Tag Archives: PCT

Savor

Very early in the hike a single word came to mind, SAVOR.  To take time and simply be on the trail surround by grandeur and expansive space.  So I did.  Though I had many miles to cover each day, I also took time to simply stop and soak in the view.

60 0819 am Rock Pass Camp (2)To Savor

As the Serenity Prayer states, To Enjoy One Moment at a Time.

51 0818 Lupine 2 (2) compressIn my day-to-day world of ministry, my schedule can be filled  with meetings, appointments and tasks.  On the trail I wanted to embrace the empty schedule.  To simply BE.  To savor the opportunity to hike a trail surrounded by rocky peaks and steep valleys.

75 0820 Crater and Jack Mt (2) compressThe second night I noticed the tag line on my freeze dried dinner – Savor The Adventure.  I can honestly say I did.

 

28 0817 Savor Woody Pass (2)

Savor The Adventure

Psalm 46:10  Be still and know that I am God.

When and how do you savor life?

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International

35 0818 Trail near Hopkins Pass cropped compressI have hiked three sections (70-100 miles) of the PCT solo.  It has become my preferred option.  Though on the PCT in midsummer one is rarely alone.  Day hikers, overnight backpackers, and other section hikers were encountered each day.  The most intriguing of fellow travelers are the thru-hikers.

15 0816 So Done William frm Belgium cropped

“So Done” William

I probably encountered twenty of so thru-hikers during my recent trip. They started at the Mexican border and now 2600 miles later they were approaching the Canadian border.   William (trail name “So Done”) was the first I met.  He was from Belgium and had started in early May. He was a college graduate student who would go back to school when he returned to Belgium.  I hiked with him for about thirty minutes until his pace was too fast for me.

Many of the thru-hikers I met were from Europe: Sweden, UK, Austria, and Germany. Most were young males in their twenties.   You could quickly identify them by their beards, light packs and thin, thin physiques.

Two in particular stood out for me.  One was the morning of my day hike to the border and back (25 miles total).  I was up early and on the trail by 5:15 am.  It was a beautiful morning with the western North Cascade glowing in golden light.  I passed a sleeping bag by the side of the trail and a head poked out to greet me.  The young man’s accented English and scruffy beard hinted that he was thru-hiker.  I asked where he was from and he said France.   I asked if he would finished today and he cheerfully said yes and went back to sleep.  I hiked on.

42 0818 Monument with JVK 2 cropped compressAbout four hours later I was at the trail monument on the Canadian border, talking with some other section hikers.   I turned to see the young French man again, briskly moving down the trail, wearing only his pack and hiking shoes.  Nothing else!   I had read about nude hiking before, but this was my first encounter.  As he approached he said, “Oh, I guess I better put some clothes on.”  I decided nude hiking will not be my choice to lighten the pack.

As I turned back from the monument, a thru-hiker actually touched my soul.  He was older with some gray in his beard.  He stopped to tell me that he was from Prague in the Czech Republic.  He wanted to tell me how excited and grateful he was for our nation preserving the PCT.  “There is no trail like this in Europe.  I am so happy that your country shares it with the world!”  He was so exuberant in his praise for our country’s wilderness that I could only nod my head in agreement.   His joy was so contagious that it carried me the next few miles.

Being at our border for a short time allowed me to reflect a bit on being American and the gift our nation is to so many.  I pray that I might be as grateful as the hiker from Prague.

Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. Hebrews 13:2

One

Last Saturday, I completed my fifth section hike on the PCT.  The Pacific Crest Trail starts at the Mexican border and snakes north near the crest of the Sierras in California and the Cascade mountains of Oregon and Washington.  I hiked the last 61 miles of the trail, from Rainy Pass in the North Cascades to the Canadian border.  Since I didn’t have my passport, I enjoyed an additional 40 miles to the Canyon Creek trail head where my brother and sister picked me up.

02 0815 Cutthroat Pass 2 crop compress

Cutthroat Pass on the first day

Rather than write a day-by-day travelogue as I have done in the past. I plan to reflect on my hike through the selected use of single words.  If you have read any of my blog over the past two years you will note that I have been growing in my practice of mindfulness, being present in the moment.  I carried this practice into the hike and wish to share it here over the next few weeks. One post at a time.

12 0816 Trail below Methow w Pack  cropped compress

Pack with tent and trekking poles

One aspect of backpacking that I enjoy is how simple it is.  I carry only what I need for the trail.  I aspire to be a lightweight backpacker with a basic (no-food) pack weight of under 20 pounds.   My basic pack at the start was about 18 pounds with an additional 10 pounds of food and water, for a total of 28 pounds.

I want my writing to be as spare.  So one word (and a couple of pictures) will be my focus each post.

There is one body and one Spirit, . . .  one Lord, . . .  one God and Father of all.  (Eph 4:4-6)

New Hike Begins

Today I once again strap on my backpack and walk a portion of the Pacific Crest Trail.   This summer I am doing the far northern section of the trail in Washington, near the Canadian border.  I will be starting at Rainy Pass in the North Cascade National Park but most of my hiking will be in the Pasayten Wilderness.   This will wrap up my hiking of the PCT in Washington.

Pasayten Wilderness

Pasayten Wilderness in Northern Washington

As in years past I will post pictures and reflections when I return.  My intentions on this solo hike will be to use it as an opportunity for contemplation and meditative walking.   I plan to hike about 65 miles so I will have time to slow down and be still.  I’ll let you know how it went.

If you are curious how past years went, here are some of my posts from previous hikes.

My 2014 hike in Southern Washington starts here 

My 2013 hike in Central Washington starts here

My one attempt at a backpacking cooking show is here

The joy of the Lord is our strength. Nehemiah 8:10

A New Place of Wonder on the PCT

Writing this blog, I realize what a geological snob I am.  I have lived in Minnesota for over 40 years (including my first year of life) and yet it still seems too flat to me.  I know rolling terrain exists, that hills and ravines are scattered throughout the state.  The thousands of lakes and tens of thousands of pond add wondrous geography to our map.  Still I yearn for mountains and the wonder they ignite in my soul.

Hiking towards Mt. Adams

Hiking towards Mt. Adams

I had seen Mt. Adams in southern Washington from a distance, but had never hiked near it.  Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, and Mt. St. Helens tend to get the trail guide publicity.  However being 12, 281 feet high, it is the second highest peak in the state.  The Pacific Crest Trail approaches Mt. Adams from the southwest and then skirts around the peak at about the 6000 foot level, right along timberline.  Unlike my hike around Glacier Peak the year before (where I had to climb up and over several ridges) the trail remain at a fairly steady elevation.

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The one disappointment was the big burn area that I hiked through for more than six miles.  A forest fire two years ago destroyed several square miles of forest.  Intellectually I understand that such fires are necessary for the long-term health of the ecosystem.  Still I felt grief and lost that the beautiful subalpine forest (which takes decades to re-grow) would not be replenished in my life-time.   The good news was that new green life was already taking a foothold on the landscape.

 

On my third night I camped near Sheep Lake.

Mt Adams from Sheep Lake

Mt Adams from Sheep Lake

As the sun slowly sank behind some clouds, the alpine glow on Mt. Adams held me transfixed.  Even as the temperature dropped, I soaked in the splendor.  As the glow faded, I watched the stars come out.

Mt Adams at SunsetThe next morning I packed up and continued around the peak. Mid-morning I moved off the trail and up a small hill where I could dry my tent, wet from the morning frost.  As I meditated on the beauty around me, I watched two hikers pass by.  One looked to a long-distant hiker with his long beard, skinny pack and frame.  He asked his companion, “Do you know the name of this mountain here?”  I was shocked that he could hike hundreds of miles and not know the name of most prominent feature for dozens of miles.  Not that the name is critical for appreciation of beauty.  Still some through-hikers seemed so obsessed with their daily mileage goals, that they were oblivious to the wonder around them.

Killen Creek

Killen Creek

Later that morning, after crossing Killen Creek, the PCT took a turn to the norht and I started back down into the forest.  It was a bittersweet moment as I left the beauty of the high alpine meadows.  There are trails that circumnavigates Mt. Adams and I may be adding them to my future hikes.  Even though it is not the highest mountain in Washington, it is still one of the most magical.

Where have you experienced wonder?

Lord Jesus, thank you for the capacity for wonder and awe.

PCT Day 1and 2: Seeing the Forest for the Trees

I confess: I am a biased hiker. The high alpine country above timberline is where I prefer to hike.  The sweeping vista of snow-capped peaks and the dazzling array of alpine flowers strike the sweet spot in my backpacking experience.  I was exposed to this as a young child, making the annual family trek from sea level to ski level on the seventeen mile road from Port Angeles to Hurricane Ridge.  The Olympic Mountains remain spectacular in my humble opinion.

Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park

Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park

 

Start of the trail

Start of the trail

Still to reach timberline, one often needs to hike through timber.  This was the case in August when I hike my third section of the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) in southern Washington.  The trail is aptly named in that it seeks to follow the crest line of the Cascade Mountains of Oregon and Washington.  Often the crest is above tree line, but not always.

For this portion of the PCT I decided to skip the first forty miles as it climbs through the thick forest of the Columbia River Gorge (the border of Washington and Oregon).  I started just south of the Indian Heaven Wilderness where a forest service road crossed the trail.  After my brother Robert snapped my picture, I plunged into the forest.

IMG_20140821_105737_776 (2)

I soon discovered that the wilderness area named Indian Heaven is not my personal vision of heaven.  Though dotted with dozens of small lakes, the trail was all below timberline.  Occasionally the trail climbed a small ridge where one could glimpse some of the distant peaks.  But mostly, for the first two and half days and 35 miles, I walked through a multi-green tunnel.

As I hiked through the forest, I explored my mental bias.  I recognized that forest hiking is part of long distant hiking.  Just as in life, one cannot always choose the surroundings one may prefer.  I also discovered that forest walking is a great place to practice both intercessory prayer and mindfulness.  As I walked I prayed for my family, friends and for my congregation.  I used a simple prayer of compassion.  For example, my prayer for Resurrection Lutheran Church was

May Resurrection be filled with loving kindness.
May Resurrection be filled with peace.
May Resurrection be strong and vibrant
May Resurrection live as children of God.

I would repeat the prayer several dozen times, as I breathed in and out.  A peace and purpose came with the prayer.

IMG_20140822_162010_988I also practiced mindfulness, dwelling in the present moment, experiencing each footfall and each touch of my trekking poles.  I try not to race ahead mentally to when I would reach the high country.  Rather let this moment in the forest be my experience.

It was not easy.   My mind still likes to jump around, bouncing from one habitual thought to the next.  Yet the more I practice, the more I see the reward of simply being in the moment, even when surrounded by a green tunnel.  And truly God is in the forest valley as much as the high country.

I was reminded of Psalm 1 as I hiked:

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers;  but their delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law they meditate day and night.  They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.

An abandoned saddle resting in a trail-side tree

An abandoned saddle resting in a trail-side tree

And if one keeps one’s eyes and mind alert, strange sights can be encountered.   One can imagine all kinds of story on how a saddle ended up in a tree.

 

Lord Jesus, keep me alert to your constant presence.

 

Next, Reaching High Country.

Day One: Walking Wet

The start of a hike has not only a loaded backpack but also plenty of emotions and thoughts: worries that I might have brought too much, too little or the wrong equipment; excitement for the unknown that I will discover or the challenges that I must endure; curiosity as to whom I will meet on the trail or what self-revelation will surface. Eight days and 104 miles proved to be enough time for all kinds of emotions and thoughts to bubble up.

Preparing to kayak with my brother Rob and sister Kris prior to hike

Preparing to kayak with sister Kris and my brother Rob prior to hike

My brother Robert graciously drove me from Seattle to Lake Chelan in Central Washington and accompanied me on the ferry to the far end of the lake. Without the assistance of my awesome brother (and sister Kris) I would not be able to complete many of the mountain backpacks that I have accomplished over the past decade. Gratitude for family was an underlying emotion from the start.

After 2.5 hours the ferry reached the village of Stehekin. The only vehicles in the village have been shipped by barge including the shuttle bus that rattled over 16 miles of dirt roads to High Bridge, mile post 2580 on the Pacific Crest Trail. I quickly picked up my pack and started down the trail.

Full pack at Stehekin

Full pack at Stehekin

Actually it was up the trail, since High Bridge was the lowest elevation (1587 feet above sea level) I would encounter on the trail. I was in a deep river canyon, slowly making my way to the high alpine country I love. After stopping for a trail lunch, I steadily climbed into a forest that was thick with brush in places making it difficult to see the trail at times.

The clouds thickened and a light drizzle began. I considered using my rain gear but decided my own sweat inside the rain jacket would be worse. I hiked on as the drizzle became a steady rain. With the sections of thick brush, clothing was soon soaked. I marched on.

Having grown up in Washington, I knew rain. If one keeps moving, the body stays warm. I was thankful that my recent purchase of a broad rim hat kept the rain off my face and glasses.

Here is a short video of the wet brush, (you may need to use “full screen” to see it.)

I arrived at Cedar Camp at 5:30 pm, ten miles from High Bridge, soaking wet. I set up my tent, changed to drier, warmer clothes and greeted the others camping at this site. I discovered some were from Holden Village, a nearby Lutheran retreat center. I met Ben Stewart, a pastor and professor from Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago. I informed him that a new presiding bishop, Elizabeth Eaton, had been elected at the ELCA Churchwide Assembly the day before.

As I talked with other hikers from Holden, the forest continued to drip with mist and showers.  I was reminded of a phrase that I learn when I had visited Holden years ago, that as Christians “we walk wet.” The phrase was a reminder of our baptism into Christ. Though the water of our baptism may have long evaporated, we are still renew each day by the promises of our baptism, that we are beloved children of God, empowered by the Spirit. That thought warmed me as much as the freeze-dried chicken-and-rice meal I ate. I was “walking wet” in the wonder of God’s creation.

How do you walk wet?

Lord Jesus, thank you for the gifts of creation, family, church and renewal.