After more than five months on the Pacific Crest Trail, I had one more resupply, and one more push to get through the North Cascades of Washington and into Canada. Lucky for me, since I was arriving a little later in the season, the PCT and the town of Stehekin had just reopened, after previously being closed and evacuated due to forest fires. Now, the trail north was smooth sailing all the way to Canada, and re-entering the PCT through Stehekin was very special for me.
Stehekin, Washington is a remote mountain village situated at the far west end of Lake Chelan. Eighty-five residents live there year-round and the only way to get in and out is to walk, take a float plane or the ferry from Chelan, Washington. I opted for the ferry and enjoyed the three-hour boat ride up the lake with other PCT hikers, and all the daily supplies and groceries for the community members. On the day we arrived, smoke was still blowing in from distant forest fires.
Stehekin is known for two things: its beautiful natural setting, and its bakery. Revered up and down the PCT, I headed to the bakery for all things yummy!
The next morning, the skies cleared, the fall colors highlighted the trail and I headed north, on my way to Canada!
Within two days, I arrived at Rainy Pass and Hwy 20 crossing North Cascades National Park. It was so beautiful climbing up through Cutthroat Pass and into the Pasayten Wilderness.
One thing I have to mention is that the National Forests and Parks of Washington State have provided more bridges and backcountry toilets than anywhere else on the PCT. I know we’re supposed to be having this rugged, wild experience out here on the trail, but bridges and toilets sure made our life easier and I really appreciated both.
It’s only 60 miles between Rainy Pass to the Canadian Border, but I wanted to enjoy these last days, so I stretched that into about five hiking days and ran into a grand variety of weather conditions. One moment sunny and warm, the next foggy, rainy and cold. But each day brought more expansive views, colourful sub-alpine meadows, and a well-trodden trail. Many hikers who complete the PCT touch the Northern Terminus and then return the 30 miles back to a road at Hart’s Pass in the United States. It was fun to see old friends and congratulate them along this short section as they headed back south. I had already arranged my visa and planned to continue north, crossing into Canada. I found my pace quickening the closer I got to the border.
And then I turned a corner, and the tears started to flow. I did it. I had made it to Canada.
There would be some purists who would say that I didn’t really hike the PCT because I skipped a bunch of miles in Northern California and around the fires. But I did hike 1,700 miles between Mexico and Canada, and I think that’s amazing. With a sprained ankle slowing me down, and winter settling in to Northern Washington, I wouldn’t have wanted to arrive at the northern border any later in the year. I hiked the hike I wanted to. I had a journey of a lifetime.
I walked and strolled through, and clambered up some of the most dramatic places in my country; I will never forget the oppressive feeling of the helicopters and the inhospitable landscape at the Mexican border, the neon-bright cactus blooms of the desert region in springtime, the angled light and the granite peaks of the Sierra Nevada, the shocking and exhilarating cold of the crystalline alpine lakes, the meadow flowers towering over my head around Lake Tahoe, the green moss carpets and lichen-enshrouded trees of Oregon, the mushrooms and foggy ridge-line vistas of Washington, and my first site of the PCT monument at the Canadian Border.
On the way, I met so many remarkable people and experienced the incredible generosity of others as we cared for and helped each other with companionship, a good deed, a little trail magic, or a shoulder to lean on. It was such a thrill to round a corner along the trail and have someone remember “Spice” with a smile. I’m so grateful to them all.
I pushed myself hard through the relentless heat, high river crossings and constant elevation changes. I carried a backpack, probably heavier than most, and never complained because at its core, the simplicity of life on the trail is the life I chose. I laughed, I cried, and I came out the other side knowing two things: I’m stronger than I thought and I didn’t have to wait so many years to make my dreams come true.
I also learned something remarkable along the way. A hiker from the Netherlands saw my last name: Wandell. She pronounced it correctly and I remarked that it should be an easy name for her, because it is Dutch. Then she told me something remarkable. The root of my last name is “Wandel”, which means “I hike”.
Yeah. I hike.
In 2024, I hiked the PCT. I’m so grateful that I was able to have this incredible adventure, and I know I’m a better person for it. To me, that’s all that really matters.
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