At 7:30 AM on a random Saturday in August, I parked my car in the overflow parking lot across the street from the Pacific Crest Trail inside of Mt. Rainier National Park. Fog still covered most of the trail as I slid on my pack, locked my car, and began mentally preparing myself for the journey before me. Based on reports, I knew I would spend the first two hours of my morning gradually climbing toward the gap separating Crystal and Sheep Lake. I also knew to expect an explosion of late summer wildflowers and sweeping vistas once I reached higher elevations.
I spent two-thirds of this hike on the Pacific Crest Trail. Behind and in front of me were weary hikers. Some were on thru-hikes that began months ago at the southern terminus of the PCT. Others were hopscotching around, sewing together their own adventure. Behind and in front of me were weary hikers, accomplishing a dream that once upon a time was an all-consuming thought in my life. As we hiked on a ridgeline overlooking an expansive valley filled with evergreen trees before turning toward Crystal Lake, jealousy and a little sadness came over me. At some future point, I will heal and get over this magical stretch of trail.
Near the one-hour mark, I arrived at Crystal Lake to find overnight campers rustling awake and emerging from their nylon homes. Fog was bobbling away from the lake to higher ground. I pulled out my camera, snapped some photos, and experienced that feeling all of us hikers chase; a feeling of being the luckiest person in the world.
From there, I continued the climb up toward the Sourdough Gap. Here, the elevation steepens. Hikers must earn the prize waiting on the other side. As I climbed, I stopped to rest, but I also stopped to fully appreciate the intoxicating valley and vista stretching before me. Once again, a feeling of sheer luck.
Standing on the gap, the trail falls into a valley. Right in front of me were three young women. All were hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. They were discussing politics and I could not help but listen to their conversation. My aim was not to judge their political stance, but to taste some conversations that could have been mine had my PCT family had been granted an opportunity to form fully.
Not long after crossing the gap, the trail diverges. The Pacific Crest Trail stretches into the valley. I headed for another gap before hiking down to Sheep Lake. I silently wished my fellow hikers the best of luck. They did not know it then and they will never discover the truth, but for a moment, I lived through them and their journey.
I continued to the second gap. Cresting the ridge, I saw my prize. Before me, there was a beautiful lake surrounded by trees and mountains. If there is a grand design to the universe, placing this lake in this valley in this setting almost serves as proof.
Descending for what seemed like forever, I eventually found myself sitting lakeside. My pack slid off my back, the cool air kissed the sweat that had accumulated, and a chill ran up my spine. I sought refuge in a hoodie and a few snacks to restore my energy.
As I breathed in this moment, sunshine fully engulfed the valley and burned away any remaining fog. As it did, Mt. Rainier revealed itself to me. At that moment, it felt so close, like I could reach out and grab a snowball from its white peak. Staring at a mountain that hypnotizes so many, I thought, This is why you move here! This is why you put up with nine months of rain, gray clouds, and dreariness that seems without end.
Snapping photos and drinking the entire scene in, I knew I could not linger. I wanted to stay forever, but the call of responsibilities and the doldrums of life were demanding me home. As I reversed course, everything previously experienced was now awash with sunlight. It felt like an entirely different place. From Sourdough Gap, the reverse hike is all downhill. For the next two hours, I passed countless hikers on a journey of their own. Reaching a parking lot brimming with cars and people, the mass of humanity blew me away. Young and old, male and female, shades of all kinds, had chosen the same spot as me. I wished them well, tossed my pack into the trunk of my car, and drove back toward reality.
Be good to each other,
Nathan
