In the high altitudes of the Washington Cascades, it was becoming cold and wet. In the mornings, I had to play a real-life game of Operation, trying not to touch the sloping tent wall, covered in tiny droplets. As soon as I did, they gathered together and dripped down the side, getting me and my gear wet. I would pack my wet tent in my back, outside the garbage bag I used as a pack liner, keeping the rest of my stuff as dry as I could manage. The temperatures were in the 50’s. I walked up and down hills in the mist one morning until I crossed a ridge and the mist cleared away a bit, revealing a beautiful view of Chinook Pass, some lakes, and lots of day hikers. I made my way through and crossed the road. When I passed a parking lot, I saw trail magic! A circle of camp chairs alerted me. Mad Baker, Santana Bandana, and Elizabeth had set up a feast of doughnuts, coffee, potato salad, pasta salad, cookies, and more. I used the time and the glimpse of sun to lay my sleeping bag out to dry. I stayed too long, but felt much better afterward. I saw this group of older women with matching hats who seemed like they were having so much fun. I chased a couple of them down and asked to see what their hats said. “GEMS; Girls Enjoying Mountains” festooned the hats and further made my day. It was getting cold and misty again as I headed towards my night’s tentsite. A light rain began to fall and I put on my rain gear. As I drew close to the site I was aiming for, I entered a burn area. I was really hoping the site would be beyond it. If I camped in a burned area in a storm, I’d be in danger of falling branches. I was lucky. At the tentsite, it seemed the fire spared a stand of trees. I met Floater there, who had the greatest dad brag. He told me all about his kids, one an engineer, and his daughter, a doctor who was curing pediatric heart cancer. While he spoke, I was making my ramen in my tent vestibule and eating it face down in the steam, trying to get warm and giving myself a ramen facial, my new invention. I guess we all have things to be proud of.

I set off in a pretty good drizzle the next day and I made good time until ten in the morning, whistling and singing to myself. I found a hut in the woods and inside, hikers! They’d stayed there the night. Most importantly, there was a wood stove. I warmed up and hung my tent and sleeping bag to dry and set my wet socks in front of the stove. There were tables and we all hung out, chatting and eating. We talked about working in neurology, as there was a physical therapist who worked with the same population as I did and also about The Great British Bake Off, another favorite subject. A few of the hikers were taking a zero day there to stay out of the rain. It was so tempting to join them, but I carried on. As I left, a huge group of people who had driven in were unloading coolers of beer and food, bringing the makings of a raucous party I wanted no part in. I was okay with leaving then. It rained on and off the rest of the rest of the day, more steadily towards the end. I was tired of being wet and cold and frustrated at the weather. I heard the next day was supposed to be nicer and wrote “It better be, or else.” I’m not sure what I planned to do, but it hadn’t stopped by the next morning. I ate breakfast in my tent and continued on a descent.

At about 18 miles, I stopped for lunch when the sun finally came out. Huzzah! I found a spot to spread out my gear and dry it in the sun. My feet had started hurting on the last few miles and they were very ugly when I pulled my socks off. My shoes hadn’t been dry for a couple days and the constant wetness seemed to soften up my calluses. The skin on my feet looked dead, pocked, and ripped up (see below, or don’t, if gross feet gross you out). Between my toes, the skin had ripped and I scolded myself for not stopping earlier. I stayed until my stuff was dry. I was planning 11 more miles for the day until Snoqualmie Pass and I made good time getting there. At the pass I stopped at a brewery, hoping for food, but they directed me to a nearby food truck. I hurried there, worried it’d be too late, but I was able to get food and a free beer! Even better, I found hikers there, including Happy! I hadn’t seen him in a long time. I ate with him and met Goat Man, Sisyphus, Stuck on the Ground, and Sticky Fingers. We learned some Dutch words from Sisyphus that don’t bear repeating and he filmed us trying to pronounce them to send to his mom, who I hope found it more funny than offensive.

Sticky Fingers and I were planning on staying the night in a nearby hostel, so we said goodbye to the others and walked there. The Washington Alpine Club was a really cool spot, with a wood stove, great hiker box, ping pong, foosball, couches, and bunk rooms. I desperately needed to wash my socks, which I could smell from inside my bag when I was walking, a new and unpleasant development. I washed them by hand outside in the dark with hose water before going to bed. The next day, I planned to meet a friend and hike with them for a day. I fell asleep looking at photos of trench foot and convincing myself not to beg my friend to take me home with her to escape the rain…

Warning: Gross feet