Section 22 - Government Camp to Cascade Locks
August 18
25 miles. Today was Mt. Hood day. Jane dropped me off
at the trailhead after breakfast and I climbed 2,000 feet
to Timberline Lodge and my resupply box. I then spent
most of the day hiking around the mountain.
The trail wound down, up, in, and out of canyons with
spectacular views of hanging glaciers and the cloud-shrouded
summit. The awesome forces of water--both frozen and liquid--are
at work here. Every fold on the mountain's flank, no matter
how minor, has a rushing stream and the peak is deeply
gashed by landslides and glacial river channels. I crossed
several such streams, their flows swollen in the late
afternoon heat.
I stopped for lunch at the top of a deep, steep canyon.
I dangled my feet over the edge and craned my neck to
see the summit towering above me. To the north I saw the
shattered remains of Washington's Mt. St. Helens, looking
like a broken white tooth on the horizon. After lunch
I descended to a valley and passed beautiful Ramona Falls.
The water cascaded from the cliff like a peacock tail
and the sun formed rainbows in the mist.
I passed quite a few dayhikers and backpackers out for
a few hours or days. A few asked my destination and gave
me a big "Way to go!" and a smile when I said
where.
I'm camped tonight at 4,000 feet, about a mile from Lolo
Pass. This is the Bull Run Watershed--the water supply
for the city of Portland. According to the sign, "It's
a violation of federal law to leave the trail." I
left the trail to camp but fortunately the Watershed Police
weren't around to witness my transgression. The fog has
settled in for the night and it's drizzling steadily.
Tomorrow I'll reach the Columbia River and the Washington
state line.
August 19
30 miles. I made it to Cascade Locks on the banks of the
Columbia River. The Washington border lies about 100 yards
offshore and I'll reach the other side via The Bridge
of the Gods. Two states and 2,150 miles down, one state
and 510 miles to go.
It was a foggy, cool morning after the all-night drizzle
and the foliage was soaked. Soon, I too was soaked from
the waist down from wading through the overgrown flowers
and shrubs that spilled onto the trail. I walked high
ridges all morning but saw nothing except ghost-like trees
appearing out of the gray void.
I passed a couple of fifty-something PCT section hikers
late this morning and stopped to chat. One of them said
he had seen my website and had enjoyed reading it. He
asked, "does you wife hike too?" I said, "yes,
but she's home sending me food boxes." He replied,
"Oh, when we hike, ours just go shopping." They
both laughed--in a nervous sort of way--and walked on,
counting their financial losses in their heads.
I reached Indian Spring just as the fog lifted and I
stopped to get water. A few feet beyond the spring a trail
disappeared into the brush. The guidebook recommended
the trail as a scenic alternate route to the Columbia
River so I took it. It was slightly longer than the official
route but worth the effort. After a very steep descent
the trail reached Eagle Creek Canyon and followed it out
to the Columbia. There were some beautiful waterfalls
including Tunnel Falls, a 120-foot torrent spilling over
a semicircular rock wall. Blasted out of the vertical
wall, the trail ran across the face and through a tunnel
behind the waterfall. Definitely a highlight of the hike
through Oregon.
When I reached Cascade Locks I went to the post office
to sign the PCT register. Another thruhiker--whose name
now escapes me--was signing
the register and I asked how his hike was going. He said
that this was his last day on the trail. His hiking partner
had developed a hernia and it terminated their hike. He
was heartbroken to get this close and have to give up
but they had agreed to make-or-break it as a team. It
was a very sad moment.
Cynthia's sister, Sarah, is picking me up in a few minutes.
I'm taking two days off in Portland to heal some injuries,
melt some Washington snow, and wait for others to catch
up. God willing, I have about 21 hiking days to Canada.
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