The tea was hot and I clutched the mug savoring its warmth. I had hustled through a very cold rain to reach Stevens Pass and was now slowly defrosting in the lodge’s coffee shop. Justin was coming from Seattle to collect me but wouldn’t arrive until afternoon. I sipped my tea and chatted with a NOBO hiker. Hiker hunger (insatiable appetite common amongst long distance hikers) had set in this week and I soon set off in search of food. To my amazement I discovered the bar had a gluten-free menu and at 2 PM I devoured a burger and huge salad. Soon after, Justin arrived and we drove to Seattle by way of a pizzeria where at 4 PM I killed a massive gluten-free pie. Once we arrived at Justin’s house I promptly took a shower (my first in eleven days) so as to not offend my hosts’ senses. Then Brittany (Justin’s wife), Justin, and I sat down to dinner around 7 PM. I demolished another two burgers, a big salad, and half a family-size bag of corn chips. As we talked into the night I reflected on my utter contentment. I was warm, dry, and chatting with two great friends. As the night drew to a close Justin jokingly asked, “So, do you want a snack?” He laughed aloud as I made my way to the kitchen one last time.
The days off in Seattle were wonderful but trail was calling. Justin drove me back to Stevens Pass early one morning. We said our goodbyes and I climbed back into the mountains. With each step the sound of the highway slowly faded and silence returned. Thus far the PCT had felt very remote. This section was no exception as I wouldn’t see another road for 75 miles.
Eventually, I entered the aptly named Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Pristine alpine lakes and their resident mosquitoes were around every corner. In case you haven’t met them, Washington mosquitoes look more like humming birds than mosquitoes. If I stopped hiking for even a moment I risked donating a whole pint to the buzzing hoard. At breaks, I combated this by immediately donning a head net, throwing on my rain jacket, and covering my legs with a plastic ground sheet. Stylish right?
This section was also rugged. It featured plenty of long climbs and never-ending stretches of talus. Hours spent climbing through a talus fields in trail runners will leave your feet throbbing.
I hiked alone with my thoughts almost every day. This solitude was only interrupted by an occasional hello to a passing hiker and short chats during breaks. However, I did meet a few interesting people. For instance, I paused briefly during a long descent to shoot the breeze with a lady hiker named Dirty Avocado. As we talked it dawned on me that she was the same Dirty Avocado whose videos I watched for years on YouTube. I also competed in hilarious fashion with two weekend hikers for tent sites. We hiked out of Stevens Pass together and for four nights we unintentionally turned up at same the tiny campsites. The joke “I get the feeling I’m being followed” got a workout.
By Monday morning I was quickly approaching the tiny town of Snoqualmie Pass. For days I had dreamt of a celiac friendly restaurant in town called The Commonwealth. I was only a few hours from the pass and I could almost taste the food. As I hiked closer, I was surprised to find cell service and decided to check the restaurant’s schedule. The words “Closed Monday” hit me like a bad breakup. If I kept hiking I’d miss my date with town food. My stomach decided this was preposterous. I promptly called it a day and set about pitching my tent. A fellow hiker asked why I was making camp at 2pm. I explained my culinary conundrum and he smiled with approval.
Was it worth the wait? You bet! I was the first one through the door when The Commonwealth opened. I savored every bite of a big juicy burger, a gigantic salad, and a mountain of braised chicken tacos. Then I melted into my chair, relished in the experience, and perused the menu once more.