On the last day of the PCT we arrived to find a large wooden monument that marked the northern terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail. There, I said a few words to my friends and fellow trekkers. I was asked to post this for them. It’s one of those “you had to be there” kind of things.

“I want you all to take a journey with me. I want you to use your mind’s eye, think as vividly as you can back to just a few months ago. Come back with me to the Mexican Border and the southern termanis monument.

Think about those brand new kicks, the fresh socks, spick and span pack, and shiney new tent strapped to your pack. Think about that ride to the terminus, the anticipation winding up in your stomach. Think about that very first step into the arid desert.

Think about that first big hill, up and over, dumping down into Lake Morena and that first nights camp. Staring up through your tent into the night sky, marking your first night on trail.

Think about pushing through the desert to those “active explosives in area” signs and feeling a little nervous.

Climbing up to Mount Laguna and the 60 mph winds, 20 degree night, and frozen water pipes in the morning. First full on views of the desert below.

Julian and Mama’s Pie, Scissors Crossing and the huge cache at 3rd gate (Thanks trail angels!).

Stopping off at Mike’s Place for a burrito with a side of machetes and whiskey. Secretly hoping to yourself that your not going to get stabbed that night.

Breakfast at Paradise Bakery. Idyllwild and at its quaintness. Finally dropping weight, slowly climbing up to San Jacinto Peak. Cold as hell, huge smile on, looking north to hot desert and the Gorgonio Mountains.

Dropping down, sleeping under the I10 at Cabazon Pass. Natty light in hand, thinking this is what it means to be homeless.

Pushing on to Big Bear Lake, your first hotel on trail.

Hiking to Hiker Heaven and soon after Agua Dulce. Getting your first real trail angel experience complete with laundry and a ride anywhere you needed.

The 24 challenge to Casa de luna (shh lets keep that on the low)!

The push through the Gorgonios, trying not to get bfed at hiker town, walking the huge LA aqua duct. Thinking about all that water below your feet and not a drop in sight.

Hiking beneath the Air Turbines, finding Tehachapi and some killer BBQ at Red House BBQ.

Fast forward now: Getting your feet under you, finally exiting the desert at Kennedy Meadows south, entering the famous Sierras.

Seeing the snow covered granite wide spread wilderness before you in all its glory. Your first 14er, waking up at 1am, that beautiful sunrise (maybe it was the best sunrise you ever saw).

Forester Pass, Kearsarge Pass, dropping into Bishop, that awesome guys who gave you a 40 mile hitch, and of course Hostel California.

All the passes, Muir was by far the best, the snow the sunrises, the ice cold lakes you jumped in. Man the Sierras really rocked my world.

Northern cali and all its green tunnel goodness, Mt. Shasta, Castle Rocks, the smoke, Seiad Valley and the State of Jefferson. Finally touching that fucking Oregon border! Finally out of California, it only took 3 months!

Ashland, the smoke, my first zero in Oregon, pushing 30s getting full on. Crushing bigger miles. Crater Lake in all its beauty (if you could see it).

Busting through to the Three Sisters, Hiking up to Mt Hood and Timberline Lodge, the smoke in the air but you can still see the beauty.

Finally pushing to PCT days and Cascade Locks, brews with friends you hadn’t seen in months!

Stepping into Washington across that crazy fucking bridge trying not to get hit by passing cars.

Finding the elevation again was back in full force, Trout Lake, Mt Adams, the Goat Rock Wilderness.

Coming down Snowquolumne, Dru Bru (I know you got a beer . . or two), Skykomish, the rain and the 100 mile race, getting dry, seeing the end insight going for it.

Motoring on to Holden and their awesome hospitality, the whole town coming to wave you off in the bus to the Ferry like it was a scene out of some Hallmark movie. Stehekin and their closed off city, the delicious bakery, and of course . . . your last resupply.

Pushing on and up, up and down, down and up again, finally reaching Hearts Pass and the final fire detour.

Hiking down to the creek, packing in your celebratory beer, champagne, smoke, whatever floats your boat, all the way, step by step, to the border.

I want to be the first to say to all of you, congratulations for your achievement. You just walked across America from Mexico to Canada. 2650 miles end to end. You earned every inch, you earned every mile. You and the friends standing next to you now.

Go ahead and open your eyes, and Welcome to Canada!!!”

Thank you all, for everything.

9.7.18

The end is near.

At 4:30am I woke to see lights outside my tent moving around in the darkness. I wasn’t supposed to be up yet, but my eyes were open and the excitement got the better of me. I was up and out packing up my gear for the day. Pickle was long gone, Pooper packing up, and Sissyphus snoozing away as usual. I staked my tent out for rain, threw on my pack with just food, water, and extra clothes for the day and headed out into the dark.

It wasn’t long before I was at the junction of Rock Creek and started the climb out of the valley back to the true PCT. The trail was chunky and for a good half mile was riddled with downed trees. Climbing over the trees takes time, and slows the pace, but with a light pack I was moving quickly. Up and on I pushed until finally seeing the golden ridgeline ahead. On the ridge I saw a small line cutting across it’s face, which must be the PCT. I was getting closer!

I thought for sure that I would have seen Pooper by now, but so such luck. The sun rose revealing a beautiful morning sky as I climbed the hardy gain. After reaching the PCT and pausing for a quick snack I pressed on. The end was creeping closer and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it.

Behind me I saw another hiker approaching. It was Mr. Giggles, and we greeted with huge smiles at the top of the climb at Castle Pass. Below us we could see Harper lake, all the way down to its bottom. We chatted on and soon to my surprise Sissyphus came rounding the corner. Pooper had got turned around in the dark and took a wrong trail. He wasn’t too far behind us so we pressed on.

Down we went inching closer to the finish line. We chatted on as usual and paused only for a moment at a small fall just a quarter mile before the Canadian boarder to chill the bottles of Champagne we baught in Stehekan a few days before. It was surreal. We were right there, so close. We pressed the final distance as if it were any other stretch of trail. Finally the monument came into view. It was weird, like seeing death for the first time in real life, just stairing back at you expressionless, without simpothy or encouragement. We walked up and simultaneously layed our hands on the wooden statue. We did it . . .

Pickle was there to greet us, and soon the rest of the crew started rolling in. There were a good 15 of us hanging out taking in the finish in our own way. Snapping photos, wooping out calls of completion, excitement, and also relief. I got all of us together for a picture, and afterwards read a little speech that I had prepared for the finish. It was a really cool moment, for all of us.

After the celebration subsided and making the realization we still had a good 17 miles to hike back to camp, we got moving. The gain began and we took it on quietly. We walked, strange in our own way, until we saw Johnny Staches group coming in. We all greated and congratulated each other on making it there. We trekked on, back past the lake, climbing up and on the gain, as the sky grew darker with rain clouds. The rain began to sprikle on Sissyphus, Pooper, and my heads, but the views were still incredible. Light spilled down beneath the clouds in areas in the distance revealing the ridgelines and valleys of this beautiful place.

Finally we reached the detour as the sun began to set. We trekked the 7 miles downhill in dark. To our surprise the trees we were forced to jump in the morning were mostly all cut and removed from the trail. A maintainence crew had come in the day and eleaviated our struggle. We were all exhausted, stubbing toes, wet shoes, and a long day finally ended when we reached our tents at 10pm. The slumber we had that night was solid as a rock.

The next day we awoke early and retraced our steps back to Hearts Pass. We sat there, tired and in disbelief that we had truely finished and there wouldnt be 30 miles of trail waiting for us the next morning. With our thumbs out we got lucky and hitched into Winthrop with a bear hunter. Walking into School House Brewery my buddy Dan and my girlfriend Izzie were just sitting there waiting for us. Big stinky hugs and high 5’s we celebrated that we had made it. Off the trail and back to civilization. It was a strange feeling, and my mind struggled to process it, but the fact is: We were done, we had walked across America. Mexico to Canada, 2650 miles, in 147 days. Wild!

Recommendation: Shuberts unfinished symphony

9.6.18

I woke to the sound of the Methow River flowing just feet away from my tent. It was time to pack up and get rolling. Not many people were moving, just the way I like it! I hiked up and out of the forest to find a sick ridgeline. Smoke was in the air and the sun shown orane through the veil, but you could still see its beauty. Soon Pooper and Pickle caught up and we all trekked the ridge together chatting on about how weird it was that we are getting so close to the end.

We hadn’t seen Sissyphus that morning and kept our eyes peeled as we walked the beautiful ridge. We saw a few day hikers and knew we were getting closer to Hearts Pass. I kept looking for goats as we skampered on with no luck. Soon, just before the pass, we found trail magic! A big group of dirty hikers was together hanging out as we pulled in. Bologna sandwiches, orange soda, mellon, and a piece of pumpkin pie were munched on untill we were full, fat, and happy. We just sat there, relaxing as Sissyphus rolled up. After snacking on, we slowly slogged out back onto the trail.

There was a small 2 mile climb up to Slate Pass where we dumped off into the Holman Fire bypass trail. Down we went, switchback after switchback. We found a creek at the bottom of the valley and Pickle pulled out his fly fishing rod. Pooper was like a kid on Christmas with excitement as Pickle pulled in the first trout. Giggling on as the fish flipped in his hand Pooper jumped with a yelp as the fish escaped his grasp. It is the little things.

We pressed on knowing we still had miles to cover before camp. We started telling jokes, stories, and riddles as the miles melted away into the heart of the valley. At the first bridge we saw Mr Giggles and his crew all set up for camp. It sun was setting and the 4 of us pressed on through the dimming light. We reached our camp at the 2nd bridge just 20 minutes later and quickly made the best of our accomidations.

Pooper and Sissyphus headed to the river for water and I soon joined. Upon arrival Pooper was nursing a toe he stubbed pretty bad in the dark. It wasn’t until he lifted the nail on his big toe and blood came spirting out that I knew the depth of his injury. I told him to tape it up and don’t touch it until we were off the trail. Just 2 more days, gotta hold on man!

Tired and cranky, we all finally made some food and appeased our insatiable appetites. Soon we were in bed being serenaded by the nearby creek. Tomorrow we would touch the Northern Terminus of the PCT. What a strange thought!

Hiker Profile:

Pooper – 30, from Michigan, originally from India. He has been on a path if change since he moved to america for his Masters Degree in Computer Science. He was 220 lbs (100kg) and in hitting the 100 kg mark he decided it was time to make a change. He started running as a way to loose weight, and he became addicted to the sport. Since starting his new passion he has run over 80 marathons, lost 80 pounds, and in November at the completion of the NY Marathon, he will be the first Indian to complete a marathon in all 50 states. He completed 30 marathons in 1 year, lost 70lbs, and ran his first marathon just 2 years after his first run ever. Its been a journey coming from a 38 inch waist to a 30 inch waist, but now he is a 10 star member of the Marathon maniacs (a group of runners that have completed 3 marathons within 2 weeks).

I woke at the trailcamp, with Sissyphus’ tent butted up next to mine and Pooper sleeping just feet away cowboy style. He looked like a bight blue caterpillar laying there. I got ready, and was soon standing, coffee in hand, ready to let out.

I was starting to get excited about reaching the terminus. We were close enough that I started to plan our miles as I hiked taking in the scenes. The trail climbed on, and soon after crossing the river, it climbed some more. It was nice being first out, I got the trail to myself, plus a little peace and quiet. I pressed on.

Soon enough Pickle caught up to me and we chatted on about post trail businesses and past adventures. The miles melted away and soon we stopped at Hidden campground for a snack and to give Pickle a chance to fish. I made my usual burrito while he set up his fly fishing rod. With a few flicks from his wrist and letting the fly float on the water’s top just by boulders, he had a cutthroat trout on the line. Pretty happy he pulled him in, pulled out the fly, checked him out and released him back into the stream. He repeated this like it was as easy as breathing another 2 times.

Finally I pressed on meeting Sissyphus on the trail. He pulled off for water and I pressed on, soon finding Pooper and Pickles’ company once again. I told the story to Pickle about how I got into climbing and my obsession to summit Zoroaster Temple in the Grand Canyon. He chatted on about starting up a podcast and the long list of interesting people he already had in mind to interview. We trekked on chatting away as a trio and soon came to Highway 20 and Rainy Pass.

Not 5 minutes had gone by before 3, count them, 3 trail angels all showed up with food, snacks, gatoraid, and of course beer for any dirty hiker trash that wanted it! We snacked on, kicked back, and really enjoyed a long long early lunch. With 15 miles left to go I decided to push on.

I trekked on up the sun-drenched trail, but the temps were good, and the gain was better. I switchbacked back and forth working my way up to Cutthroat Pass. Soon Pooper caught up and we soon turned a corner to meet Sabrina and Kathryn. They were out for the weekend, and Sabrina’s husband Fred and their half chihuahua half wienerdog. Sabrina had taken some time off work, she had a hard year and told us about her son who had passed away in a tragic kayaking accident. Apparently he was paddling at a very high level and just had an unlucky day. The four of us sat there on the ledge overlooking the beautiful, yet smokey sky as if we had known each other for far longer than 5 minutes. They were really lovely and after chatting for some time we knew we had to hike on to get to camp in the light.

I gave Sabrina a big hug, sometimes people need it, whether they know it or not. Pooper and I trekked on, dropping down, skirting the mountainside towards the Methow Pass. The views were pretty stellar. Stopping for water at a small creek where an older couple were camped, we once again chatted on. It seemed to be a popular day to be out!

We gained the pass, waved to Fireball, Painter and crew, and finally dropped into the valley headed north towards camp. Down it plunged into the forest which just made it seem darker. After a few miles we arrived at the Methow River and it seemed like tents sprouted from the ground. Almost every tent site was spoken for. After some careful searching we found a spot, made dinner on the bridge and started to eat as Pickle and Sissyphus finally came strolling in, in the dark. They were taking their sweet time. Now that the whole gang was together we ate, bullshitted and headed to bed for a good night’s rest!

9.3.18

My brain was in review of this whole thru hiking thing this morning. In doing so I thought back to a conversation I had with my brother on trail. I remeber him saying at the end of our conversation “I gotta go, some of us ave to work”. I rememeber thinking, then replying “Well at least after your 8 hour shift is done, you go home”. Its a funny point, people’s perspective from the outside is so skewed from what its really like to be on trail.

It seems that people read blogs, see Instagram pictures, posed shots and the glamor of the trail. Imagine us all taking long naps, long breaks, feet up for hours, perhaps you walk a bit if we feel like it. When the reality is anyhing but. There are blisters, shin splints, collapsed arches, muscle tears, long 13-16 hours of walking every day, no weekends, pushing physical limits, mental limits, and sometimes people break. Some people quite, go home. Ive seen it happen first hand, for so many reasons. I guess the main point I’m making is that I don’t want people dissalusioned by pretty pictures and think its all fun and games. It is a dream come true. But for most things that are worth it, hey take hard work to achieve.

I woke to a decently non-fridgid morning for once below the mighty trees. Coffee in hand, I headed out and knew the climbs for today were going to be tough. Right off the bat, after Milk Creek the trail began switchbacking back and forth climbing the mountainside through lush green forests. I paused for a moment meeting a FlipFlopper from Belgium. We chatted for a moment and I pressed on. I topped out the climb to be given some sick views of the mountains to the east.

In the distance I saw a hiker climbing the switchbacks of the draw, and soon realized it was Tornado! I handn’t seen him since A Thousand Island Lake way back in the Sierras. We chatted on and caught up taking in the scenery. Soon I left him and continued to water where I plopped down for a good break. Pooper soon joined me and few minutes ater we saw Sissyphus bopping down the trail.

We all headed out and bombed down the other side of the ridge. Down, down, down we went all the way to 2300 ft next to Suiattle River. The forest here was old growth and had some good humus going at its feet, not to mention everything was covered in moss and little underbrush. It was pretty cool and seemed as though anywhere was a good place to lay down for a rest. We breaked for lunch and goofed around as Pooper found a good table for his feast.

Letting our it was every man for himself. We agreed to camp at Layman Lake and took off! The first 5 miles seemed like a roller coaster parrallelling the river. Up and down it went until finally it started to climb the moutainside with long steady switchbacks. One after another the climbs came in waves, endless like the ocean. The forest was gorgeous, and the climbing seemed especially hardy.

I took a short break half way up the climb shoving snacks in my mouth, ready for the top. Finally I broke out of the forest and saw some incredible peaks and ridges in the distance. I had to snap some pictures before taking off again. This time the climb was quick and switchbacks were shorter, climbing faster. Finally I topped the saddle overloking Laymen Lake and rejoiced that camp was near as the sun started going to bed. I hustled the mile down to the lake as the forest and the setting sun shaded any light from my path. Finally I arrived and chatted on wih Sissyphus and Pooper as I set up camp! “At least it wasn’t 9pm tonight” I announced! What a great day!

9.2.18

Rose, Thorn, Bud. Try this at home.

So the rose, thorn, and bud excersice is something StuckOnTheGround started with the group at the end of the day. Rose being your highlight or favorite part, thorn being your biggest challenge, and bud being what you are looking forward to tomorrow. This may sound all “kum-bay-ya” but it is a really nice way to reflect on the day and find something to be thankful for. Recognize challenge and gear your mind towards the future.

My Rose for today was the stellar views from the tops of the two ridges we climbed and the sunrise that morning. My thorn was the fact that I ripped a left shoe, broke my left earbud, and lost my smartwool beanie on the trail somewhere. These 3 events put me in a crap mood, but somehow pulled out of it. My bud is seeing the views from tomrrows big climb and starting the fire reroute which will bring me and the boys into Stehekin!

I stirred in my tent. The cold air nipped at me, and finally I forced myself to move. A cloud had passed over us in the night dropping off some nice dew all over our tents and sleeping bags. Mmmm waking up damp, not my favorite! Despite this I got moving, rolling my wet gear away and was rewarded with an incredible sunrise.

Drifts of fog rolled in front of the ridgeline views and I was enjoying them until I was engulfed in my own fog or low cloud. Pooper had caught up with me and we trekked together taking in the views. The ridge dropped off into a valley and climbed out the otherside to a clear, sunny, meadow on the side of a mountain. We took a nice break and I threw all my gear out to dry. Sissyphus soon joined us to take in the stunning views!

We had somehow taken almost an hour break and in realizing it decided to get our butts in gear. It was business time! Sissyphus took off, and Pooper and I followed. We climbed a nice ridge seeing weekend backpacker after backpacker to our surprise. Afterwards dumped down the other side back into the forest. Lush green forest, moss covering the forest floor, waterfalls bellowing hundreds of gallons of crystal clear water pumped life into the underbrush. On this decent my toe got caught by a root and it ripped my shoe, dang! Field repair time!

Just before reaching our meetup spot the trail turned swampy and the bushes reached in. One grabbed my headphones and ripped my left earbud from the wire. I was pretty pissed, I used these to jam to music, and always put them in at night to pass out within minutes of laying down. Soon I saw Sissyphus, I plopped down all grumpy and continued to eat and work on my shoe.

The guys pressed on as I finished up. I knew I needed some time to work off some steam. I absolutely hate having to spend money on materialistic things that i’ve already paid for once. Anyway the climb up and out of the valley did me good. Head down and heart pumping, I climbed on. Soon I stripped off my hat and hung it on my pack. By the time I reached Glacier Creek and looked down to realize my hat was gone, it was already too late. Turn crabby into pissed the fuck off! It just wasn’t my day. Good thing I had more climbing to do!

I pressed on after going back and searching hight and low. I reminded myself I was out here in a place where not many people ever get to go, much less for 5 months and I should be thankful. That combined with the climb finally put my mood in check. I topped out and was rewarded with 360 incredible views!

Knowing I had little time I bombed down the other side. Switchback after switchback the light began to fade from the sky. As I decended further into the valley below the light just became dimmer until finally I had to turn on my headlamp to walk. Finally I reached camp where Sissyphus and Pooper were setting up. Whew made it! We chatted on and caught up during the nightly chores. I was thankful for my two friends on the trail. Despite the thorns, the rose of the day was gorgeous and the promise of the bud to come will only keep me in suspense.

9.1.18

I woke just a few miles out from Stevens Pass. I could hear Superstar talking in her sleep. She didn’t stir as I put my food bag into my pack, shouldered it, and headed out. It seemed to be a dim morning and I sipped on my coffee and shook the chill from my fingers as I walked. Up and over a ridge I went just to be back into the fog again.

On the back side of ridge the temperature dropped dramatically and I plundge down into the other side. Snaking through the greenery I finally fond a nice creek flowing well and stop for my first break of the day. Soon Sissyphus and Pooper come rolling up. “Hey hey fellas!” I said as I threw my pack back on. We hike on as a trio chatting on about all kinds of silly things that come up when 3 guys are together on the trail.

We kept a good pace rolling, up and down over passes. The views in the distance were starting to clear and we could see far off peaks, some with snow on them. We paused for a lunch break and I cooked up ramen as Pooper and Sissyphus snacked on. Pooper almost fell alseep and we started threatening to call him Napper instead.

From here we treked the next 1.5 miles to Pear Lake, grabbed some water, and quickly pressed on. It was a no nonsense day because we wanted to get some good distance covered. The next few miles were a everyman for himself style, Sissyphus rocketed ahead down some steep slopes and Pooper and I would leap frog here and there. Granite rocks, pines, and blue cold mountains in the distance was our new home.

I soon came around a corner just south of Skykomish Peak and saw 2 guys in camflage with a spotting scope. I asked what they were going for and the said bear! “Whew!” I said asking them if they had seen any goats in the meantime and if they had seen any bears out. No goats, no bears, no such luck! I bid them fairwell and started skirting the ridgeline. The mountains that painted the horizon were incredible!

I soon passed MaryAnn Lake and Pooper paused filtering some water. Pushing the last stretch to campo I came across at least four marmots in bushes right next to the trail. Their little brown butts and legs scampered from under their salt and pepper backs. They seemed unusually close and soon I realized they were munching on huckleberries trailside. I quickly walked past and climbed the final switchbacks to camp where Sissyphus waited.

He was all set up at camp, and soon was I. Pooper came in just a few minutes later following suite. Food, stretches, and teeth brushing preceeded the utter dive into the tent escaping the cold night air. The wind seemed to bite especially hard tonight! 50s? 40s? No one had a thermometer, so we just had to guess from the comfort of our sleeping bags. Another great day on trail!

8.31.18

Rain rain go away come again some other day!

I woke to a nice chilly morning at packed away my things. Everyone but Sissyphus stirred in their tents as I left. The sky was cloudy grey and threatening rain, but we were only 12 miles from town.

I pressed on hiking quickly trying to keep warm when the rain, slowly but shurely started to sprinkle down on our heads. It dampened my mood and the rain mixed with the low 50s temps made it hard to get moptivated. I soon pulled over to call BooBoo Johnson and found some nice huckelberries to munch on simultaneously . . . bonus points?

Afterwards StuckOnTheGround caught up and we trekked on through the rain and the wet underbrush up towards the pass and ski lifts for Stevens Pass. We chatted on about trying to keep the moral up while in less than perfect conditions. She guides for kayaking company in Alaska and their weather there isn’t exactly perfect. As we approached the pass, day hikers and backpackers came headed in southbound. We reached the pass and paused for a cell signal check.

I had signal! And a text from Izzie saying that the northen termanis was open with a special bypass! I was so excited and told the crew, instant moral bost!

Once we reached the pass StickyFingers was chilling with his dad making breakfast sandwiches and handing out cold beverages. That on top of the great news of the open terminis really turned the day around! StuckOnTheGround, Pooper, Sissyphus, Happyu and myself hitched into Skykomish. After a run to the post office, we all reconvined for lunch.

We said goodbye to Happy as he headed back to Seattle to move. He would be back on trail the next day. Pooper headed back to the pass to grab a package before the lodge closed. StuckOnTheGround opted to stay there trying to stretch the trail out as long as possible. Sissyphus and I finally hitched back to the pass after stuffing ourselves to the gills with delicious food and icecreame.

We finally let out, back onto the trail. It was just a half hour before the sunset so we only got about a mile or more. Headlamp on and tired, we found flat spots, pitched tents, and passed out. What great news about the end, it was so close we could all taste it!

Movie reccomendation: Damnation

8.30.18

I was the first up and out of our trailside camp. We had packed in wherever we could, finding semi-flat spaces, just good enough to fall asleep on. Happy was up moving, StuckOnTheGround and Pooper shuffled in their tents, and not a stir came from Sissyphus. I hiked out having goodbye and walked into the canopied green snaking trail.

It was quiet and scerene, it was so peaceful and I moved quickly up and through its winding curls. Underbrush, ferns, green sprawled every inch of ground, and the trees rose up like giants covered in moss. Water ran across the trail from side creeks who were fed from little mini waterfalls. All the creeks of course ran down to feed the mighty Waptus Lake. Finally after quite a few miles I passed my first hiker, the only thing he said to me was “It might rain, it might not”, in reply I said “Well, at least it isn’t right now”, he chuckled and I hiked on.

Soon gaining the next small saddle I saw Gormet and caught up to him to chat. We trekked together for a bit approaching Deep Lake. The foreground was a golden meadow, the lake beyond, and looming above was Cathedral Rock. It was loomed in clouds and commanded a powerful presence. I pressed on starting up the switchbacks. About half way up I pulled over and decided to have second breakfast. As I stood to leave Happy came bumping along around the corner.

We hiked together gaining the next saddle where we paused for a break. Soon Pooper, StuckOnTheGround, and Finally Sissyphus came rolling in where we all took a break. The next few miles we stuck together down the dropoffs and up the gains joking on and singing silly songs. It was a really nice day, and as soon as we gained a ridge we were slapped in the face with incredible expansive views of the surrounding mountains!

We made our way up to Deceptive Lake where StuckOnTheGround went for swim and the rest of us made lunch. It was nice, but chilly spot. CatctAss came rolling in to join us. We all let out, hooving up the next large hill. The views were stellar. Glaciers clung to rocky mountains and high lakes set snuggled at their feet. We finally took Pipers pass and evaluated our camp for the night. We had another 5 miles or so before we would have a fitting spot large enough for all of us to cram.

It was every man for themselves! Everyone going at their own pace, we boombed down from the pass, past Glacier Lake, and took the tough gain up to thew ridge overlooking Trap Lake. It was a short down and a quick mountain skirt before we were all nestled down near the spring. Setting up camp we were all bundled as well as could be. Rainjackets went on over puffys and rain pants came out for optimum warmth as the temps started to plummit. After stretching, food, and nightly chores, we all leaped into our tents hunkering down for the already cold night. It was a great day and the views were incredible!