So we have decided to enjoy the last days of the trip – no rain/snow for us, no sleeping at high elevation if we can help it, no big miles. But still, only four more days!
We are in the very tiny town of Mazama today, taking our last zero to wait out some weather, then the forecast is clear skies till the end of trail!
The day before yesterday we were in Stehekin, where we picked up our last mail drop. The very friendly post master, an old man with a big beard and a patch over his eye, looking more like a sea captain, said he’d been waiting for us after we gave our last name. He even remembered my first name and that it had an unusual spelling. He said we won the prize this year for most mail!
We also won the prize for the only re
box that rats got into, he very apologetically told us ,
and said we could fill out a claim. I didn’t think a bag of cheezits was worth the paperwork, which was luckily the only thing they got into.
Thank you so much to everyone who sent us something! It was like Christmas! Thank you to my aunts Tammy and Dody for the inspirational cards, to my friend and former neighbor Joyce for the creative and inspiring cards, to Kate for the yummy treats and batch of beautiful cards from her summer, Liz and Becca for the candy and card, my mom for supplying us and our hiker friends with whoopie pies throughout our journey, Jason’s parents for his birthday gift. As well as previous mail drops, Veronica for the Probars, and Dan for introducing me to the wonderful world of Starbucks drink mixes, and anyone I missed, it was all greatly appreciated. (Also, Dan another thank you, it was you who first introduced me to the trail, telling me about your hike on a carpool to an eval.)
We know we couldn’t have done this trail alone. While I’m on a thank you kick, I might as well continue…all the kind people that gave us rides, and trail magic, most recently the lovely cup of hot tea and other treats back in the beginning of Washington when the weather was at its most miserable.
Also, as another hiker put it, friends and family are the best trail angels. I deeply thank those friends and family who have supported us on and off the trail by giving us places to stay, bringing us food, or just offering words of encouragement and support when I most needed it.
And thank you Kim for the kick-ass training program you created for me prehike. I’ve been wanting to thank you since the Sierras –all those stream crossings were made much easier with all the balancing exercises you had me doing! Even before that, thanks to Allied PT and my talented knee surgeon. My knee was maybe the one part of my body that never gave me any grief!
And the last group I must thank is all of the other thru hikers on this trail, that have made me laugh when I wanted to cry, see the joy and beauty in the trail when I no longer could, or just commiserate in our shared misery. (Thank you Pretzel for finally saying it out loud, sometimes we all just hate hiking.). What a wonderful and wacko group you are!
Washington has been kicking our hiker butts! The last few sections have easily been the toughest on the trail, elevation gains certainly comparable to the Seirras but with the added bonus of poorly maintained trails and shitty weather.
But we’re making it! The sun did peek out here and there. Stehekin was a lovely place to visit, right on beautiful Lake Chelan, with an amazing bakery. Mazama is another cute little far-off-the-beaten-path town. We’re tired but in good spirits, as are the few other hikers around us, and we’re ready to tackle those last 70 miles!
Ok, now for the part you really want to read – the bear story (I hope you didn’t just skip to this part of the post;)
Yesterday, we hiked out with a group of other hikers. We’re hiking along and hear a whistle sound. Now, a few days ago we’d identified a bird that makes a sound just like a whistle, so I thought that’s what this was. But this one was incessant. We come upon the couple ahead of us and she tells us there is a bear near the trail, while he is blowing his whistle and shouting, trying to scare it away.
It was right on the trail when they came upon it, and it moved a little further up the bushes, munching on them and not giving a hoot about the noisy hikers below. It wouldn’t budge. This went on for maybe 20 minutes, with Jason adding to the shouts, and me staying at a greater distance with the wife, who was quite beside herself over the predicament.
Eventually one of the other hikers came up and bravely, yet gingerly walked below the bear (about 30 feet from the trail). By this time, the bear had stopped eating and lay itself down on a big rock, belly-down, paws hanging over the sides, chin also resting on rock. It did pick its head up to watch the hiker, Sunshine, pass by, but didn’t lift another muscle.
We weren’t quite as brave, but we did realize we couldn’t just live on this spot of trail, we did still have to get to Canada. We tried climbing down the ravine to go around the trail, but it was too steep. So we figured if we all went as a group, the bear would probably leave us alone.
Just then, yet another hiker, Catwater, from Alaska, came along and confirmed our plan was a good one, having had more experience with lazy bears than any of us. So we marched in a tight row, hiking poles in the air to make us look bigger, clacking them together and singing “When the Saints Go Marching In” right past the bear, who again only lifted its head to watch us pass, Catwater stopping to take a picture.
That was definitely the best view I’ve ever gotten of a bear. It was a black bear, but its color a rich brown and bigger than any one I’d seen in Maine. And we have a good story to tell now when people ask us to tell them a story from the trail, as they often do.
Onward to the border!