally Alden came. Big smiles. A few tears. We took pictures and lingered.
We hiked into Manning Park that evening and had one last dinner together. We then celebrated our accomplishment with microwaved’s mores at the lodge. Saying goodbye is not easy. No one ever said it would be. After you cross the Canadian Border, things change quickly. We were all rocketed back to our places in the world. Back to be carpenters and lawyers and students. The homesickness begins to fade after a little while. You get used to sleeping in a bed and getting back to your old schedule. You can take comfort in your memories and in the fact that for 4 months you lived. And you lived deep.
