After all the rain, I really had to convince myself to keep going. I had been extremely lucky up to this point where it came to rain, having only run into it maybe two or three times in the previous three months. To discover that it was my kryptonite, 90% of the way to Canada took some getting over. I had a restless night, punctuated by a loud altercation between two guys, one angry because the other was snoring too loudly. I awoke at the normal time and went to the hostel’s kitchen to make coffee. The one employee, Mike, was also awake and ready to chat. He told me a lot about San Francisco’s underground party scene and how crazy things were when he lived there. When it was time to meet my friend, Cassie, I packed up and left to meet her at a restaurant. We caught up over a huge breakfast and then I picked up my resupply package. On the way to the trailhead, we talked a lot about many different subjects, like the trail, nursing, our hospital unit on which we’d worked together, and mental health. I realized it was the most I’d spoken since I left Tinkle almost three weeks before.

We hiked together up what I called a “big hill,” really a 2400-foot climb surrounded by pristine lakes, sheer rock walls, volcanic mountains, and white clouds. We ate lunch while we watched a dog run in and out of the small lakes below us. We hiked until the early evening and stopped to set up camp. Cassie had brought a two person tent to share, so I hiked to get water while she set it up. We stretched and ate dinner while enjoying the view down into the valley. In our sleeping bags later, we heard singing coming up the trail. Happy and Stuck on the Ground (SOTG) had caught up to us, followed by Goat Man and Pooper. They settled in to cowboy camp and we all soon fell asleep.

Overnight, the clouds had cleared and revealed Mount Rainier across the valley, surprising all of us. We ate breakfast with the new view and then Cassandra and I parted ways. It had been nice to have a hiking buddy again. On my own once more, I hiked up the trail to find even more views. The day brought a couple other unexpected reunions. From a guy hiking SOBO, I heard “Maddy, the nurse?” It was Paul, an Australian police officer I had shared a car with on the way to the trailhead at the border of Mexico on day one! He had flipped up north to head south and complete Washington before the snow started. It was cool to come full circle on that one. I also ran into Mosey, a lady I hadn’t seen since the desert in southern California. All day, I’d also been flip-flopping with the group of hikers we’d shared a tentsite with. We hiked together for a while and I talked to Happy and SOTG for a while about women on trail and in the outdoors in general, the Supreme Court, finishing the trail, and what life held afterward. SOTG said we probably looked weird hiking all together in a line. I said we might as well be whistling that one song. I started and everyone else followed along. Magical. We were all going to camp in the same place, but found it full already by the time we got there. They were going to cowboy camp (without tents) on a bridge, but I continued and found a flat spot to set up.

The group of hikers and I flip-flopped some more the next day, which was pretty cold and very pretty. It was my favorite day in Washington thus far, each climb revealing more mountains, more clouds, more splendor. There were a couple tough spots, including a crossing where I had to climb sharp rocks that ripped my pants and cut my leg a bit. At lunch I fell into a gear conversation with a guy named Lost. One of the advantages of trail life is that everyone you run into has a shared experience of preparing for, planning, and then actually hiking the trail, so one on one conversations are easy. I ended the day at a lake nearby a family. The kids came up to me and told me about Penelope Orangelegs, the local goose they’d named and asked me a lot of questions about hiking. After they left, I set up my tent and availed myself of the pit toilet, an open box in the woods, but a definite step above having to dig my own hole.

I escaped rain overnight, but as soon as I started walking the next day, the rain started falling. I only had nine miles until Stevens Pass, where I planned to stop. The nine miles were interesting. I passed under powerlines, which make a buzzing sound in dry conditions, but with the rain sounded like a waterfall overhead. I started passing day hikers and seeing ski lifts as I drew closer to the pass. As I walked in, a “Trail Magic” sign greeted me. Sticky Fingers’ dad was the trail angel and had brought breakfast sandwiches, coffee, beer, doughnuts, cookies, brownies, and a corgi named Roger! The best trail magic, however, was Happy’s news. The northern terminus of the trail had been closed because of forest fires. We all celebrated its opening again; we could finish the trail on the trail, now!