PCT Day 7

Start: 1445.4

Stop: 1451.5

Today’s miles: 6.1

Total PCT miles: 70.4

Last night the rain stopped for a couple hours, and I did get up and make myself eat dinner, then I read a bit before falling asleep. I got up, ate breakfast, packed and was on the trail by 6:40, ready to make today a success.

My optimism lasted a few minutes. After I rounded that original corner and hit snow again, I rolled my ankle twice and fell at least 3 times, all before 7:15. I put my microspikes on and lived in them all day. Yesterday, when I thought things looked steep, was a joke. Today. Oh my god. Today.

I saw the first trail junction with a “dirt road” that crisscrosses the PCT multiple times in this area. That road is called “Summit Lake Road.” That road was definitely under snow. I started off following the trail, but when it crossed again with this road I decided to follow it instead, because I was gaining elevation and there was even more snow, so the trail seemed less safe-it was up and down and through trees, at least a road would be clearly easier to follow-just look for the wide path without trees, right? Ha.

It started off that way. And it started off with mostly snow on top of the road and no real “slopes.” I also saw huge bear footprints here, too. And a cute deer! It was exciting! But all of that quickly changed. It turned into huge snow drifts over the road, to where the whole thing was just snowy mountain. Then, as it continued to climb in elevation, it got to the point that I literally couldn’t tell which way it was going. I was constantly checking my GPS, making sure I was on the road, more than half the time I wasn’t.

I’d try to follow it and then come to a steep drop off or a huge climb and have to figure out other ways around it. I was pretty good at powering up the climbs in the snow, though I did fall and slide quite a bit. I got really scared when I’d get to the top of a climb only to realize the trail goes the other way and there is an even scarier descent on this side now to get to the right spot.

I’d find myself on wide open bluffs, covered in snow, slipping and sliding (not in the fun Nicki Minaj kinda way lol), and honestly fearing I’d start sliding down this mountain and not be able to stop. So, while on the “road” and realizing it wanted me to traverse down and back up this valley with no safety net to stop me if I slipped-I started shaking and completely panicking before deciding I needed to backtrack to the trail.

The trail at this point was at a lower elevation than the road. So surely, that has to be safer, at least, that’s what my train of thought was. I backtracked to a place where my GPS said the trail and the road were at the closest point to “bushwhack” through to it. It wasn’t real bushwhacking-it was sliding down hill from one tree well to the next.. I felt more comfortable with the tree wells, because while they were maybe my height deep, I could actually see the ground these trees were attached to. Something solid.

After plenty of palpitations, near tears, and a lot of fear, I hit the “trail” and started following it. I’m some places there were footprints to follow, but it was just as snowy and required constant GPS to stay on track. Some places were just as steep. I would start going up and slip and come back down. I’d be at the top, traversing on a slant and slip and slide far down and have to climb back up. I started making sure my body was always positioned towards a tree well, so if I slipped, I’d at least only go as far as the tree.

Now, I just want you to know, sliding on snow is all fun and games at Stone Mountain’s “Snow Mountain” or whatever-here, in the middle of the wilderness, alone, with not another soul in site and your final resting spot not always being perfectly visible, is absolutely the scariest thing I’ve ever been through. I slid so far the one time, I was going so fast, I truly thought my legs would be broken when I hit the tree. I had enough time sliding to think, “Bend your knees! Bend your knees! Bend your knees! “Ben—“ before I slammed into it, hard. So hard that stuff flew out of my pack and I just sat in that hole, both feet planted into the tree and my entire backside in snow and ice. I was visibly shaking. So badly that when I first attempted to get up and grab my things, I couldn’t.

I laid back, tilting my head to the sky, and wondering why the hell am I doing this?! After some deep breathing and calming myself, still shaky, I got up, put my stuff together, sipped some water, and pushed back up that mountainside. I took a picture of the area I slid from, man I wish it really showed you how steep it actually was. Wheewwww.

Around 2pm, I was on top of another snowy bluff and looking out at the direction the trail was supposed to be taking me. It looked like it was literally on the ridge line, up and down at least 3 big mountain tops. I could see snow everywhere, and minimal trees. I almost started to cry, I was in direct sun, and scared as hell. I called Andrea, praying she’d be able to help calm me down..Which thankfully she did. Just knowing she knew where I was and that she knew I was scared really helped me feel less alone up there.

Once I got down, then back up and over one of the ridge’s humps, I found myself in the middle of two vertical climbs. Mind you, to get to this middle spot, I had to climb down a vertical drop along the trees-as in, limb to limb, otherwise I would have slid down to this embankment that I could see snow breaking off on the right side of.. I was about to start charging up the other side when I realized there was a cornice or snow shelf that looked very close to breaking off where the other footsteps were. And then I saw the little opening on the left side between some manzanita bushes.. it was a wider snow free area than I realized!

I immediately sat down, grateful to be on solid ground. My legs stung from the tiny scrapes and scratches, my ankle throbbed, my heart pounded. I pulled up the app and realized I was going to be on this ridge line for miles.. with the next mile to be reported as “very dangerous right now.” What the hell? And after that mile, I’d still have plenty to go and then I’d have to get over grizzly peak. One report said don’t take the trail, take the “road” because it’s safer. Someone else said take the trail-the road is too steep and dangerous. I was at a loss.

So, I decided to set up camp right there. At 2:30 in the afternoon. The longer I sat there, the more anxious I got. At one point, I think I was hyperventilating. I could literally see both climbs, one back the way I came-terrifying-and one I knew nothing about except it’s apparently worse than what I went through to get here. And THEN I realized I had technically only hiked SIX MILES today. Since 6:40am! My god. All of this struggle and stress and I’ve only gone SIX MILES?!

I was so worked up, I couldn’t eat lunch. Or dinner. Please know, ladies and gents, I do not miss meals. And I physically couldn’t do it. The idea of opening my food bag made me nauseous. I don’t know if that’s because I was thinking I could be getting stuck there for a few more days than I thought or what.. but I couldn’t even force myself to eat some candy. Nothing. And I only had a little over a liter of water left. I didn’t realize I drank so much on my last “sip.”

Also. During my anxiety fits: sitting, standing, pacing, noticing some of those tracks I thought were shoe prints were actually bear prints-and clearly at least one bear also likes to camp right here-I decided to see if I had service and I posted on a Facebook group for the PCT asking for advice. As I’m doing so, I realized my battery pack that usually gets me 6-7 charges only has one charge left. So, I asked for advice and then said I’m turning my phone off until morning to save battery-and did just that.

I laid there staring blankly, watching the sunset, wanting to look up stuff or type up this journal, but knowing I couldn’t turn my phone back on and waste my precious battery life. Then, my overthinking mind went wild. I was picturing going over these peaks and slipping to my death. Or slipping to not my immediate death but my prolonged, I’m stuck in a tree with broken limbs and they can’t find me death, to traversing the steep valley and causing an avalanche and being smothered by snow, to falling into one of these snow holes and never being found again. Yeah. I slept really good. With absolutely no clue what do when I woke up. But also, really thankful for this dry outcropping that let me know I would 100% be safe tonight and I would 100% wake up in the morning. That sole thought was comforting.