PCT Day 167 – Ash and the Mad Baker

Brush Creek (mile 2609) to campsite at approx. PCT mile 2630 on the Holeman Fire Reroute

I wake to find that the rain from the night previous has ceased and that I have developed a hole in the top of my right shoe. Almost done, we’re almost done I think as we pack up under a watery blue sky which is threatening and occasionally delivering rain. Climbing up towards Glacier and then down towards bHarts Pass the wind threatens to blow away my hard won body heat, and nearly succeeds on the descents. Even as the sun reaches it’s zenith overhead the temperatures continue to drop, our only protection is when the trail switches to the leeward side of the ridge. Here the weak sunlight soaks into my dark rain jacket, warming me as I scurry down down down to the road at Harts Pass and our next snack break. As to the rangers warning the weather is changing, the days rapidly growing cooler, and I know that we are almost done. And, somewhat more remarkably, I am ready for us to be done.

On one of these protected ridges I pull over on the trail to let an uphill hiker pass me. He asks if I’m a PCT thru hiker, and when I tell him I am he jokes that he’s the one who should be moving over. The man’s name is Ash and he looks as though his style icon is Johnny Depp a la “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” Ash lives in the quaint town of Winthrop on the eastern side of the Cascades. He was a smoke jumper for 15 years and says he feels partially responsible for the four large fires burning within 50 miles of where we’re currently standing. Going on to elaborate that back in his day the marching orders were to get fires out as quickly as possible, which has lead to unchecked deadfall and undergrowth cluttering. It seems a bit harsh to assume much guilt for his part in what was, at the time, a national mandate. Ash then asks me if I’d like an apple. With our accelerated pace through this section I’m in no short supply of food, however fresh fruit is like gold on the trail and I eagerly accept. From the depths of his old external frame bag he pulls the largest honey crisp apple I have ever seen. I take it gratefully, with nearly numb hands holding the apple as though it were the most precious egg, and thanking him profusely. He says he didn’t know he’d be seeing so many hikers and he wishes he had more to offer. Though of course the apple and conversation is more than appreciated or expected and I tell him as such. I have Starman stow the apple in my bag and we rush down the hill, all the more eager now for our snack break.

However, Ash is not to be the last kind stranger of the day. At Harts Pass we see Beehive, Spice Man, Crain Nip, Feather, and Slug sitting in lawn chairs wrapped in blankets. Trail magic! Twice in one day! This time at the hands of a man who I come to know only as The Mad Baker. A smiling giant of a man who lounges near his bright blue truck in shorts and a zip up cotton hoodie while chatting to the gathered hikers—all of us decked out in puffy jackets and clutching the provided blankets like lifejackets. He has sodas, candy, a miscellaneous supply of snack foods, and my absolute favorite – V8. I sit contentedly and listen to The Mad Baker talk about the places he’s done trail magic this year. Starting at Crater Lake and working his way north, having met some of the hikers present multiple times. It is how he’s choosing to spend his retirement. What a treasure. What an absolute kindness.

When I can no longer pretend that I am not shivering, and the sun has made a valiant effort at chasing away the clouds, we pack up to leave. Climbing along a sun drenched hill ripe with fall colors, and passing into the Pasayten Wilderness—the last wilderness of the whole hike. Standing atop the ridge in the clear bright blue center of a donut with dark clouds on all sides, a rainbow greets us as we drop into the next valley. A real deal bona fide rainbow, I can hardly believe it. Spanning from wall to wall right across the trail, welcoming us onwards. Welcome to the home stretch it seems to say, and in thinking about that, about the home stretch, well I can hardly believe that either.