Scott and Rachel's Pacific Crest Trail thru-hike journal: White Pass, Mile 2298, Aug 31

Stealth Camp near White Pass - Roger, Bonnie and Lara treated us like royalty. They fed us like it was the last supper, trying to outdo each other on the best steak, four choices for dessert, and so on. They had read our journal in the past and realized that we were likely to eat a lot so they made sure that we would not go hungry, and we didn't. We had access to their desk top computer and they left us be for a few hours so that we could get done with our computer needs (journaling, replying to emails and checking on our finances). When Roger and Lara returned they fixed us hamburgers for dinner and enabled us the opportunity to meet another of our faithful readers who has been following with our journal. John came by the house and spent an hour or two with us and it was really neat to get to meet another person whom we have been corresponding with via email. After dinner we sat around a chatted more about the PCT and what is involved in preparing for such an undertaking and it was after 11 PM before we retired to bed.

We awoke to the sound of the watch alarm going off at 6 AM. We were tired, groggy and wanting for nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep again but we needed to get back out to Cascade Locks for the opening of the Post Office at 8:30 AM and Roger had an appointment at 9 AM back in town. We got up and dressed and then loaded our packs back into the car and climbed inside for the 40 mile drive back out to Cascade Locks. We arrived in town shortly after 7 AM and Roger and Lara dropped us off at the grocery store so that we could pick up our few basic lunch items before the Post Office opened in another hour. We said warm good byes to our very gracious hosts and told them that when the thru-hike the PCT they have a place to stay once they arrive at the northern terminus.

We went into the grocery store to purchase the few items that we needed and by the time we were done we still had another 50 minutes to wait before the Post Office opened. We headed next door to the cafe for breakfast while we waited and filled up on three eggs, sausage, a whole whack of hash browns, toast and caffeinated beverages before crossing the street to the P.O. minutes after it opened. By the time we arrived a crowd had already gathered. Don and Leslie were already inside, as was T and another segment hiker, and then Greg and Jenny came in right on our heels. It was a very warm reunion for us to see Don and Leslie again as we had been hoping to catch up to them all the way through the state of Oregon but they had managed to stay a few miles ahead of us. We all grabbed our boxes and then walked up the block to the Best Western where everyone had rooms and we would be able to sort through our supply box in comfort. An hour later we were finally ready to go but we hung around a little longer chat ting with Don and Leslie and all the other thru-hikers before heading out to start our day on the trail.

The big question of the day was whether or not to take the alternate route. The authors of the guidebook recommend the alternate route because it is more direct, cuts 21 unnecessary miles of the section, and avoids many hills that really gain nothing (the official route leaves the Columbia River, "climbs 3300 feet to a ridge, drops 2000 feet to Rock Creek, climbs 1700 to Sedum Ridge, drops 2200 feet to Trout Creek, and then climbs and drops hundreds of feet as it rolls east to Road 65" where the alternate route meets it, 700 feet higher than at the crossing of the Columbia). We had looked at the options the night before and were swaying towards the recommended road route, but the idea of hiking on the road for 14 miles as not exactly desirable either. Once we were back in Cascade Locks and had met up with a number of other hikers we put the question to them but we found that people either hadn't considered it yet or they were wavering like we were. We finally made our decision; we would take the recommended, shorter alternate road route. It may be a long 14 miles, but it made more sense than the roundabout, hilly 35. We left the Best Western and headed out and across the road to climb the stairs to The Bridge of the Gods and with each step our knees ached and groaned under the weight of our packs making us feel better that we had opted for the more direct, less hilly route option.

We had read in the guidebook that The Bridge of the Gods is a toll bridge, even for pedestrians, and that in the year 2000 the toll had been as much as $0.50. Scott was absolutely disgusted at the idea of paying a toll to walk across a bridge and kept making wise cracks that in the spirit of hiking the PCT he would refuse to pay the toll and would ford the river instead; after all, he would say, it may be wide but he has heard it's not all that deep. We approached the toll booth and saw the sign indicating what the toll was for cars, vans, trucks and multi-axle vehicles, but there was no notation of how much pedestrians had to pay. We asked the guy in the booth and when we confirmed for him that we were PCT Thru-hikers he waved us on past. Rachel was much relieved because she wasn't in the mood to change into her sandals and brave the cold water.

The bridge had no shoulder for pedestrian traffic so we had to walk across on the vehicle deck, but the deck wasn't solid pavement, but instead it was a wide steel mesh grid with holes about the size of a clenched fist. The holes were spaced so that our feet were fully supported and it wasn't possible to step into one of them, but nonetheless, at any given time our feet were resting on three or four slats of the steel grid. To gaze across the length of the bridge it didn't look like much, but when we looked down we were seeing through the gaps right down to the Columbia River below.

It was a momentous moment when we finished walking across the bridge and we stepped foot onto Washington soil for the first time in many months. The moment of bliss and glory didn't last long, however, as we soon turned along Highway 14 towards Stevenson. The highway was a little busier than we had hoped it would be and we had cars and trucks zooming by us at about 60 mph. We walked towards the oncoming traffic after a couple of trucks came a little close and we braced ourselves for a long road walk.

It was 2.7 miles from The Bridge of the Gods to Stevenson and by the time we arrived there we were ready for a break. We stopped off in the pharmacy to purchase some new cushioned insoles for our shoes that are wearing a little thin and we also got some more sports tape for Scott so he can wrap his feet to protect from blisters. With our newly acquired items put to use we began the rest of the walk towards Panther Creek Campground where we would rejoin with the PCT. Surprisingly that next leg of the walk went quite quickly. We were only on Highway 14 for another few miles before we turned off onto the much quieter Wind River Road. We passed by the quaint community of Carson and then almost missed Stabler as we passed through it because we blinked. When we arrived at Panther Creek Campground we stopped for something to eat and then contemplated calling it a day and stopping in one of the comfortable campsites, but instead we decided to push on.

Leaving Panther Creek Campground we were faced with a steady climb back up to 4000 feet. The going was slow in the afternoon mugginess, but we persevered, groaning under the weight of our restocked packs. There was very little scenery to be enjoyed on that long climb as we were in the trees, only occasionally poking out onto a ridge or saddle. We did get a distant look at Mt. Hood behind us, but as has been the case lately, her head was shrouded in the clouds. Mt Adams, to the northeast was similarly obscured, but we were surprised to not how much closer we are to her than when we last got a look at her before descending into Eagle Creek Canyon a few days ago.

We were shooting for a spring about 10 miles past Panther Creek, but when we got in the proximity of it we began to worry about whether or not it would be running. We had passed by a spur trail leading 0.3 of a mile off trail to a creek some three miles back and we hiking back that far was not an option should we fail to find the spring. It was supposed to be in a gully, but we passed gully after gully as we were looking for it and each of them were dry. Just as we were really starting to get concerned we came across a spur trail with a wood carved sign hanging near by it that said "Water". Relieved, we followed the spur trail down the slope for 50 yards until we came across a campsite clearing. While Rachel went about pitching the tent and setting up camp Scott went off in search of the spring. A little past the camp clearing, down in the gully, he found it running and filled our water bladders for our camp needs.

Our late nights in Portland must have tired us out more than we thought because by the time we were done with our camp chores and ready for foot rubs we were exhausted. We rubbed each others feet and just about dozed of while doing so and then eventually rousted ourselves up enough to turn back around and settle down for long awaited sleep.

Scott woke up in the morning after a restless nights sleep. It had been muggy and warm and he had spent much of the night tossing and turning. He woke Rachel and tried to get her moving, but that was like trying to wake the dead. Eventually she did stir a little and then finally crawled out of her sleeping bag, but it was after much complaint and moaning that she was exhausted and wanted more sleep (in actual fact, that continued on for much of the day). By the time we loaded our packs onto our backs and ventured back towards the trail it was 6:45 AM, a relatively late start to the day.

The morning began with more hiking through the trees. We made our along the crest, climbing little bits and then dropping back down again. While we were staying within much the same elevation range, it was noteworthy that there seemed to be remarkably little flat trail. We had been forewarned that the terrain would get tougher again in Washington, but we weren't expecting to notice it so soon. While the terrain was getting a little tougher than what we had been accustomed to in Oregon, the tread was proving to be far superior. Being that we were in the trees we had been walking on nice soft forest duff the whole way since Panther Creek Campground. There was no dust and we had encountered very few rocky spots as well.

We stopped for breakfast at Crest Campground, about 5 miles into the mornings hike. We ate off the picnic table made from raw logs and then prepared for a 1600 foot climb. We climbed past a couple of lakes that were more like stagnant mud puddles and continued our way up through the trees until we approached a set of larger lakes that had very inviting campsites along their shores. We stopped for a break at one such site and wished that we could set up camp and spend the rest of the day relaxing on the shores of the lake. But, after a short break and refill of water bottles it was time to press on, so that we did. As we made our way through the area we crossed paths with a couple of day hikers, all amazed that we were doing the full hike, but we were envious of their leisurely pace and relaxed mood. A couple more lakes later, and a lunch stop, we neared Indian Heaven meadows area where blueberries could be harvested in the bushel full and there were many day hikers and mid-week campers out doing just that. A little before we reached the meadow area we encountered Kelly, a thru-hiker whom we had met very briefly in Seiad Valley. She had come up behind us after leaving Cascade Locks a day ahead to do the official PCT route. We exchanged news on who was ahead and who was behind, and then we carried on while she stopped to make herself dinner.

The final 5 mile push to camp, through the meadows and beyond, were tough going. For some reason the going was really slow. When we left our lunch spot we have just over 10 miles to go, but here we were, getting late in the afternoon and we were still miles short. We kept plodding along, passing another boy scout troop out getting their 50 mile patch, and finally we made it to Road 885; camp would be just around the bend. We passed over a small, trickling creek and then, a couple hundred yards later, came to the much larger outlet creek to Big Mosquito Lake. We had been planning on getting our camp water at this outlet creek, but when we got there we were disgusted at the murky color of the water, the film on the surface, and the odor so we kept going, hoping to find something better. What we found instead was the campsite, already occupied by another thru-hiker, Porno (where do they get their trail names?!) whom we had never met before, and his buddy who has joined him for the state of Washington. While there was enough room for us to pitch, there were no level spots large enough, unless we wanted to camp right on top of them. We wandered away from the site a little and found an old, overgrown road where we managed to clear away some of the branches and pitched the tent. It was a little cramped, but once inside our tent it didn't matter much anyway.

The following morning we were up and on the trail before there was life from either Porno's tent or Kelly's (she pulled in shortly after we did). We made our way back to the trail and then through the tunnel of trees meandering along until we arrived at a Tupper Creek where we stopped for breakfast. We had picked up some granola out of the hiker box which we have been supplementing our cold oatmeal with and we have been enjoying it very much.

After our tasty breakfast we were back on the trail without too much delay. At one point we came to a road crossing and while we were standing there consulting the map a car pulled up along side us. It happened to be the day hikers whom we had met on the trail the previous day; they were headed back to the Seattle area and wanted to stop and offer us a ride. Of coarse they weren't expecting us to take them up on their offer, and we didn't, but they don't really have any idea just how tempting their offer was - especially for Rachel.

A little further along we started a big climb up into the Mt. Adams Wilderness were we would begin our traverse around the western side of the mountain. We stopped at a small creek shortly into the climb to recharge our batteries with lunch (which has also gotten better this last leg as Roger, Lara and Bonnie gave us a stick of Dry Salami to bring with us - that is something that we haven't had the luxury of since very early on in the trip). After lunch it was back to the hot sweaty climb that went on for about 5 miles. Most of the time we were under the cover of trees, which helped with the temperature, but it meant that we didn't get too many views of Mt. Adams ahead. At last we pulled out the trees at the junction with "Around the Mountain Trail" and there she was in front of us with all of her majestic beauty. Kelly came up the trail behind us, just in time to take our picture for us before we ventured on.

We still had about 8 miles to go before we would reach our camp location for the night, but surprisingly they were the easiest miles that we have seen since entering Washington. Unlike Mt. Hood, the traverse around Mt. Adams was incredibly level. While we did gain and lose a little elevation, it was generally within a couple hundred feet and nicely graded. We began our traverse on the south-west corner of the mountain and soon found ourselves making our way on the west flanks and then the north-west ones. It was incredible to watch our perspective of the mountain change so rapidly, and we watched as Avalanche Glacier disappeared behind us, Pinnacle Glacier appeared on our left, and then finally the intimidating Adams Glacier became visible. We crossed a few trickling tributaries and creeks before arriving at the difficult ford of the milky Lewis River. We found a small log bridging the gap between two rocky outcrops and decided that it would be our best bet unless we wanted to change into our sandals to ford the rushing, turbulent, milk colored water. Scott approached the log first and very cautiously stepped onto it. He inched his way along and at one point it looked like he was about to take a tumble but he managed to correct his balance and make it safely to the other side. Rachel thought that she would try the crossing as a "one-two and jump", but in order to do so she had to space her feet well across the log. She got the first one planted and then as she went to reach out and place the second foot down she just about fell in. Hopping back to the safety of the rock behind her she reconsidered her plan and fully extended her trekking pole to provide her will a little added balance before she attempted the crossing again. The second attempt was successful but then we were faced with a series of smaller boulder hopping crossings of the same creek as it spread around the many rock islands before finally reaching the other side thirty yards away.

With the excitement of the river crossing behind us, we continued on up the trail and shortly ran into two thru-hikers heading southbound. Friendly Bear and Easy E had made it from Campo to Burney Falls before deciding to flip flop up north so as to take the pressure off their finishing time and making it through the northern Cascades before the snows hit in October. We exchanged news on who is where on the trail and then they told us a little about what is to come. They described the north Cascades as extremely beautiful, the best part of the whole trail so far, and somewhere that they would like to come and explore for a couple of months. Feeling good about what is to come, we bid them a farewell and then pressed the remaining 2 miles into camp.

We had been naive enough to hope that we would find the campsite at Killen Creek and it's cascading waterfall unoccupied, so when we got there we were disappointed. While there was another place to camp right by the creek, the view of the cascade was obstructed by a few trees and we could not appreciate it from the serenity of our tent. Nonetheless it was a very pleasant campsite, although a little dusty from overuse, and we settled in for a good evening. We had made it to camp by 6:30 PM and it made a huge difference to how rushed we felt and how much light we had before the night pulled in around us. As we were just finishing up with our dinner, Kelly arrived and pitched in our site with us. We chatted with her as we finished up with our nightly chores and talked about what the trail ahead would hold.

The following morning we started moving just before 6 AM. The shortening of the days is becoming increasingly noticeable as dawn is only just starting to break by that point. We started to pack up in the predawn light, but by the time we were ready to leave camp at 6:35 AM daylight was fully upon us.

We continued northeast along our trek, leaving Mt Adams behind as we made our way through the sub-alpine fir and Lodgepole pine forest, gradually losing elevation. Kelly joined up with us after the first mile or so and the three of us walked together for the next few miles, she enjoying the company and us enjoying someone new to talk to. We stopped at Lava Springs for breakfast and filled up on the incredibly fresh water appearing from underneath the lava flow that stopped abruptly at our feet. With full tummies we continued on towards the end of the Mt. Adams Wilderness and the crossing of a couple roads. The next two-mile segment of trail took us along an old abandoned dirt road that was nothing more than two dust filled tire wells. With every step the dust filled the air around us and Scott cursed. He hadn't put plastic bags over his feet that morning as we had been on such nice duff trails for a few days and now that he had to deal with the dust again he was just imagining what condition his feet would be in by the end of the day if it kept up. Fortunately, after a couple of miles we re-entered forest cover and the trail once again became a soft bed of pine and fir needles.

Leaving the dirt road behind we began a steady climb back up to the crest. We climbed about 500 feet until the grade eased up and we passed by a number of stagnant ponds, complete with the appropriate army of mosquitoes. We were hungry and wanted to stop for lunch but we kept going, hoping to find somewhere with a few less bugs. Another mile further on we passed by Kelly who was stopped in the shade of a few scrawny pine trees for lunch, and then she passed us a shortly after that as we had stopped in a shady spot near the crest to satisfy the grumbling in our stomachs.

After finishing up with our lunch we hiked a little ways along the ridgeline until we got to a point overlooking Walupt Lake, 1700 feet below us. Looking out over the lake basin we got an idea for what our afternoon's hike was going to hold for us. We could see the Goat Rocks Wilderness north of us, but the lake was in between and the ridgeline swung a long ways to the east, descending as it went, before finally making it's way north again to approach the dramatic Goat Rocks. We started off down the trail, knowing that there was no easier way to get from A to B.

We passed a couple of day hikers on their way up, and an older couple who were hiking the state of Washington, southbound and then bumped into a couple of segment hikers at a trail junction 5.5 miles further along, just before we started our steady climb up into the Goat Rocks. The segment hikers were getting ready to set up camp at a nearby lake but they were worried about water and had been scouting out the trail ahead. They informed us that it was straight up and they had gone about 1/2 a mile and not found any. Of all the people that we saw along the trail, however, the highlight was seeing three grouse dusting themselves in the middle of the trail. We walked right up to them and stood not more than 5 feet away. The grouse just sat there looking at us. Finally as we realized that they weren't going to leave their dusty hollows in the trail we went to step around them and that was enough to get them up and move off to the side.

The climb up into the Goat Rocks Wilderness was quite a nice one. For the first time in miles we were breaking out of the trees and had a view (for more than a fleeting minute) of the valley below. We looked down over the two ponds near the trail junction we had just left and then a little to the west we saw the much larger Walupt Lake. Ahead of us we could see the trail crossing the drier, exposed slopes as it made it's way across the south facing hillside. Before too long we had left the views of the two ponds and lake behind as we rounded a spur ridge and started more northward. The grade kept on steadily climbing as we made our way further and further into the Walupt Creek canyon across the headwaters and then up the final couple hundred of feet to Sheep Lake.

The lake was nestled in a hollow with meadows around it. We followed a spur trail to the south side of the lake, looking for a campsite, but as we climbed up to a level spot we saw that there were already two tents set up. We looked around the lake and saw what looked like a campsite nestled up in the trees on the far side so we ventured over there. When we arrived we found a lovely site. it was a little further removed from the lake, but as we had our water bladders we would only need to make on trip to the lake for water so it was of little consequence. We thought about pitching our tent out in the open, but then noticed another spot, a small clearing, in amongst the diminutive firs with nice forest duff ground cover. Our tent just fit into the little clearing and while it obscured our views of the lake, we were sheltered from the wind blowing over the ridge.

We had gotten into camp at around 6 PM, a decent hour for once, so we were able to take our time about doing our evening routine. Later on that evening as we were finishing up and getting ready for bed we noticed that the fog was rolling in thick and heavy all around. Being that we were in amongst the trees we were shielded from much of it, but those people down by the lake were getting socked in. While the clouds were a light color, we nonetheless put the fly on the tent just in case it should decide to rain or that the fog moisture should start to drip from the trees above us.

We woke up in the morning to beautiful blue skies above us and a blanket of clouds below. All of the big peaks poked their heads above the clouds so they looked like islands in the sea, but the valleys and basins were lost to us. We packed up our gear and made our way back to the trail and then started to climb further into the Goat Rocks wilderness. From each vantage point we turned around and admired how Mt. Adams and Mt. Saint Helens both towered above the other peaks and how they still looked like sizable mountains despite that their lower half was obscured by clouds.

We climbed up to Cispus Pass, a narrow notch on the rim that divided two basins, and then began a gradual and gentle traverse around the inside of the bowl. We crossed the headwaters of Cispus River with a nice campsite nearby and we wondered if that was where Kelly had camped the night before. As we continued on with our descending traverse we began to wonder why we were loosing so much elevation when very soon we were going to be climbing up to 7000 feet, but we had to satisfy ourselves by stating that the trail will do what the trail will do. It wasn't long before we started our climb, and a climb it was. It was steep and rocky with lots of step ups that left us sweating before we were even half way. We passed by numerous other campsites on the way up, each of them occupied by weekend hikers taking their time about getting moving in the morning (we really envied their leisurely pace). At last we made our way up the last ridge, past the remains of the Yelverton Shelter, and found ourselves admiring the spectacular views around us. To the north-west there was Goat Lake nestled in a glacial cirque; to the north was the spectacular Mt. Rainier towering over the clouds; to the northeast was Packwood Glacier and the spectacular Goat Rocks ridge that we were going to be walking across in due time; and finally below us was the extensive Upper Lake Creek Canyon, lost into the sea of clouds below.

We sat on that ridge, admiring the view, while we ate our breakfast of coal oatmeal and granola. With nourishment in our bellies we were ready to face the best of what the Goat Rocks Wilderness had to offer. We made our way over to Packwood Glacier, which was more like a snow field than a glacier, and made our way across with ease. We then dropped over the lip of the ridge and began our traverse around the north-western flanks of Old Snowy Mountain and it was there that we encountered a much smaller, but much more dangerous snow crossing. Packwood Glacier had not fazed us in the least because it was of moderate grade and ended in a small basin not more than 100 yards below us. This next snow field crossing, however, was not so much of a field as it was a chute. We were on a steep traverse, the snow was frozen hard and hardly had any foot holds in it, and the field continued on for a few hundred feet below us and then stopped abruptly at jagged boulders. We stepped out onto the field very gingerly, Scott going first. We tried to stab our trekking poles into the hard surface to give us some purchase but they would hardly penetrate. We were both scared, taking one slow and careful step at a time, trying to pick out foot holds that had some semblance of an outside lip that would help to hold our feet in place. The going was slow but fortunately the snow field was only about 60 feet wide and we both made it safely to the other side.

From there we continued along our traverse, making our way out to the narrow ridgeline that separated Upper Lake Creek canyon from the McCall Basin on the other side. At times the ridge was no wider than 6 feet and the drop offs were steep and went for many hundreds of feet. It was absolutely spectacular, especially with Old Snowy Mountains glaciers filling the foreground to the east and then more glaciers and snow fields to the west. Our traverse across the ridge was the better part of .2.5 miles of spectacular hiking, the kind that has not been paralleled since leaving the High Sierra. We both agreed that The Goat Rocks Wilderness in one area that we will return to and spend some time exploring.

Once off the sharp and narrow ridge we began our steep and sometimes rocky descent down towards Tieton Pass. It was 4 miles of down, abbreviated with one steep climb back up and over a saddle, but the later half of it was within tree cover so we were back on forest duff again and it was quite pleasant. We stopped for lunch at Lutz Lake to nourish our bodies, before we made the final 12 mile push into White Pass. Once we left Tieton Pass we began a steady climb back up to the ridge at 6600 feet. We went slow and steady through the trees, wishing that we had views like we had seen in the earlier part of the day to help the miles pass more quickly, but eventually we neared the ridge and the views opened up around us; Mt Adams was barely showing her head above the Goat Rocks behind us, and Mt. Rainier was visible in all her glory to the north.

We followed the ridgeline for a little while, dodging in and out of the trees, before we began our final descent to White Pass. As soon as we dropped off the ridge we were into the trees for the remainder of the time. At first it was a gradual grade so that we were hardly even aware that we were dropping, but then as we got within a couple of miles of finishing the grade steepened and we got down to business. It had been 4 PM when we were sitting on the ridge taking a break and we still had 5 miles to the highway and then a little further along to road to the store. By the time we were nearing the road we began to pick up the pace a little as we didn't know what time the store would close and we wanted to make sure that we got there before it did.

At last we reached the highway and then we quickly began the half mile walk along the busy road to the store. We got there at about 6:30 and found at that they closed at 7 PM. Darn! No time to get our laundry done (the washers and dryers were actually within the store). To make matters worse, they didn't open until 8 AM by which time we would like to be on the trail again, or at least just about on the trail. We grabbed our re-supply box, rifled through h the Hiker Box and purchased our lunch time block of cheese and then vacated the premises so the lady could close up. Scott then headed off to the hotel next door so that he could make a couple of telephone calls while Rachel waited with our gear. While Scott was at the hotel he met a section hiker, Junko, who had a vehicle and offered to give us a ride back to the trail head and the forest service campground. While waiting for Scott to finish up with the phone Rachel loaded our gear into the VW van and chatted merrily with him.

As we pulled into the Forest Service campground at Leech Lake we were dismayed to remember that it was the Friday evening of the Labor Day weekend and that consequently all of the campsites were taken. We asked Junko to let us off anyway as we planned to find some suitable stealth camp spot nearby. We loaded the re-supply box onto Scott's pack and then headed around the south side of the lake. As we had been walking along the highway towards the store we had seen the lake through the trees and though that we had also seen some clear flat spots that would make suitable camps. Well, when we got there we realized that the potential camp spots that we had seen from the road was actually a wide gravel foot path making its way around the lake. We were going to be losing light soon, and we were both tired, so we decided to take our chances and we pitched the tent on a little dirt clearing right off the side of the foot path. We didn't expect any body to come walking past that night and figured that we would be packed up and gone before people started walking their dogs or riding their horses along it in the morning. As luck would have it, however, we figured wrong. Two sets of people walked past us that night, despite that darkness had fallen.

Well, we made it to the end of yet another section. Only a three more re-supplies left before we reach the border. The chore of going through our re-supply box in White Pass would have to wait until the morning because by the time we got our camp set up, bathed, ate dinner and whatever else it was too late to be getting into a task like the re-supply box.. Plus, we had a leisurely day planned for our first day out of White Pass as we were meeting up with some equestrians who have been following along with our journal and want to make us dinner 15 miles into the route; they would be packing everything in, all we had to do was be there, and we were looking forward to it.