Days 135 – 137: PCT Miles 2500.73 – 2575.1

Day 135: Hiking into the night 2524.5 (23.77)

The morning was cold and we kept sleeping till 6am. It was below 10C. We left at 7.30am. We saw the sun come out. It was so great.

When it’s cold and dark it’s more exciting

We warmed up and I solar charged my power bank. We climbed a lot and soon saw glacier covered peaks and red mountain tops. It was so beautiful. My left shin hurt a little but not to bad. We went over a saddle down into a deep valley and for the rest of the day stayed in a forest. We had lunch near a stream where the sun could dry our sleeping bags and tent.

We had to climb countless fallen trees, sometimes several on top of each other and in many places there was no trail and we went straight up a slippery mud slide. At some point Iceman slipped into a tree and his hip belt buckle broke. Oh no! He could tie it together somehow but the hip buckle is essential, with no service the next few days, this is an issue. Section K is infamous for having over 30 massive fallen red wood trees on trail. Sometimes Iceman had to push me up one side of the tree.

We calculated in order to make the 6.15pm shuttle to Stehekin we should hike 25 miles today and tomorrow and 20 miles the third day. Weirdly, in the afternoon my left shin hurt so bad I had to take Ibuprofen and cool my foot in a glacial stream. It seemed to help.

We hiked up some more and saw an incredible sunset over rugged mountains. With still at least 3 miles to go, we had to night hike. This is always spooky to me as you see only a little bulb in front of you. It’s scary. We climbed over a ridge line and down on the other side.

The lake we wanted to stay at has about 10 tents so we kept going. Another mile out so and we were almost alone, just one other tent. Much better. Amazing stars all around.

Miles hiked: 23.77

Ascent: 5799 ft

Descent: 5643 ft

Steps: 54.786

Day 136: Miner Creek 2552.3 (28.9)

The day began in the most responsible way possible — by turning off my 6 a.m. alarm and falling blissfully back asleep. When we finally stumbled out of our tent at 6:30, the world was already smoky, and we were already behind schedule. Things only went downhill from there — well, first they went uphill, eight miles and 2,500 feet of it.

I also made an unfortunate early-morning contribution to the PCT landscape. I thought I’d found a discreet side trail, but nope — turns out it was visible from the main path. Somewhere out there, a hiker is probably still wondering about my life choices. Sorry about that.

By lunchtime, things got real. We’d only covered 10 miles, it was already 1 p.m., and we realized that to catch the 6:15 p.m. shuttle to Stehekin tomorrow, we needed to crank out another 20 miles today. Nothing motivates quite like the threat of missing your ride to civilization (and real food).

The trail responded like a cranky old gatekeeper. Blowdowns everywhere — tree trunks taller than us, forcing awkward climbs, yoga moves, and questionable language. Progress was slow and sweaty. Somewhere between fallen trees, we finished our audiobook ‘The Last Season’, a fascinating read about a backcountry ranger’s disappearance in Sequoia & Kings Canyon, my favorite section of the PCT. It made me grateful that, unlike him, I only have to worry about getting to Stehekin on time and not going missing entirely.

To keep the mental wheels turning, we switched to ‘21st Century UFOs’ on audiobook. Nothing adds atmosphere to a smoky mountain night like aliens. The haze stuck around all day, making our heads throb just enough to add an extra layer of misery. Meanwhile, Iceman managed to embody trail magic by gifting a lighter to a fellow hiker, and Arnoud worked some satellite-messaging magic to book us a cabin in Stehekin. Civilization was calling — faintly, through the smoke.

We kept hiking until 9 p.m., headlamps cutting through the gloom, stumbling over roots like zombies on a mission. Luckily, we found a flat camp spot with room to spare — and just one other hiker, no witnesses to our late arrival. My hip was complaining, but my left shin was quiet, and my right knee seems to have accepted its fate after weeks of stretching.

The stats say it all:
Miles hiked: 28.9 😝
Ascent: 5,668 ft
Descent: 2,650 ft
Steps: 66,178

A long day, a smoky sky, and a hard-earned camp. Tomorrow, Stehekin — assuming we can still stand up in the morning.

Day 137: The Day We Chased Stehekin (and Steak) 2575.1 (23.56)

Some mornings, adventure starts with a sunrise. Ours started with an alarm that laughed in our faces at 5:30 a.m. You know that blurry-eyed moment when you question every decision that led you to this exact point in the timeline? That was us while stuffing breakfast into our faces at dawn, convincing ourselves that the early bird gets… a shuttle seat, apparently.

By 7:00 a.m. on the dot, we stepped into the wilderness like punctual legends. If there’s a spiritual reward for hitting the trail before coffee fully hits your bloodstream, we earned it.

Around midday, we stopped at “the Creek”—which sounds poetic but is really just a gorgeous creek. There, we assembled what can only be described as a mourning burrito: tortillas, rice, beans, and the faint scent of regret that we didn’t pack cheese and salami. It was warm, which automatically made it the best lunch of the week.

With tortillas in hand and questionable enthusiasm in our legs, we pressed on.

After 10 hours of steady climbing, descending, and pretending to enjoy nature’s cruel beauty, we rolled into the High Bridge Ranger Cabin at a precise 5:50 p.m. (Is this what adulting looks like?)

We even had time to check out the salmon under the bridge—serene little zen masters of the current, gliding in circles while we contemplated our own mortal fragility and whether we smelled as bad as we thought. Spoiler: we did.

Then, at 6:15 p.m., the shuttle appeared like a chariot of glory. Destination: Stehekin Valley Ranch. Estimated mood upon arrival: feral delight.

When we got there, we ditched our packs with the grace of collapsing storks and beelined to dinner in the “big kitchen cabin.” And oh, dear reader, let us tell you—this was no sad freeze-dried affair. This was the banquet of our wildest backpacker fantasies: a salad buffet starter, a 12-ounce steak flanked by potatoes and carrots, and a dessert buffet that almost made us cry.

Every bite whispered, “You did it. You’re not just hiking—you’re living.”

We checked into the trapper cabin, which had all the rustic charm you’d expect—wood walls, mountain silence, and precisely zero outlets. Charging our phones became a social ritual in the communal bathroom, where guests mingled in that half-desperate, half-zen camaraderie that only comes from trying to hold your toothbrush and your charging cable at the same time.

Stats That Don’t Lie

Miles hiked: 23.56
Ascent: 3160 ft
Descent: 6181 ft
Steps: 54,146
Steak satisfaction level: 10/10, would hike again for dinner

In the end, the day wasn’t just about the distance. It was about how far you can push your body, your patience, and your love of tortillas before realizing that heaven might just look like a ranch kitchen filled with tired people and unlimited dessert.

Thanks for reading. Let me know if you have any questions or comments. I always love to hear from you.

🫶🫶🫶

Disco