Day 146: CANADA!!!
Date: Mon 9/10
Fire Alternate Mileage: 15.8
PCT Start Mile: 2641.2*
PCT End Mile: 2652.6
PCT Mileage for Day: 11.4
Trail to Manning Park Mileage: 8
Total Mileage for Day: 35.2
Total PCT Mileage: NA*
The Highlights: cold and rainy, but a happy finish!
*point at which fire alternate rejoined the PCT
I woke early this morning, mostly wide awake by 3am, but tried to sleep a little longer. It’s so cozy in my sleeping bag…. why would I ever want to leave it!?! But… it was border day! The end of our adventure. The last night on the trail, though we weren’t technically even on the PCT, having camped on the fire alternate.
We had planned to hike out early anyway since it would be a long day, and soon enough we were packing out, our headlamps shining through the dark wet morning at 5:30am. Our shoes squashed through the soggy ground, my rain pants made their character swish-swish-swish as I walked, and the drizzle ticked softly on my hood. Deep in the forest, it was dark, but as we hiked down the trail, I looked high above the trees, watching as the sky slowly changed from the dark blue-black of the early hours to the light blue gray of morning, and finally the dull blue of a rainy day. This was it. Our last day. And despite the less than favorable weather, I soaked it all in.
Hiking through the morning, it actually grew colder for awhile, and between the rain, cold fingers, and some rocky and rooty poorly groomed trail sections, it was hard to find even a time to eat as we walked. I was trying to be positive, but it was a bit more miserable than I wanted our last day to be. Come on, sun! There were no free rides to the border, Washington made us work for every last inch of the trail.
Eventually, the sun would make an appearance during our six mile climb back to the PCT, sticking around for a bit at first, and slowly luring me into taking off my rain gear. The warmth wouldn’t stick around though and, after 16.2 miles on the alternate, we reconnected with the PCT just below Woody Pass, cold winds greeting us back to the trail. I put my rain jacket and gloves back on for warmth.
The remaining climb to Woody Pass along the PCT was brief, and unfortunately most of the surrounding views were shrouded with clouds on this misty day. This isn’t how I want you to end, PCT. I want those beautiful Washington views!
From the top of Woody Pass, other than one other short climb, the remainder of the last 11 miles of the PCT would be downhill to the border. It was so cold and windy that we skipped the idea of stopping for lunch, wanting to keep moving for warmth. After awhile it just made sense to keep moving, foregoing a lunch break until the border.
As we continued our downhill hike, the sun peaked through intermittently. Stay with us, I begged. One more day! I need you! I want to feel my fingers! And my legs! But eventually it would be gray again.
All along our hike toward the border, I thought back on the amazing experience we’d had over the past nearly five months on the trail. I’d been taking this trip down memory lane for nearly all of Washington, actually, and it was surreal to think it was all coming to an end soon. Within three hours… two hours… one hour… it would be over.
Along our hike toward the border, we’d meet hikers heading the other way, heading back south after tagging the border. While some continue into Canada after hitting the border, others can’t or don’t secure the proper permits to continue into Canada, so instead must turn around and hike at least 32 miles back to Hart’s Pass, the first opportunity to hitch. We were beyond happy we’d applied and been approved for the permits, as the hike to the first town in Canada was only 8 miles, far shorter than the day+ trip back to Hart’s Pass.
As we passed the hikers, everyone congratulated each other. We saw some that we knew – like Mateo from Italy, who we had leapfrogged with throughout Northern California and Oregon – and many that we had never met, but we all congratulated each other just the same.
Not far before the border, we approached another one of these hikers who was heading back south after having made it to the border. As we drew closer, Shawn and I stepped off the trail, as it’s hiking etiquette for the downhill hiker to yield to the uphill hiker. She also stepped off the trail. “C’mon,” she waved us through, “go get it!”. She was not the first hiker to step off and let us pass, hikers foregoing etiquette today to give way to those who were on their way to the border; almost there after over 2,650 miles. It was such a small gesture, but it said so much about the trail community. The bonds you form with the other hikers whom you may scarcely know at all. We are all in this together. Here for many different reasons, but marching toward the same goal, or at least the same endpoint. Despite it being a small gesture, as she waved us through, each of us congratulating each other, it choked me up a little bit. We really were almost done. There were so many emotions, it was overwhelming – excitement, relief, pride, and even a tiny bit of sadness, despite the fact that we were ready to be finished.
With a mile to go, Shawn began counting us down. One mile to go (he played a brief snipet of The Final Countdown)… half a mile to go… .4 miles … .2 miles … a couple of short switchbacks… I could see some colorful hiker clothes through the trees…
And then, we were there. After over 2,652 miles of hiking, phenomenal landscapes, amazing experiences, new friends, and a bundle of memories, we were standing at the border. Walking into the small clearing where the border monument stood, the seven other hikers there clapped and cheered for us as we came in, everyone congratulating each other. Four of the guys we knew – Zero, Slo Mo, Scarecrow, and Thomas (not sure of his trail name), having leapfrogged with them throughout much of Washington. They were far faster hikers but also took a lot of breaks, so we managed to see them often. The other three we had never met before. Everyone sat, taking a break to enjoy the accomplishment. It was surreal really, hard to even grasp the finality of it, the full emotion of the moment.
Shawn and I signed into the final trail register and took some pictures before finally taking our lunch break. We also popped open the mini bottles of champagne that we had packed out from Stehekin to celebrate.
Too tired to think of profound things to say.
We stayed at the border around 45 minutes, chatting and laughing with the other hikers, eating our lunch, and taking pictures. It would have been nice to stay longer, but we still had 8 miles to hike to Manning Park and hoped to make as much of it in daylight as possible.
And so, we hefted our packs on, one last time, and hiked into Canada. After having already hiked 27 miles for the day, I’d like to say the hike to Manning Park was all downhill, though the first half of it climbed about 1000 feet before finally descending toward Manning Park.
I can’t lie – for the first part of the hike to Manning Park, I thought about how I didn’t want to hike uphill anymore, but for the remainder of the hike, I thought about our journey. While we had talked to several hikers on the trail that were slowing down in Washington to extend their PCT experience as long as possible, we were not of this mentality. We had immensely enjoyed the trail and the experience, but were also fulfilled and ready to be finished. We also knew that the longer we lingered into September, the more terrible Washington’s weather would become, not something we were keen to stick around for, as the rain and cold becomes draining very quickly.
Along the trail, there is a saying: “the trail provides”. This is true in so many ways, and can be understood in many ways. It’s often meant that when you most need it, the trail provides, be it help from another hiker or a view that gives you the inspiration you need to keep going, or a myriad of other possibilities, the trail provides. It also provided far more adventure, emotion, challenge, and personal growth than we could have ever expected. You start the trail knowing that you are setting out to hike 2,650 miles and you have a very rough superficial understanding of what this really means. Mile by mile, you change and grow, even surprise yourself.
Another hiker that we met along the trail finished a few days before us and posted a somewhat long but really beautiful and encapsulating description of the journey, which I’d like to share here:
We travelled from across the country and the world to chase a dream
We were scared and anxious
We took the first step and kept going
We hiked in sweltering heat
We carried water for endless miles
We dodged scorpions and cactus
We got tired and sore and hurt
We lived in the wild
We were startled by rattle snakes
We climbed snow topped mountains
We crossed rivers swollen from melted snow
We swam in icy lakes
We told jokes and stories
We opened up to one another and bonded
We got soggy and smelly
We were entertained by marmots and harassed by jays
We shared our food and shelter
We yelled at bears
We ate berries until our mouths and hands were stained
We cussed at the trail
We slept under the stars and in the shade of the trees
We started before dawn and ended after dark
We challenged ourselves
We cried
We ate until our bellies hurt
We shared campfires
We learned about ourselves
We watched beautiful sunrises and sunsets
We made new friends and family
We watched summer weather come and go
We trusted complete strangers
We inspired and were inspired
We lost our minds and found ourselves
We carried our lives on our backs and our hearts on our sleeves
We called home for love and support
We got it
We are grateful for each other and for you
We walked from Mexico to Canada
We lived out our dreams
We thank you
You are beautiful
/
Love and gratitude,
Dylan “Pickle” Tonkin
April 26 – Sept 7, 2018
135 days in Heaven on the PCT
@DSTonkin on IG
Personally, I’d replace “harassed by jays” to “eaten alive by mosquitos”, but he otherwise captures a lot of the experiences and emotion of the trail in his piece. This is a lot of what I thought about as I hiked in the final miles to Manning Park. So many trail memories.
After our last eight miles, it was just growing dark as we walked into Manning Park. Tired but happy, our journey concluded.
We are still digesting this experience, and in the coming weeks, I plan to write a couple more posts as we unwind – mentally and physically – from trail life. We’re not sure it’s completely hit us yet that the journey is over. Or maybe it’s just begun…
Signing off from the trail,
Hot Mess & Butters
4.18.18 – 9.10.18
We’d like to thank all of our family and friends for your support through our journey – from visits to care packages to words of encouragement, every gesture meant so much as we made our way up the trail. I’d also like to thank those of you that took the time to read my often long-winded stories, musings, and trail ramblings. At the beginning, I wasn’t sure I’d have the energy to keep up with daily blogs, but retelling our experiences became part of the experience, and I’m grateful for everyone that “tuned in”, so to speak, and cheered us along the way. Thank you.
