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Catching Firefly


The sun rose red over lingering smoke. The fire detour was as bad as they said it would be; super steep hills with mediocre views led to an unpleasant morning but I finally made it to the road, and after waiting 45 minutes for a hitch, I found myself at White Pass. My plan was to stay a few hours, get stuff done, and head back out. First order of business: find out if I could take off the first week of work. I took a deep breath and dialed the number. "Absolutely not." With those words, my hopes of a smooth finish were crushed and I felt the weight of time bear down on me. No decisions to be made, only miles to be hiked. I forced myself to accept reality and move on. I decided not to be angry at the deadline; the experience would be what I made of it. I could push against it and fight a losing battle or I could take it as it was. It was the attitude I would finish with. I was ready to head out immediately to start chipping away at the miles, but for one small roadblock: Firefly was in town.


I had hiked much of the Appalachian Trail with Firefly, and although she started less than a week before me on the PCT, I had yet to catch her. It had been an unspoken goal of mine to catch her before Canada and spend a few days hiking with her and her trail family. Based on pictures she posted and when she posted them, I knew I was getting close. I had a feeling she would be zeroing in Packwood, a bigger town down the road from White Pass. A quick phone call confirmed my suspicions, and I learned she was headed back to trail the following day. The problem was I couldn't afford to wait at White Pass until the next day in order to join her on the trail. There were miles to be done. I pondered the consequences of waiting for her, but decided to wait anyway, as I had been looking forward to a reunion all trail.


I hung out with Spygot and Southbound for the remainder of the day at the general store and camped there that night, pushing the the dread of long days to make up lost miles to the back of my mind.


 

I had a lazy morning, hanging out in the store until it came time to head out. Firefly and I had agreed to meet on-trail by a lake. I was supposed to be waiting for her there but I hadn't made it out of the store in time, and I assumed she was ahead of me. I flew up the trail, passing a few people who I recognized from pictures. I paused for a few moments to talk with them, found out they were Firefly's trail family, and quickly introduced myself. I learned Firefly was ahead, so I kept the meetings brief and took off to catch her.


I rushed to the lake where we were supposed to meet, only to discover that it was a much bigger lake than anticipated. In fact, it was two lakes, with multiple side trails to the waterfront. I quietly shouted for her, not wanting to disturb or alarm other hikers in the area. I double-backed to make sure I didn't accidentally pass her. I saw a blur of blur of blue before I found myself wrapped in a hug. The air was soon filled with non-stop chatter, and I joined her and her trail family for an early lunch. We hiked together the rest of the day, swapping stories and falling back into usual conversations. We talked until my throat was sore.

Firefly crossing a river

Firefly and I


Mount Rainier

There were incredible views of Mount Rainier. Clouds swirled thick around the mountain, and as we neared camp it started to sprinkle. We found a place among some trees and tucked in against the wind. After much deliberation we settled on where our tents should go and if we should save room for her trail family, as we were unsure if they would make it. As the light grew dim they joined us, and soon four tents were huddled together under the tall pines. We joked and bantered all evening.


 

Twelve days left. It was weird to have a countdown for the days, not miles. Days determined miles, miles didn't determine days. In a way it felt like I had just started, and in a way it felt like I hadn't started at all, that this was just some pleasant dream that would fade away the moment I woke.


I got up early and hiked with Firefly a bit before saying goodbye. I had to get some serious miles in, and hoped to catch up to Spygot and Southbound, who had moved on ahead. It was foggy out, and the mist made me damp and cold when I wasn't moving.



I stopped for lunch at a spring, wondering if Firefly would catch up and join me, but instead Spygot and Southbound rounded the corner as I was fixing to leave. I joined them for a while, keeping up with them for as long as I could before falling behind.

Rare shelter on the trail

I found them at the cabin. Although we had put in decent mileage for the day it was still early -- only 5:30, and I had been looking forward to a rare night in a shelter. The cabin was warm and dry, but a weekender had taken over the space, announcing that there was going to be a party there later. I really didn't fancy sleeping in the potential rain or packing up a wet tent, but I also didn't fancy laying awake all night with a loud party, so we moved a but up the trail and pitched our tents on the edge of the meadow. Cherishing every moment with good company, I talked with Southbound and Spygot until the cold drove us to the warmth of our sleeping bags.


 

Fake spider

It didn't rain, but when I woke the sky was a receding grey. I hiked well, not paying attention to elevation or mileage to come. The trail crossed a dirt road dozens of times, mostly following a ridge line before occasionally dropping down before climbing to another peak. I ate salmon berries, marveled at the new angles of Mount Rainier, walked through old burn areas that never recovered, and listened to podcasts. Spygot and Southbound caught up to me for lunch and then flew on ahead as I mosied along.

Southbound and Spygot
Huckleberries

I made good miles until I came to a huge huckleberry patch. I had eaten a few as I had hiked, but hadn't taken too much time to gather any. I dug out my talenti jar and started to fill it up with big ripe berries, picking as I hiked. It slowed me down greatly, but an hour later I had a pint filled to the brim. I cruised to camp, planning to eat dinner with the others before heading out for a few more miles, but was convinced to just stay. That seemed to be the trend lately-- always stopping earlier than I wanted to just to hang out. But it was getting dark.


 

It rained over night. I didn't sleep well, and when 5:00 hit my alarm vibrated me awake. I hit snooze but deflated my pad, laying on the cold hard ground for half an hour. Stopped early the day before, so I must leave early that day; that was the bargain I had made myself. So at 5:30 I started to stir, slowly packing up my things to keep them dry as possible.

My hands were numb. It spat rain on and off all morning. The sun would make and attempt to break through before darting back behind the clouds. Finally, I made it to town. I wandered the aisles in the Chevron station, filling my basket with junkfood for resupply when I heard Spygot call. I glanced out the door to see Steak arriving. In surprise, I dropped my basket and nearly tackled him in a hug; I hadn't thought I would see him again, ever.

We went to get pizza, Southbound, Steak, Spygot, and I. I told myself I would leave at 3:00. I had to. We ate until we were stuffed, lamenting the weather and using the wifi. I braced myself for 12 more miles of hiking in the cold rain. My feet were wet and muddy, my clothes damp and dirty. The others were planning on calling it a day and getting a hotel. It sounded wonderful, and I desperately wanted to join them. I did the math over and over again. If I stayed in town instead of hiking on, that meant I would have to hike one extra mile each day I had left. That number was nearing 30 mile days in some of the toughest terrain on the trail. But warmth, cleanliness, dryness, beds, friends... they egged me on to join them. I stared at the ceiling and sighed. I would do what I wanted now, and face consequences later. No regrets. "Count me in." They cheered.


The hotel was amazing- warm and clean and dry. When dinner rolled around we dashed to a nearby take-out restaurant. I stopped abruptly as I recognized some familiar faces under the dining pavilion- it was Firefly's family. I looked over at the door and saw her poke her head out. The two trail families met, and I said goodbye to Firefly for the second time. Goodbye. With the need for speed, it seemed like there would be a lot of those to come.



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