August 20, 2013
36 miles
Mile 2216

A heavy morning sky full of sweat. No rain. But if you listen closely you can hear it gently soaking your worldly possessions. Still warm inside my bag, I lazily left them to their fate. A brightening of the sky my alarm. Time for miles. Out of camp by 730, Orbit earlier.

Fought my pack’s insistence on returning to a rub spot on my tailbone. I adjusted straps, it worked its way back. Finally gave in and accepted a deepening. Caught up with Spoon Man and shared the trail for a while. Learned of his life dedicated to long walks and bike rides. Each paycheck a step closer to the next adventure. Seasonal work, seasonal passion. He seemed content with the balance.

As I neared Trout Creek I was on alert for the home for wayward and aggressive bees. Never saw it but paid my toll of one sting passage. Immediately found a small flashlight on the trail. Figured someone under assault must’ve dropped it. Carried it forward in pursuit of its owner. Came to a sign warning of mountain lions in the area. Credible through hiker spottings were tacked on. The theory of mountain lions goes as follows. If you see one he isn’t hunting you. If one is eating you, know you were hunted. Thus there is nothing that worry will help and so I don’t bother with it.

A long 3000 foot climb left me searching for diversion. So I watched ants. These days black ones. Since Mexico I have been crossing over and on the lower kingdom of ants. I’ve probably slaughtered thousands with my size 13’s. But if I took my last step on the PCT, and lay down, I am sure their revenge would be complete. I eyed them waiting. Not today amigos. Orbit had picked a sun-drenched spot for lunch with a big view of Mount Adams. I dumped all that was damp and listened to it’s stunned crackling. Orbit napped as I stuffed bagels and cheese down the drop pipe. Slowly my body slid drowsily to horizontal. Woke up remembering I had been eating. Knew this from the bagel in my hand and the chewed bits still in my mouth.

Took a couple of miles to wake up from the sun. Talked for a while with a clean-shaven southbounder. Only later did it dawn on me that it was Scott Williamson, a trail celebrity on par with Billy Goat. He has done the PCT probably more times than I can count on my fingers and toes. His speed record of 64 days only broken this year. A little Hollywood to break up the day. Word is that I passed him on his way to recover his title.

Washington is known for its ups and downs. It delivers. I accepted, unlike the post office. Shooting for a destination at 36 miles, I needed some assistance. Put on the radio and listened to an hour of commercial free music out of Portland. Starting at five it was aimed at easing the commute from work. Why not? I’m applicable. My work is commuting and avoiding crashes.

Pushed by the beat I arrived home at a very early 8 o’clock. An easy commute today. Joined Sharon who was introducing her son Roman to the joys of backpacking. His demeanor pointed to a future PCT through hiker. They graciously shared their fire and even boiled up some water for my dinner. Orbit arrived grinning with donated gummy bears. We passed the evening swapping tales with our hosts. A bulging moon came up and chased shadows across the landscape. Our cue. Good night and good bed.

Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde

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