By Tyler Socash
IG: @tylerhikes
The trail will challenge you emotionally, physically, and mentally during your thru-hike. I just happened to ride that triad of roller coasters within a 24-hour time span.
I set out from White Pass at 6pm alone. This was strange. Thus far I had been hiking with Half Jesus and Wildfire throughout the state of Washington, but I had different ambitions than my hiking comrades in this upcoming section — I wanted to do a high traverse in the Goat Rocks Wilderness.
Ever since we met a northbounder named Impala (2nd to finish the Pacific Crest Trail northbound this year) in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, we heard from every single northbound hiker how amazing the Goat Rocks were. Most people remarked how they wished they had spent more time in that region. Hailing from New York State, I couldn't imagine another time in the near future that I would find myself back here, so I decided to venture out by myself to spend more quality time with the wilderness.
The initial ascent out of a resupply town is always difficult. You carry large amounts of food, large amounts of water, and therefore your pack weight is substantial. I was carrying a 40lb. pack. With Cascade Locks, OR over 150 miles away, I wanted to ensure that I had enough food for the journey.
Thousands of vertical feet and many miles later, I made it to Shoe Lake Basin and the top of the ridge. Even though my shoulders ached under the weight of my pack, the idea of witnessing my first sunset behind Mount Rainier propelled me onward.
When I set my pack down, I was in awe. The clouds were perfect, and the sun was still above the horizon... This would be one of the greatest sunsets of my life.
Goat Rocks in the distance. Excited for the sunset!
The inspirational sunset behind Mount Rainier.
When it happened I was invigorated! I felt like John Muir, Bob Marshall, or Edward Abbey would have agreed that this was an exceptional sunset from an extraordinary location. I sat there for an hour as the sky turned into a Crayola crayon canvas. Every color was on display. The mountains actually turned purple in the foreground. "For purple mountain majesties!" I sang aloud. I felt alive, and I was very happy that I embarked out on this section in time to witness my greatest moment on trail.
The sunset was so grand that I wondered, "If I night hike, perhaps I can reach the Goat Rocks in time for an epic sunrise?" I pushed through the dark forest and donned my trusty headlamp. I was intimidated at first, but no animal wants to mess with a loud human in the dark, so I pushed onward with confidence. Something to think about, because someone will eventually ask thru-hikers about this: over 30,000 people have died in car accidents each year in the United States since 1945. Only a couple of bear attacks happen every year. You can pull this stuff up on Wikipedia if you'd like. I think I'll take my chances in places like Goat Rocks Wilderness. No I'm not afraid of bears or mountain lions... I'm afraid of sharing the road with people in steel machines that are going 65+ mph!
Mount Rainier and alpine flora in the safe Goat Rocks Wilderness!
The next morning I made it to the highly-anticipated Knife's Edge of the Pacific Crest Trail in Goat Rocks. This is when I began experiencing euphoria...
A happy Tyler!
Mount Saint Helens in the distance... I wonder where the top half of the mountain went?...
On top of Old Snowy - the beginning of my off-trail traverse.
When I climbed Old Snowy, I felt like I had made it to heaven. I saw herds of elk and mountain goats in the valleys below, I saw Mount Saint Helens, Mount Rainier, Mount Adams... They were all there! I could even spy the Alpine Lakes Wilderness mountains and Glacier Peak in the north. I felt so accomplished walking all this way in just a few weeks. I remembered looking out of that airplane window and seeing all of these sentinels below... Now I was walking beyond them!
I felt a rush of emotion. I cried, and that's OK because Jim Valvano said it was one of the three things you should do everyday — "have your emotions moved to tears." I couldn't believe that this was my life and my journey. I couldn't believe how utterly gorgeous the wilderness was. All at once I missed my family and my friends. I wish they could have been up on Old Snowy with me. Unbridled happiness and adrenaline pumped through me. That's when I remembered Impala's suggestion from two weeks ago... "Stay high."
I assumed he meant the ridgeline, and when I saw Ives Peak in the distance I knew that I had to give it a shot. I would summit Ives and contour to a ridge that met up with the PCT at Cispus Pass. Easy right? I was so incredibly wrong, but my emotional high had me pressing along the talus fields.
It happened rather quickly. It started with a misstep, led to a few cuts, and resulted in a rockslide. I heard people on the PCT below shouting, "Rock fall!" I jumped towards larger rocks and escaped with only a few small scars that still haven't faded. The rock tumbled forever, but luckily not anywhere near the trail below. I turned around. I was scared.
I fully intended to return to the trail down the Old Snowy alternate. When I climbed back up to the summit of Old Snowy I was shocked to be confronted by a beautiful girl hiking in a sports bra and her parents. "Where yah heading?!" the older, yet spry man asked. "Well, I was thinking about traversing to Ives Peak and beyond before eventually returning to the PCT, but I just started a rock fall and spooked myself out." The older man with his wry wit responded, "You're heading the wrong way if you want to summit Ives. Just stay on the very top of the ridge and negotiate the cliffs and glaciers. I did it when I was younger." Now the pressure was on, and Future Dad wasn't going to back out now, especially with a cute girl nearby. "Alright, I'll try it again!" I proclaimed.
After a nice conversation, I hiked through stuff like this...
Mount Adams through a hidden arch! Naturally, I had to walk through it.
Finally atop Ives, I was pumped. Super pumped. Emotionally, I was feeling excellent. But on the descent something happened. It started with a few pebbles getting into my boots. They were in there hours ago, but due to my adrenaline rush and the inherent danger in an exposed hike like this I hardly noticed them. During the descent my rush was fading, and the pain was mounting. Every scree field on the way down seemed to pound more and more pebbles into the balls of my feet. I emptied my ankle-high boots a few times, but to no avail. The rocks found a way in.
After a few hours I finally made it back to the actual Pacific Crest Trail, but something was horribly wrong. I felt physically defeated for the first time on trail. I walked all the way from Canada to Goat Rocks in southern Washington with no problems... Until that descent.
I took off my boots after Cispus Pass. That's when I noticed the blood. My socks helped to stop the bleeding, but my toes were still oozing. Yes, it was gross.
After an attempt to wrap my feet with tape and moleskin, I could only move 2 more miles that day. I collapsed on trail and rolled off it to a small campsite with one spot left. It was only 5pm, my earliest campsite destination so far, but I needed to stop. Physically I could not move on. The other two spots were occupied by Lost and Found & All Day Long. We had our typical "Northbounder meets Southbounder" conversation. "Have you seen Tin Man, Magic, Impala, Bi-Polar, Kiester?" they inquired. Some I had, and some I had not. "What was your favorite part of the trail?" I asked robotically. I quickly added, "Mine was nearly today until I hurt my feet." It was All Day Long who told me then, "The trail will challenge you emotionally, physically, and mentally during your thru-hike." He also added, "What you need is Leuko tape, that stuff is the best when it comes to fixing blisters and caring for your feet." I didn't have Leuko tape. I didn't even have Half Jesus or Wildfire with me. I was in a bad place...
The mental part came that next morning. My two campsite friends left by 6am. I was afraid to look at my feet. They throbbed. I knew I wouldn't be able to put my boots on. I actually felt defeated. I thought, "Wow, maybe I can't do this. Maybe I won't make it to Mexico..." Nearly half of all thru-hikers who set out on this cross-country 2,650-mile quest never complete their journey. Injury plays a heavy factor.
I just laid in my sleeping bag. 7am. 8am. 9am. The hours went by. That's when I saw him. Bobbing along the trail with a great white beard was a man that All Day Long referred to last night. With the warmest of tones the man said, "Oh, hello down there!" "Are you 'Bi-Polar?'" I asked. "Yup, that's me!" Bi-Polar has an excellent reputation on trail. Everyone loves him. Hiking legends are praised along the trail, and word spreads about the not-so-friendly hikers too — sometimes hundreds of trail miles in both directions.
In addition to becoming a legendary character during this 2015 season, Bi-Polar apparently has a controversial blog. Find it if you can!
Even though he was pressing hard for Canada, Bi-Polar was more than generous with his time. We talked for an hour! We connected over other long-distance hiking trails, like the Ice Age Trail in Wisconsin. We talked about the negative consequences of hydrofracking. We talked about the fact that only 2.7% of the Lower 48 States is classified as wilderness. In the end, I saw him as a genuine man with a gentle soul. Unprompted, Bi-Polar asked how I was feeling. I told him about the sunset over Rainier, the herds of elk, the Knife's Edge, Old Snowy, the rock fall, the spry older man, my traverse, and the condition of my feet.
"You know, what you need Future Dad is some Leuko tape... And it just so happens that I have some for you. My feet don't blister anymore. You can have it."
It was as if a heavenly angel had descended upon my campsite. Just as quickly as he dispensed his unexpected trail magic, Bi-Polar was gone.
I finally removed my legs from my bag and applied the Leuko tape. I slipped into my hiking boots. It felt like stepping into comfy slippers on Christmas Day. That's when Wildfire wheeled around the corner, shocked to see me so soon. My reaction upon her timely arrival was joyous! Things came together perfectly... Almost too perfectly.
Wildfire and I hiked south. We hiked with gusto. We walked past Mount Adams, spent time in rural Trout Lake, encountered the most magnificent Trail Angels near Panther Creek Campground, and crossed Bridge of the Gods into Oregon together, with Half Jesus only a few hours behind!
If you'd like to see what the PCT in Washington State looks like, check out my original video via this link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=eTKVK7uib_A&feature=youtu.be
I'm in Oregon now, pushing south. Walking through Washington took me just under a month. 515 miles complete! Over 2,000 daunting miles to go! Ahead of me lies more hardship, more sunsets, more magic. The author Donald Miller wrote that, "The mountains themselves call us into greater stories." I can only hope that more of these future mountains are purple.
This is what I was looking for! The facebook stuff isn't enough! I wanted to see the fear and pain. I'm glad to have an example like you, to show me what being true to oneself looks like. :)
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