Cloud Peak and Bighorn Mountains Backpack, 9-13-86

This hike took place while I was working in Pierre, SD for South Dakota Department of Water and Natural Resources. I had met Craig at the Homestake Mine in SD’s Black Hills in 1982 while I working as a graduate student on my MS thesis, and he was working as a mine geologist. We had kept in touch, and did some hiking together after I moved to Pierre. The Black Hills are a wonderful place to hike, but lack the high alpine areas of the higher ranges in the Rocky Mountains. But just few hours drive to the west is the Bighorn Range. At the heart of the Bighorns is the 189,000 acre Cloud Peak Wilderness with 13,000 foot peaks, high mountain lakes, and fantastic alpine scenery.

But as much as the Bighorn Mountains overshadow the Black Hills, the Bighorns are overlooked in their home state. It’s tough to compete in Wyoming with world class destinations like Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks, or the nearly 100 mile long Wind River Range.

I’d already made one long trip to the Winds, and was hoping that our trip to the Bighorns could provide that same euphoria of high peaks, alpine lakes, and remote wilderness. The Bighorns delivered. Over the seven years that I lived in South Dakota, I made 13 trips to the Bighorns, and visited most of the heart of the range accessible to non-technical climbers. And when it came time for Jean and I to go on long trips together in the mountains, the Bighorns was one of the first places we visited. (1999 Bighorns)

For our first visit, our goal was to hike a partly off trail loop described in the trail guide by Melius through the heart of the southern half of the wilderness, and to climb Cloud Peak, the high point of the range.

Medicine Cabin Park.

9-13-86 Hunters Corral to Seven Brothers Lake, 7 miles

We left Lead at 8AM and got to the Hunters Corral Trailhead on the east side of the Bighorns NF at 12:45 with a stop in Spearfish for breakfast, and one in Buffalo for lunch. There were four cars and a group of horse packers at the trailhead, but we only saw one day hiker on the trail.

We lumbered out with heavy packs, guessed to be in the 60 lbs. range. The weather was ideal, I hiked in shorts all day. I felt good, no sore spots and was not as tired as I expected. Despite our faith in the guidebook, I found two small errors in the description of the trail junctions. The trails were in good shape. The first three miles were on old road through Buffalo Park, and the last four miles on Trail 45 into Seven Brothers Lake were rocky. Our sky clouded over in the afternoon, but the air warmed just after sunset.

Craig was a little more pooped than I, but he had a very heavy pack and wasn’t used to carrying it. He had only been on two overnight hikes, so this trip would be a lot different for him. I wasn’t sure what to tell him to bring, as I really didn’t know what our conditions would be.

It was cold by the time we set up camp. There was one other party at Seven Brothers. Craig had a new 3-man $50- tent from target that we used the first night. I had my clip flashlight as a backup. My stove was working poorly, but a hot meal wasn’t on the menu. Cantaloupe were in season, and Craig had brought several. I was shocked, it was hard to imagine carrying anything with a higher weight to nourishment ratio. I was embarrassed that I hadn’t helped him food shop. We ate as much of the cantaloupe as we could, and hoped the stove would be working well the next day.

After dinner, we took a short stroll to check out the peaks west of us in the Seven Brothers Basin and up towards Frozen Basin. Our route the next day would be the crux of the trip, west over the crest of the range, and without a trail. Snow line looked to be at 10-11,000’, we’d be going higher than that.  Later that night we watched a beautiful thunderstorm to our south that had the consideration to dump its rain elsewhere.

9-14-86, To Mirror Lake, 8.75 miles

We were up at 7 and had broken camp by 8 with temps in the high 30s. It started raining as soon as we left, and I feared we’d be in for a rough day. The rain soon quit, but the clouds were moving so fast it was hard to tell what the weather would bring. We followed an unofficial route south toward Lake Angeline, up and over ridge 10,205’. The route was marked by cairns, and was well described in the Melius guide. We intersected Trail 88 coming in from the North Fork, and followed it to Angeline.

At Lake Angeline we debated trying to climb one of the nearby 12,000 footers, but the weather seemed too unstable to risk an extra summit trip. Our route went north of Angeline up a ridge topped by peak 11,476. It was a tough climb over a long boulder field, but the wind kept us cool. In a major breakthrough I’d convinced Craig to hike in shorts. Now I was nervous he’d get cold, but the exertion kept us both warm enough. It was too cold to linger on 11,476’, so we headed west down the boggy tableland toward the drainage of Middle Tensleep Creek. This high elevation meadow is one of the nicest walks in the range, if you discount the rough footing, and the lack of a trail. It would be especially beautiful during the spring flower bloom. Going downhill it was a chilly walk, even wearing my wool jacket and gloves. Somewhere along the way I broke my watch, by trying to jam it through a tight strap on my pack.

Lower down we followed an unnamed stream until we intersected the trail to Lost Twin Lakes. The campsites at Lost Twin are among the most magnificent in the range. I would stay there twice on later trips, but this time we would pass them by. Once on the trail it was an easy two miles to the west end of Mirror Lake, where we set up camp. After our bushwhacking and boulder hopping, I had some repair to do on my boots. My left boot had sprouted a hole on my Pacific Crest Trail trip in July, and my rubber cement patch needed fixing. The right boot looking likely to fail next. On the upside, my stove (my Svea 123 dating back to the Appalachian Trail) was working well. I needed to clean, fill, and prime it before every use, a ritual I probably should have been doing already. We had the normally heavily used lake to ourselves and enjoyed another warm evening, capped off by a brief slush storm right at dusk.

9-15-86, To Upper Paint Rock Creek, 11 miles

We had a long day planned to put us in place for our climb on Cloud Peak. We again woke to a clear sky, then had another brief thunder and lightning storm. Our weather on this trip was far more erratic that the typical Bighorns summer weather. Summer mornings and evenings are usually clear, but a late afternoon storm arrives almost like clockwork. I guess this was just hint that we were out of the preferred weather window for the alpine part of the Bighorns.

Upper Paint Rock Creek Campsite.

We cooked up oatmeal for breakfast and broke camp in shorts and flannel shirts. We had an easy three mile hike to the West Tensleep Trailhead, spotting two deer along the way. West Tensleep is the usual trailhead for Cloud Peak, and one of the most popular in the range. But we were doing a loop, and had chosen to start at Hunters Corral, as it required the shortest drive. There were two cars at the trailhead. We talked with a guy carrying a movie camera who said he’d tried to climb Cloud Peak the day before, but had a late start and had gotten caught in the storms. He hadn’t gotten back to Lake Helen until dark.

Craig at Lake Helen.

The hike up the West Tensleep Trail is one of the prettiest in the range. First you skirt the shore of West Tensleep Lake, then walk through a series of meadows and open forest. By Lake Helen you are back in the alpine zone and pass Lake Marion before reaching the major junction near the outlet of Mistymoon Lake. Craig and I had lunch at Lake Helen, it was hard to imagine a more scenic spot. The skies were clear, and the wind had calmed so I took off my shirt and bagged some rays. Even though my pack was still huge, and my boots were shot, I felt good and strong. Despite the hole in my boots I’d had dry feet for three whole days(!)

At Mistymoon Lkae.

The rest of the day’s hike was an outstanding trip past a series of mountain lakes, surrounded by alpine peaks, and with Cloud Peak looming above us. This is one of those places where you just can’t stop taking pictures. The weather had seemed to stabilize, so we hoped for the same for our summit day. At Mistymoon we saw two day hikers who were based at West Tensleep, one of who we’d seen the day before.

We passed up camping at Mistymoon for a slightly higher and slightly closer camp at Upper Paint Rock Creek. A friend from work had told me about the spot and it was perfect, with easy water and a screen of scrub trees for a wind break. Dinner was the chicken with noodles flavor of Great Beginnings, which didn’t quite match up to the beef flavor. That night the moon was so bright that it was hard to tell when it got “dark.”

9-16-86, Climb of Cloud Peak, 9.5 miles

By morning it was overcast with some rainy looking clouds, but the weather cleared by the time we started. The route up Cloud Peak was unmarked, but well described in our guidebook. The lower section is easy to follow, but things get tougher once you reach the southeast ridge, where you begin to feel the altitude.

Cairn on the Cloud Peak hike.

After a narrow spot on the ridge at around 12,400’ feet we were above the snow line. It was much harder walking through the snow, but we had great views into the Wilderness Basin and to the southeast. The summit of Cloud Peak is a broad unglaciated plateau, and a bit of a surprise. Though Cloud Peak is the highest in the range, both Black Tooth to the north, and another peak to the NW looked higher. But the views of the rugged range to the north and down to Glacier Lake on the east face are as spectacular as anything in Wyoming.

Wilderness Basin from the southeast ridge of Cloud Peak.

Despite being an avowed peak bagger, only my ascents of the Colorado 14er standbys Grays and Torrey were higher then than Cloud Peak at 13,164’ (and 11,746’ for that matter) on my life list. The Wyoming 13ers are a big contrast to the much better known Colorado 14ers. While the 14ers are almost all walkups, the 13ers are almost all technical climbs, depending on your definitions. The 46 or so 14ers are scattered across a number of rangers while 31 of the 35 or so 13ers are clustered in the center of the Wind River Range. Two other 13ers are solo peaks, the Grand Teton and Francs Peak in the Absorakas. The Bighorns have the last two, Cloud Peak and Black Tooth. Black Tooth and its partner Mt Woolsey are technical climbs which I never attempted. I would eventually climb ten different peaks in the Bighorns including four “12ers” and made one other climb to Cloud Peak to balance out one other failed attempt.

Craig on Cloud Peak with view of Black Tooth and Woolsey.

There was a USGS marker loosely in place at the summit. As we explored around the top, storm clouds began forming, and the temperature began to drop. We cut short our visit and headed down, with me wearing both a wool shirt and sweater after reaching the summit in just a flannel shirt. The walk down was tough as well, but we had better luck following cairns with the advantage of looking down. We spent a little of our time fixing cairns and building a few new ones. Cairns were acceptable route markers in the wilderness at the time. Fortunately, my knees didn’t hurt on the descent, but my ass was sure dragging.

Summit of Cloud Peak.

My right boot held up through the climb, but I expected it to blow out sometime the next day. I was very sore after the climb, probably as much from the descent. We’d done a shorter distance without our packs vs. the first three days, but I guess the climb made a big difference.

Glacier Lake from Cloud Peak.

Back in camp we split the last of our supply of Old Granddad, which went straight to our heads. We had about 16 easy miles to cover over the next two days, which would be a great walk if the weather held.  After dinner we walked to a small lake about ¾ of a mile to the east. Prior campers had left a frisbee and waterbag, so we cleaned those up. The lake was too pretty let it be trashed. The evening did its usual warm up, which we spent by playing frisbee by the alluvial fan near the falls.

Craig descending Cloud Peak.

9-17-86, Hunters Corral via Florence Pass and Soldier Park, 15.2 miles

This was probably our coldest night of the trip with frost and frozen water bottles. We cooked another breakfast of oatmeal, and hit the trail wearing all our clothes. But the hiking warmed us up and by Mistymoon Lake I’d stripped down to shorts. Craig said he had found some nice campsites just to the west of the lake and the junction with the Solitude Trail, but Mistymoon just looked too cold for camping to me.

We had another beautiful hike from Mistymoon to Florence Pass. The climbing was easy, and there was not much wind at the pass. Lake Florence was too rocky to have camp spots. From the pass we descended down the very steep valley of North Clear Creek. The upper valley was just one long avalanche chute. There was no way I would go up in there during winter. The Solitude Trail was in great shape. A crew had taken the time to build a great trail tread through what was essentially a long boulder field.

Upper Paint Rock Falls.

We soon arrived in Medicine Cabin Park, probably the most scenic valley in the Bighorns. The long valley was probably once a lake, but long ago filled in with sediment. We had great views back to Bomber Mountain and the Mather Peaks to the southwest. Most of the rest of the hike out was through the woods, with a few small, open parks. We saw a group of four out hunting elk, but we did not imagine they would have much luck. 

Florence Pass.

We left the Solitude Trail for #24, which was also in good shape, and passed north of the Seven Brothers. By the time we reached Soldier Park we were close enough to the trailhead that we decided to hike all the way out and drive into Buffalo. It was early enough that there didn’t seem to be any reason to camp three miles from the trailhead. I felt a little guilty about not staying out the entire week, but I could tell Craig also wanted to head in.

Map of 1986 and 1999 Bighorns trail loops.

We ended up staying in Buffalo with the plan for day hiking the next day if the weather held, or to go back to Lead if it did not. The next day brought heavy rain, so we drove back to the Black Hills with a stop at Devils Tower to hike the Red Beds Trail and the Prairie Dog Town loop, and hiked up Harney Peak the following day.

Pacific Crest Trail Backpack, Alpine Lakes Wilderness, WA, 6-29-86

6-27-86, Travel Day

I flew from Pierre SD to Seattle via Minneapolis and stayed with Dave Pollack.

6-28-86, Gear Day

Buddy flew in at 11AM and was picked up by Steve Palmer (who I knew from our 1984 Wind Rivers Trip). Dave and I met Buddy and Steve for lunch, then the four of us went to REI to rent a tent and buy some maps. I used the PCT OR-WA guidebook and both the USFS map and a more detailed wilderness topo. Steve and Buddy then went to Steve’s Place in Tacoma, while Dave and I went to a birthday party for a friend of his.

Our goal for this trip was to hike the Alpine Lakes Wilderness section of the Pacific Crest Trail from I-80 at Snoqualamie Pass north to US 2 at Stevens Pass. This hike was much earlier in the year than our usual summer vacation, and consequently worry about the weather was a constant theme for the trip.

6-29-86, Ridge Lake 7.4 miles

Steve and Buddy picked me up at Dave’s, and we got to Snoqualamie Pass at 1PM. Most of the drive up was under gray skies and a light drizzle. Luckily for us the rain stopped soon after we started hiking. Initially, we followed a forested trail up a ridge that reminded me a lot of the West Cascades in Oregon. We had a steady 2,000’ climb, but the trail was so well graded that we still made good time. My pack felt heavy, but I didn’t tire out as fast as I’d thought I would. 

Buddy, HR, and Steve

The last 2 ½ miles was mostly along an open ridge with small remnant snowfields. Some of the trail was simply blasted out of the side of the mountain. Unfortunately, about the time we made the ridge, the skies clouded over, and we lost any views. We camped near the outlet of Ridge Lake which had few campsites, and most of those were wet. With a breeze and clouds it didn’t take long before I’d put all my clothing on. We guessed the temperature at 45F.

Steve brought BBQ chicken and potato salad, so dinner was more like a picnic than a camping trip. We added two Guinness stouts to the meal. Our rental tent was a Jansport Lhasa Hotel. The first night we pitched it with the fly on backwards, but otherwise we were really impressed with the tent. We huddled in the tent after dinner, hoping that it would be warmer the rest of the trip. I’d been afraid we would be hiking in the midst of bug season, but so far it had been too cold for insects.

Steve would leave the next day to return to Tacoma, but I was glad he’d been able to join us for the start. Our next day had the potential of being the best of the trip, with open country most of the way, but also could be our worst day if the weather turned bad.

6-30-86, Spectacle Lake, 10.8 miles

Steve hiked with us out to Huckleberry Pass, where he turned back to his car. He’s got his own trip to California coming up and wasn’t able to come for the full week. We got up around 7 to clear skies and warmer temps. The walk was beautiful, we had views of Mt Ranier almost all the way, and we saw Mt Baker from Needles Eye Pass. The trail was carved into a steep slide slope above a basin that opened directly in line with Ranier. The trail building was impressive, much of it carved into steep, hard to hold slopes. The builders used a lot of switchbacks and have kept the route extremely scenic.  

Buddy, Steve & HR looking towards Mt Ranier.

We stopped for lunch above Park Lakes. I had three fruit bars, which didn’t fill me up at all. I’ve been snaking nonstop so far. My hips and shoulders have been sore from the weight of the pack (my old Kelty Tioga external frame). The middle backband is loose, so more of the weight has been on my hips. I can’t tighten the band without loosening a grommet, so I left it as is.

The afternoon walk was mostly downhill on switchbacks. We were the only ones camped that night at Spectacle Lake. We had seen no one else on the trail. I think the poor weather had won out over the popularity of this section. We washed up by the lake, but it was too cold to swim. Ridge Lake was frozen over the previous night. Evening was cloudy with a slight breeze and no bugs. 

Crossing a small snowfield.

I thought my soreness was from being unused to carrying a pack. I’d had some short trips the year before, but nothing longer than three days. Buddy seemed to be in about the same shape. I hoped I’d feel better as I ate more of my food.

The Pacific Crest Trail, Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

7-1-86, Waptus River, 18 miles

If the word for the day yesterday was beauty, the word for this day was switchback. We saw a hell of a lot of them on both sides of Delato Valley and on our last descent to the Waptus River. I had slept like a rock and finally crawled out of the day to a nice warm morning. Then it was downhill forest walking to Delato Creek followed by the climb to Escondido Ridge. With great trail we were up on the ridge for a 1 PM lunch. There was a good campsite and bridge just before the second trail junction. But, we decided to try for the Waptus River, since there likely would not be any good campsites 12-18 miles out from Spectacle Lake. 

With Buddy on the Alpine Lakes PCT.

We passed a pretty little alpine area that was mostly snowed in, and then the next three miles were similar to the prior day. We passed two forlorn looking southbound hikers. Most of the way to Waptus River we walked in a light drizzle. I put on my new Gore-Tex raincoat, and was fine until we hit a brushy section and my feet got soaked. Wet feet at the end of a long day weren’t fun and I was thrilled to finally see the river. We found a nice campsite just past the bridge and basically collapsed. 

View north to Mt Ranier.

Our 18 miles was likely the farthest we’d backpacked in a day since 1978’s Northville-lake Placid Trail hike, and potentially the last time we ever went that far with packs again. We both had wanted to see if we could still hike that far, I guess the answer was just barely. I also wanted to see how I’d hold up after a weeklong trip, our last had been 1984 in the Wind River Range (1984 Wind Rivers).

The tent was up, and dinner cooked in 45 minutes. We moved faster at the campsite that we had on the trail. Some of our efficiency comes from having hiked so much together. We knew how tired we were, and how that makes it more important to operate efficiently. We were able to plan out our campsites for the rest of the trip, something that’s easy given the level of detail in the PCT guidebooks.

I was less sore at the end of the day, but was now sure I’d have enough food for the entire week. Somehow I’m more relaxed when main concerns are food, weather, my feet, and where to hike the next day.

7-2-86, Peggys Pond, 11.4 miles

We woke up to another cloudy morning, but at least there was no rain as we broke camp. Both of us had survived the long hike the day before, but we decided to play it safe taking the low route around the Waptus River instead of following the PCT to avoid a potentially high water crossing. We didn’t get any god lake views until crossing the Spade Creek Trail, but there were lots of nice campsites and only one other tent.

We got a bit confused about the trail at a horse camp near the east end of the lake. I felt really good and smoked the climb up to Deep Lake. There was one small creek ford before Deep Lake which we both did barefoot. Boy, that water was cold! Unfortunately, it rained for the entire climb, and we were soaked on arrival. Another hiker at Deep Lake told us that he’d been forced to take the Cle Elum Valley route because one of the streams on the upper route was impassable. We’d go that way the next day, so we had some decisions to make.

The skies cleared after lunch, and we got a little sun on the side trail to Peggys Pond. After the well maintained PCT the side trail seemed overgrown, and looked like just an old path. Just before the lake the trail passed an old cabin on a small knob. We decided to camp by the cabin, there were no good spots at the lake. However, both the pond basin and the surrounding valley were still full of snow. The cabin was a curiosity, too long a walk in for a hunting cabin. But the builder sure picked a scenic spot.

At our stream crossing I discovered a hole in the toe of my left boot. I was pissed for two reasons; first that my foot would likely be wet the rest of the trip, and then in general at the poor durability of that pair. The boots were probably not repairable, but I dreaded the thought of having to buy a new pair. (The boots were likely a type of leather/fabric hybrid, and I would eventually replace them with far more reliable all leather Vasque Sundowners.)

Since we were about midway, I did an inventory on my food and meal planning. I looked set for the rest of the trip. And, since we hadn’t planned on Steve coming along for night one (and he brought dinner), we had an extra meal.

7-3-86, Deception Lakes, 14 miles

I woke up in the morning to a strange scratching sound on the tent. I peeked out and was surprised to find it snowing, not too hard but with big flakes. I went back to sleep for a bit, but it was still snowing when we left camp. I left wearing shorts, with my gloves and wool and Gore-Tex jackets. Dressed that lightly I really needed to hustle on the hike out of Peggys Pond just to stay warm.

We had a brief discussion at Cathedral Pass, and decided to take the bypass trail along the Cle Elum River valley. I think I was the conservative one favoring the valley route, while Buddy wanted to stay high on the main PCT. I was too cold to want to face another rough crossing.

Near Squaw Lake the snow quit. There we met some people who had hiked in the previous day and camped with the plan to hike up Mt Daniel. It didn’t seem like a good day for a climb, but it wasn’t really a good day for a hike either. One good thing about the bypass was that I got to use the toilet at the Skeeter Pass Trailhead. Not quite indoor plumbing, but a step up from the woods. There were 5-6 cars at the trailhead and some horse trailers, but the only other group we saw was camped right at the trailhead.

We had a nice walk up the valley to Little Hya Lake, then had lunch at Deception Pass. The rain was intermittent the rest of the day, but my Gore-Tex was keeping me reasonably dry. I decided the only negative about the trail was the crossing of old burn areas. These had a lot of underbrush, which got my feet wet from the water running down my legs. I was able to cook dinner during a rare break in the rain. Ramen Snowbank Surprise had two packets of Ramen noodles, a can of chicken, a can of Great Beginnings, minute rice, and bullion.

We got another surprise after dinner, more snow! By now we were worried it might begin to accumulate and make the next day’s walk miserable. We had only a ten miler planned, and hoped to spend some time at Glacier Lake. There was supposed to be a lean to there where we might be able to dry off over lunch. I was surprised by all the snow. I didn’t think it would be cold enough this late in the year.

Later in the evening I took a trip out of the tent, and could see the snow line was only 100 feet or so above us. I could see snow on all the trees, except those closest to the lake shore. There was also snow on the huge ridge above the northeast side of the lake. The temperature was already about 40F, and I feared for another cold morning.

7-4-86, Mig Lake, 9.7 miles

We woke up again to another hard snow. Sometime in the night the snow had begun to stick and covered the tent. We were very happy with the rental tent it had been keeping us dry, and had a big enough vestibule to allow us to cook under cover. The tent was a little heavy, but had enough room for two people, plus our packs. We used the vestibule to cook in bed, hoping to wait out the snowstorm. I had some oatmeal I’d saved for hot breakfast days.

I started the walk in my wool pants, and wore them all day as it never really warmed up. At my warmest, I could unzip my wool jacket. The back side of Pieper Pass had a lot of snow, and it was especially hard to read the old snow when it was covered with an inch or so of the new snow. We were cold and wet enough that our only stop of the day was at the Trap Lake Trail junction. Trap and Pieper passes were the two highest points along this section of the PCT, not the places I wanted to be in perfect hypothermia conditions. We were seeing a lot of deer tracks in the snow, but no sign of other (smarter) people. The terrain looked very open, and it seemed we were missing out on some great scenery. Somewhere by Hope Lake we passed out of the granitic batholith we’d been traversing, and into a terrain of mostly gneiss.

After Trap Pass it rained most of the rest of the way to our camp at Mig Lake. Just before dinner we had some visitors, three folks from Seattle out for the weekend. They had gotten drizzle, but no snow, all the way in from Stevens Pass (our destination for the next day). We saw a few patches of blue sky, but otherwise our weather was unchanged from the last three days. The sky would lighten up during the day, then we’d get rain or snow, and which would turn to drizzle before the cycle would repeat. But this evening was especially warm, and good weather for camping.

Route map for PCT Alpine Lakes Wilderness, 1986.

7-5-86 to Stevens Pass, 7.5 miles

For our final morning we avoided the rain and snow. It was still cloudy and foggy, but still much nicer than what we’d awoken to the last few days. We had another oatmeal in bed breakfast. The warm food and thoughts of cold beer awaiting were enough to launch us down the trail. Cold, wet feet be damned.

We were slowed down by one steep switched backed section but made good time to Lake Susan James where we stopped for a snack break. We even got some vistas as the skies cleared across the valley by Lake Josephine. Josephine was a deep, pretty lake, and I wished we had pushed on the day before to camp there. We saw one group camped at the lake and a family of day hikers, all the people we would see before Stevens Pass. The rest of the hike was mundane, with a big powerline cut before reaching the pass. From the signs, it looked like the PCT was used for cross-country skiing in the winter, and it looked like fun terrain for it. Closer to the highway we walked the edge of a clear cut that was as planned to eventually engulf the PCT.

At the pass we found a phone and left a message for Dave in Seattle. It took him a bit to get away and make the drive. We used the time to dry the tent out before we had to return it to REI. Dave arrived wearing shorts and told us that Thursday and Friday had been rainy in Seattle, but they’d had good weather the rest of the week. Oh well, I guess that’s the Cascades for you.

My notes stop with the pickup at Stevens Pass, but I remember that Buddy and I spent the night as guests of Dave and his wife before I flew back home to Pierre, SD on Sunday. We had totaled 79.3 miles for seven days of backpacking, including side trips to campsites and the two sections of the PCT we had bypassed.