Pacific Crest Trail - Day 181 - Glacier Peak Wilderness
Start: Mile 2424.5 - Backcountry campsite
End: Mile 2546.4 - Backcountry campsite
Glacier Peak Wilderness was called out explicitly in the PCTA Closures app with a note that ”serious caution is advised and many people would be wise to plan trips elsewhere“.
We found that many people did skip this section for a multitude of reasons ranging from time pressure for international visas, to time/weather pressure from a rapidly approaching winter, to heeding warnings about challenging / dangerous trail conditions. With just over a hundred miles to go to the border, heading around this section didn’t even cross our minds.
Many blown down tree obstacles on the way down to Milk Creek.
The mile on either side of the creek was badly overgrown with plants soaking wet from rain the night before.
The trail was soft, slanted, and overgrown.
Someone left a message spelled out with pinecones. My thoughts exactly.
We hiked up into some sunshine and used the opportunity to dry out all of our gear while having lunch.
This tree was doing its best crazy straw impression.
Wow
An obstacle course.
This was a section where we were acutely aware that we didn’t have health insurance, and were a day or so away from any rescue opportunity anyway. Things you try not to think about, but seem to pop into your head as you’re precariously scooting around or climbing over shards of a snapped tree.
The ”trail” avoided this particular rats nest of trees by heading straight down the mountain, cutting down to the next switchback. (See Kristin above)
The afternoon heading down towards the Suiattle River was an obstacle course, and probably the second worst stretch of trail we’ve encountered over 2500+ miles.
Evidence of trail maintenance!
The final miles down towards the Suiattle River were wide and beautifully maintained.
On the last stretch to the campsite I turned a corner to see a chipmunk take a few steps and sit in the middle of the trail ahead of me. He folded over forward and breathed heavy slow deep breaths. He had tufts of fur missing on his back and sides and it seemed as if he had just been in a fight with some other creature and had been really roughed up. While it was incredibly heartbreaking to witness his final moments, I am happy we were there with him. We told him we loved him and that we would remember him. Love you little chipmunk!
I mentioned it in a previous post, but it really feels like wildlife have accepted (for lack of a better word) us out here. Perhaps these wildernesses are remote enough where animals are merely more curious about than fearful of humans, but it feels like we’ve had interactions of a deeper connection than just curiosity.