PCT Day 153 – Days Like Today

Snoqualmie Pass (mile 2393) to campsite at mile 2408

The thing about days like today is that you don’t get many of them. Even on a trip of this length – or perhaps especially on a trip of this length where one walks many miles of terrain that weekend hikers won’t bother with – you’ll only have a handful of truly spectacular days.

Today was truly spectacular.

We left Snoqualmie pass under drizzling grey skies. Too warm to wear a rain jacket, but too chilly without one so we compromise by hiking really fast. It’s 10am and there was no reason to be on the trail earlier. Why get up early to hike in the rain when you could just as easily not. Actually it is substantially easier to not get up early and hike in the rain. Furthermore, Starman and I are on a schedule of forced leisure. With a wedding on September 1st and only 71 miles between us and where we’ll need to get off to hitch to the venue, there is no need to rush and no advantage to getting there early. So you see, it would have been irresponsible to get up early and hike in the rain, wasteful of a perfect lazy morning.

The first four miles of the day feel like the opening scene to an episode of The X Files. All trees shrouded in mist, with a weak silver sun slicing through like a landing UFO. This is the sort of weather people get anally probed in. Luckily, no alien life forms come for us and soon we can see the clouds breaking apart overhead. Sharp rays of sunshine blast into the understory vaporizing the dew into swirling motes of fog.

Then the entire world explodes.

The sky is a riotously cheerful blue, chock full of the sorts of puffy white clouds Bob Ross would be proud of. An undulating breeze ruffles the tall grass and wild flowers throw their hands in the air as though celebrating the first day of spring. The world is a good natured snow globe of sunshine and warmth shaken by some small child to send hikers and runners streaming past us on the regular. As though everyone has recognized the gift that today is and rushed into the open arms of the mountains to celebrate.

All day we walk and stop, walk and stop as just around the bend another breathtaking vista slides into view. I am strong and the air is cool enough that I don’t sweat as the trail climbs 5,600 feet straight up into the open sky with her bright open face shining down on us. Below the trail pika chirp hypnotic and big wooly marmots whistle to one another. The marmots in this area are larger, with big manes of thick fur around their necks, so different from their California cousins. These northern marmots seem to say to us: enjoy the sun now you furless humans, for winter is on its way bringing snow and cold and dark to these lands. But not today. For today we scamper through the most perfect of days.

Though the marmots warning of coming winter can be felt in other ways. By four in the afternoon we are rounding the bend into camp and already the sun is growing long and warm. Remember when it was light until 10pm? I ask myself, what happened to those endless days? Without the warm haze of smoke the late afternoon sun is all the more apparent, the warmth of evening all the less artificial. And for the first time in a long while we throw the rain fly on the tent as we make camp. Fall is coming says the wind. Winter is coming says the marmot. And so we listen.