When I saw the water cache I realized that I’d hiked five miles in the wrong direction. The sun had found its way out from behind clouds and I felt light on my feet after a long night’s sleep.
But when I turned around to retrace my steps the sky grew dark, the clouds thick, and the temperature dropped. As if all of creation was telling me that I was heading in the wrong direction.
The delay meant that my hope of summiting Mount Theilsen was no longer possible. I’d be hiking over the highest point in Oregon, and the weather seemed to be conspiring against me. The higher I went the colder and wetter became the uphill battle.
Despite the urgency to push miles, the weather required a measured pace. Too slow and you’d freeze, too fast and you’d start to sweat, and that can be dangerous in cold weather.
With elevation came cell service, and news of the full extent of the storm. Sub freezing temperatures and snow for the next few days. That wasn’t good.
At the high point of the Pacific Crest Trail in Oregon it started to snow. Measured pace be damned, I ran the five miles towards the lowest elevation I could find. Less than a thousand feet lower but I hoped it would make a difference.
Huddled under my two foot tall poncho tent I listened to the rain turn to snow., back and forth through the night. The possibility existed that this could be it. The end of the hike, the end of me.
I didn’t want either one to be true, but I was having a harder time letting go of the hike rather than being concerned about my own safety.
Living is the greatest adventure, and I was having a blast.
#nothanks #PCT #Oregon