This morning, I hoped to rise early, but that didn’t work out. Honestly, hiking before dawn didn’t seem wise. The snow was tough enough to navigate without adding darkness to the mix. I’m glad I pushed on last night; those extra miles were worth it, even if the trek was slow.
When I set out, I was thankful for my seal skin waterproof socks. They were a bit damp, but far more comfortable than anything else. I couldn’t imagine walking for 14 hours in snow without them. As I began my journey, I followed some footprints, which helped, especially since this section of the trail was forested, and there weren’t many spots where the tracks disappeared.
The day started slow, yet I was moving faster than the previous night. It’s frustrating to only manage 2 mph while exerting myself so much. After a few miles, the footprints I followed veered off course. I realized they likely belonged to hikers who had camped nearby and then ventured off the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) to tackle a peak.
Sadly, I returned to postholing. Many open areas along the trail had deeper snow drifts, and I found myself trudging through knee-deep snow. Even a few inches became a luxury after what I had experienced.
The day stretched into night. Those first 15 miles felt like a marathon. I was disheartened by how slowly I was moving, but I knew getting below 6,000 feet would help. Around the 22-mile mark, I anticipated reaching Elk Lake, close to 5,000 feet, where I could enjoy easier trails.
As I descended, conditions improved. With less snow, I found myself walking at nearly 3 mph—a huge relief! I also couldn’t help but be amused by the weather. It was warm enough for shorts, yet I still needed my tall waterproof socks for the snow.
I worried about how long the snow would stick around. If it’s still this deep, my trek through Oregon could get exhausting. Even though I managed about 30 miles a day, they felt tougher than they should.
By late afternoon, I was finally moving faster, and I felt more energized. I approached the junction for Elk Lake just as Sprinter, my friend, arrived with supplies. It was perfect timing. After refueling on food and drinks, I was ready to tackle the evening.
The trail conditions kept getting better. The snow disappeared almost completely, and I was thrilled to move smoothly through lovely pine-covered trails, hitting around 3.5 mph.
I left Sprinter after sharing some good moments, and the final stretch of my evening hike was surprisingly quick and enjoyable. I covered more distance than expected. It was funny how the day’s earlier challenges made me appreciate the ease of those flat stretches.
Once night fell, I continued with my headlamp, moving along confidently. I cruised through the last miles, enjoying the calm night. It took me about 10 hours to cover the first 22 miles, but I zipped through the next 12, feeling energized.
At the end of the day, I quickly set up camp, eager to remove my seal skin socks. They kept my feet warm, but my shoes had soaked through. After settling in, I charged my electronics and prepared a hot mocha for the morning. I feared my shoes would be frozen again when I woke up, but I wanted to savor the warm nights ahead.
This journey through snowy trails has reminded me of some basic truths: nature tests our limits, but it also provides moments of unexpected joy and camaraderie. Each mile, no matter how tough, becomes a memory worth cherishing. With each step, I’m continuously grateful for the experience.
The Pacific Crest Trail is more than just a hike; it’s a journey of discovery about both the world and myself. Despite the challenges, I can’t wait for what lies ahead.
For anyone considering a trek on the PCT, check out the Pacific Crest Trail Association for updates on trail conditions and essential resources.
