Back Home… Wherever That May Be.
After 7 months on the road, we are back in Belgium. Initially, I wrote "back home", but home has become such a fluid concept over the last few years.
I have always been very lucky to live in beautiful homes amongst family and dear friends. That is all you could wish for... right?
But for a couple of years now, I developed some sort of bug, that now lives comfortably in the back of my mind. Back then, however, it scared the hell out of me. It constantly pointed me to the fact that somehow, I was missing out. There was a part of me, a longing lingering undiscovered, and I was terrified of exploring it. I knew it would be like opening Pandora’s box - and there would be no way back.
So, I resisted and decorated my life in the best way possible. I went to work 5 times a week, turned my bedroom into a green tunnel of books and magic, and frequently indulged in long, hot bath sessions with a good book: In other words, I did everything I could to adjust to life as we know it. And hope it would be enough.
But all around me, friends and acquaintances made personal progress. Whether that included starting a family, building a business and a house, or focusing on their careers: They made a choice. And I was envious: I wanted to choose, too.
So, I chose myself. Being 25 at the time, it was about time to wake up that part of myself that I did not dare stir. And that might have been the biggest step I ever took in my life. Filled with hope, excitement, gratitude, fears, and a fast-beating heart - I jumped. After that, anything was possible now.
Time to say my goodbyes, time to leave home behind.
And that is how I dove into the dreadful, intrinsic system of permits and passports, covid-laws and international flights. My personal belongings were boxed up and the city was notified of my absence. I was free.
A couple of weeks later, I set foot on the Pacific Crest Trail in Washington. At last, I knew and understood: This was it.
Feelings of infinite happiness, of belonging. Finally, I had found home. Moreover, I would find someone whose home it was, too. And together, we climbed hills, swam in cold lakes, and swatted pesky mosquitos. It was our home now.
Our home changed every night: From campsites in the deep forests of Washington, to sleeping under the stars in Oregon parks and sandy beaches on the Oregon Coast Trail. From Walmart parking lots, state park campgrounds and hot springs to long stretches of desert and beautiful BLM lands. Whether we slept amongst desert, sand, rock, or trees: I never felt more at home.
After several months of adventuring, I took the plane back to Belgium. Back home? Not entirely. I remember a heavy feeling upon returning to my home country, once so safe and comfortable. I know the rules, the language, the public transport, the tv shows, our many failures, and numerous benefits. I know every little piece of the puzzle that is my little country, and I hold it dear. And yet, returning felt like a daunting task. It also meant separation from Ryan, who stayed behind in the U.S.
That winter, I worked for 4 months in a Red Cross refugee center. I missed my partner in crime and I missed that part of myself that I finally allowed to be free. But as Simon & Garfunkel once sang, April Come She Will…
And April was the month when I sold half of my stuff, put the other half in boxes again, and hopped back on a plane across the ocean. The plan was that there was no plan.
Ryan picked me up in the airport of Las Vegas. Customs was not exactly happy upon my arrival: "No job? No home? No plans? Well, missy...What do you think you are doing?" My point exactly. After some interrogation, they finally let me enter the United States. And off we went.
Now, seven months later, we are back in Belgium! Back home? Who knows. We now know; Home is quite a fluid concept. We are moving into a beautiful house in Bruges with a wonderful roommate. A whole new adventure for Ryan and myself: Living domesticated lives for a bit! We swap catholes for a flushing toilet and a climbing crash pad for a bed. Living here offers us a place to rest, process the adventures of the past year, and make plans for the future... Wherever that may be.
Whether it is a mountain cabin, a lakeshore campground, a Walmart parking lot, the trunk of a car, a cheap motel 6, or a house in Bruges - I now know:
“… when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
(Herman Hesse in Bäume: Betrachtungen und Gedichte)
Pacific Crest Trail: Section K: Stehekin to Stevens Pass
PCT SOBO hike in Washington: Glacier Peak Wilderness
After a wholesome evening in Stehekin, section K of the PCT SOBO continues through Glacier Peak Wilderness, high up in the mountains. It was late July, the sky was baby blue, and the sunlight bathed the forests and creeks in different shades of gold. Because of the summer heat and elevation gain, it was a pretty rough, but rewarding stretch!
Day 3: First steps into the valley
Left: Irish making his way around a fallen tree. / Right: Welcome to Glacier Peak Wilderness!
Stuffed from the bakery goodies in Stehekin, we put our backpacks back on and said farewell to the friendly bus driver. Now it is all the way uphill! We gradually climb up to 678m (2255 ft).
Shiny new suspension bridges along the PCT.
After 12 miles of huffing and puffing, we camp alongside South Fork Agnes Creek, a wild glacial stream. The campsite used to be sketchy due to hazardous trees, so we paid extra attention to where we staked our tents.
Day 4: Climbing to the heart of Glacier Peak Wilderness
I woke up (late again) and enjoyed a hot coffee while reading on Farout (you know, the previous Guthooks) what today's hike would bring. It was very clear: Today's trail would be devoted to the ascend into Glacier Peak Wilderness. Climbing, climbing, and more climbing. Oh, and bushwhacking.
Crossing creeks via wooden bridges or logs.
The sun was our constant companion in the Glacier Peak Wilderness. Armed with sunglasses and a sunhat, I slowly moved forward. The landscape in the valley started to change with every step. After bushwhacking through brambles and bushes, the vegetation was now growing sparse and the creeks were getting colder.
By pure chance, I found Dudders' glasses in the middle of some serious bushwhacking and was happy to return them to him. Later that day, I would lose my watch while scrambling over a fallen tree. Surprisingly, Irish found it and returned it to me that same evening. Sometimes, as Luna Lovegood in Harry Potter says, "things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end... If not always in a way we expect."
Blowdown trees: Thank you trail crew!
The afternoon is spent walking in the woods again. A sky-high, old forest full of towering trees. Many of those giants seem to have succumbed to gravity. Fallen trees form huge obstacles and I wriggle myself under or push myself over the tree. It feels like a true jungle workout! Later on, we heard that the PCT trail crews put all their time and effort into clearing these blowdowns. Some trees are colossal and I can only imagine the effort it takes to clear them from the trail. I salute these people!
Blowdowns feel like forest gymnastics!
SOBO Hikers: Birds of a feather flock together
I set up camp at 5 pm and was soon joined by Irish and Dudders. Irish taught me to camp away from the trail, as animals use trail tracks too. He too shows me to pour out snacks in one's hand. Trail hygiene is somewhat primitive, so it is better not to touch each other's food. I am grateful for the knowledge he shares with me and simply happy with my two trail buddies. I am 25 years old, Irish is 50-ish and Dudders 73. Three different generations, one beautiful connection.
Cougar alarm
That night, we were awakened by someone entering camp. It is a rattled hiker from Seattle who was stalked by a cougar not far from our camp. She stayed with us for the night. During twilight hours and nighttime, cougars are most active.
Day 5: Alpine enchantment on the PCT
Today was all about flowers, colours, clouds,... An abundance of life. I am still spellbound just thinking about it. The world feels very different up there.
Flower paradise.
Not only the ripening berries, but also the first NOBOs start to show up! From then on, I would meet a handful, or more, thruhikers and sectionhikers every day. Conversations were funny, genuine and kept me going with a smile on my face. Plus I made other friends too..
Left: Blacktail deer saying hi! / Right: Into the Glacier Peak territory.
This day was my first 20-mile day as a PCT SOBO hiker. I had my intentions set on the Dolly Vista camp spot - gorgeous pit toilet - and was happy to reach it. The end of the day was a +2000 feet climb in less than 3 miles. It was painful, but rewarding. Washington in a nutshell!
I bathed my feet in the icy-cold water while swatting mosquitos and drinking hot cacao. Time for bed now.
Day 6: Hiking up and down with a hint of bear spray
Started hiking at 5700 feet, then following switchbacks downhill to 3200, and eventually climbing back to 5400 feet. All in less than 10 miles. Yep, this is Washington for sure!
Mica Lake (5400 feet) was the place where my friend Stitches had an injury that - wait for it - left him with stitches in his forehead. I mentally sent him some support and hoped to see him soon back on trail.
Left & middle: Yummy water sources. / Right: Branden's walking stick.
After the final climb, the trail took me past many seasonal mountain streams and flower fields. I drank from every creek and waterfall. The Washington water tasted SO good! :)
26 miles in, I decided to call it a day. Unfortunately, that night, I accidentally showered myself with bear spray. I had to scoop ice in Ziploc bags and sleep with my aching hands tucked in those bags. Quite the adventure indeed :-)
Day 7: From Portal Peak to Kodak Peak ❤️
With bags under my eyes and burning, red hands, I dragged myself to Portal Peak, where I met some nice climbers who took my picture.
After chatting for a while, we said our goodbyes. I waved to White mountain and made way for Kodak Peak. Is it a coincidence that I would meet fellow SOBO hiker Kodak that same day, on that exact location? ❤️
We took a break in lake Sally Ann and talked the day away. The landscape was evergreen. Pear Lake was where we camped. We had a lovely evening swim, chatted with fellow hikers, and fell asleep under the sound of buzzing mosquitos. It is the very end of July and they are more awake than ever.
Day 8: Hitchhiking from the PCT to Skykomish
After 10 miles of hiking, we arrive at Stevens Pass and hitchhike west to Skykomish. Population: 121.
Skykomish has a laundry (hurray), a pub (double hurray!), and the Cascadia Inn, a hiker-friendly hotel owned by the major himself! Beer, town food, a shower, and a bed - I am a happy woman.
Thanks for reading!
Pacific Crest Trail - Section K: Rainy Pass to Stehekin (part 1)
My first steps on the PCT as a SOBO hiker.
Rainy Pass had its own mini-PCT-monument.
Day 1: Better start walking!
Saturday, July 24th is D-day! I am dropped off by trail angel Madd Baker at Rainy Pass, 61 miles from the Canadian border. As we speak, the Cedar Creek fire is still burning and I was advised to start my PCT SOBO hike from Rainy Pass. Remembering my promise to my mother to make wise decisions, I'm headed for Rainy Pass. I'll be back for you, northern terminus!
Nothing ever goes as planned. And that's totally fine!
After all the disappointments in 2020 (aka canceled NOBO permit due to Covid), I was just very grateful to be on trail. Whether northbound, southbound, eastbound or whatever - I was there! I fought hard for my dream to come true and it was coming true. I looked at my two feet and watched them slowly move forward. Now it's time to walk!
Some of the first PCT trail markers I encountered on trail.
Bear bravery? ... Not really :)
My moment of bravery and self-confidence was short lived, when after only 15 minutes I encountered my first black bear. Crunching on the leaves of a fallen tree, looking for roots and early berries. Starstruck. Bears truly are beautiful animals. I just wasn't sure how to proceed. Not long after that came Irish. "Don't you worry, they won't hurt you! Just walk on!" Following the footsteps of this brave Irishman, I cautiously proceeded. My first day on trail, my first bear. How befitting!
Left: Bear claw marks on the right tree. / Right: My guess: the Eastern White pine cone.
I only walked 8 miles that day, stopping every now and then to pinch myself and see if this was real. And to catch my breath - I was struggling with the weight of my backpack. Every beginning is hard, and that is okay. I am always reminded of a quote of Murakami:
"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional."
I'd like to live by that.
Washington wilderness wonders
First impressions of the Washington wilderness? Only superlatives. So green, so lush! What a wild, bold, and brave terrain. I walked with a smile on my face every single day. My first campsitelearned was shared with Sofa Queen. I learnt about her excellent dental hygiene on trail - impressive! - and her incredible courage to carry a backpack that was even heavier than mine. The next morning, I was hoping to wake up at 6 AM, but it was 9 instead. Oh well!
Howard Lake, full of loud frogs and lily pads.
Hiking in my own fantasy world
The first couple of days I walked without earphones. Gradually, I enjoyed listening to some music or a podcast now and then. Some steep climbs got a little easier when Wilco was singing in my ear. Whenever I felt tired, I carried on listening to the adventures of Bilbo and Frodo in Middle Earth. I looked around and could well imagine their quest, sorrows, and aches. Not that I encountered any orcs or unfriendly trees, on the contrary: The trees were magnificent and the people were good-looking and gracious. ;-)
Day 2: A lovely time in Stehekin
My second day on trail started later than anticipated, but I was very excited. I would make way for Stehekin today! After a sunny and happy morning, I arrived around noon at the High Bridge. This quaint little spot includes a ranger cabin (home to the friendly ranger Stan), information signs, and picnic tables. That is where I met Tahlia and her dog Strider. All of us descended to drink from the swirling Stehekin River.
The aquamarine blue Stehekin River.
Together, the three of us took the shuttle bus to Stehekin (the schedule can be found on FarOut). Tahlia was meeting up with a friend who worked at The Garden, an organic produce farm. We decided to meet up later in town that evening. Since it was only my second night on the trail, I decided to free camp in a designated camping area in town.
Stehekin is accessible by boat, plane, or foot only. So, "town" literally means a post office, a general store, and a couple of chalets. It is a peaceful boaters' paradise.
Blue skies, blue water.
Swimming session in Lake Chelan
After setting up my tent, I escaped my sweaty clothes and took a refreshing swim in Lake Chelan. It was icy cold, but it felt so good! There were some families on boats enjoying the setting sun in the middle of the lake. Tahlia joined me for a swim, and later we had a beer with her friend from The Garden, the three of us looking out over the lake. It was then that I had my first wasp sting - that's what you get for drinking sweet cider! ;-)
Lake Chelan, from the Salish word Tsi-Laan, meaning deep water.
That same evening, I saw Irish again who met up with his hiker friend, Dudders. They hiked the PCT together in 2017 and were now hiking SOBO. I enjoyed their company together with Crisco. Tahlia and Strider later joined us too. It was a lovely evening.
Day 3: Leaving Stehekin as ... Cinnamon!
The next morning, the shuttle bus took us back to trail around 8 PM. I hardly managed to get up on time and pack up - and frankly, I still suck at waking up early. Irish and Dudders were on the bus too and happy that I made it after all! 10minutes later, the bus stopped at the bakery. That's right, THE bakery of Stehekin! It really lives up to its reputation. The staff is so friendly and the food is unforgettable. In particular, the pizza slices, blueberry muffins, and their world-famous cinnamon buns were fantastic. I shared those with Irish and Dudders, who in turn rewarded me with my trailname: Cinnamon! I couldn't be happier.
Yep, this is me from now on! Yummy :)
Thanks for reading!