PCT Day 121
August 29, 2021
Mile: 2183.2 to 2206.3 via Panther Falls alternate (17.1 miles)
Start: Tropical Rainforest tentsite near Panther Creek
Finish: Busy Blue Lake tentsite nestled in huckleberries
Shannon and I set our alarm early to get out of the high traffic campsite area as soon as possible and onto the trail. We discussed the previous night about our options for hiking today as the next 16 miles of trail had little water, tough terrain through heavily wooded forests and few views. There was an alternate trail that we could take that went past a gorgeous series of waterfalls but it was a 10 mile road walk on pavement and gravel. We were leaning towards the waterfall alternate and made our decision final when we ran into a gaggle of PCT hikers hanging out next to Panther Creek. I accidentally scared a couple who were sitting underneath a tree next to the water source when I went to grab our food bags hanging off the bridge. I apologized but secretly was happy that they had no idea they were sitting only 100 feet from our campsite.
When I came back from the bridge, our buddy Twilight was there with his Trail Family and a friend from back home who was hiking with him for a few days. I chatted with all of them, pulsing them for what way they were going to hike today. It sounded like from the recent Guthook comments and hiker gossip that the 16 mile PCT was kind of crappy: little water, lots of elevation, no views and more than a couple recent mountain lion sightings. The 10 mile alternative Panther Creek Falls trail sounded much better: a good amount of water, gradual elevation on a low trafficked road, a spectacular waterfall that was supposedly better than the stunning Ramona Falls in Oregon, potential trail magic from people camping along the road and zero recent mountain lion sightings. That settled it for us – to the alternate trail we go!
Shannon and I cut through the woods to the fee-based Panther Creek Campground. We used their bathrooms instead of digging a cat hole and dumped out our trash in the dumpster before exiting the campground to the road. In Guthook, people had commented over the years about the various camp hosts ranging from super sweet PCT-loving Trail Angels to conniving individuals running a quasi-racketeering business extorting hikers for “donations” that went right into their pockets to creepy perverts who targeted women hikers. We steered clear of the camp host not knowing what type of person they might be and spilled out onto the main road where we walked facing traffic 5 miles to the Panther Creek Falls. A couple thru-hiker types were sitting in camp chairs on the side of the road eating a homecooked breakfast from what appeared to be a Trail Angel and we gave those lucky bastards a nod of the head as we walked by, inhaling the heavenly scents of eggs, sausage and bacon and imagining that we could get full off the smells of the food. Now I know why black bears are so attracted to campgrounds – unguarded, delicious smelling food just lying out there on a picnic table for you to eat. Yum yum yum!
On our way up the paved road to the waterfall we ran into a southbound PCT hiker who had a huge smile on her face. She told us that Panther Creek Falls was amazing and was so glad that she’d taken the alternate trail to the PCT here. This was great news and we were so pumped that we made it up to the waterfall in what seemed like no time. We left the pavement and ducked into the woods at the sign of the trail where we descended steeply to the upper falls. The first thing we noticed was a handmade memorial dedicated to a 23-year-old girl who had fallen to her death on the slippery cliffs. You always hear about these people who want to get the perfect selfie or get too confident balancing on the edge of the waterfall but then fall, becoming seriously hurt or die after succumbing to their injuries. It’s very sad and totally preventable. The waterfall here now had a very sturdy fence around the lookout and many posted signs warning hikers to not jump the boundary line due to the slippery cliffs.
We noticed a couple guys who had hopped the fence and were messing around in the slippery rocks underneath the torrents of the upper falls. Shannon and I hoped we wouldn’t see them washed away down the falls later. At the bottom tier of the waterfall, we set up on a flat spot and cooked some ramen for lunch while carefully filling our Smartwater bottles up. This was supposedly the only water source for the next 7 or 8 miles so we hydrated with electrolyte powder mixed with cold, clear and highly oxygenated waterfall water. As we sat with full bellies in our post-lunch happy haze, we soaked up the rays of sun that penetrated the high walls of the canyon and thick tree canopy. We never overheated even as the midday sun beat down on us because the mist from the cascades would blow over us in the mercurial ravine breezes cooling our skin. It was absolutely perfect. The bubbling sounds of the creek, the soft whispery drafts of wind blowing across our faces, the warm rays of sunshine and abundant snacks surrounding us made for a blissful siesta.
Shannon read his business book that he currently was really passionate about while I journaled. More and more visitors came to the moss-covered waterfall and when it got a little too crowded with Instagram-obsessed junkies jumping the fence to get the perfect selfie, we decided it was time to peace out and get back to hiking. Back up the steep hill we trekked with our fully-loaded backpacks now with 2 or 3 liters of water each and were soon spit out onto the busy road. Across from the trailhead was a crowded parking lot with dozens of loud, overweight tourists wearing flip flops for hiking shoes and toting tiny barking rat dogs that would’ve gladly served as appetizers for the local mountain lion population. We started to have a sensory overload with all chaos being around other humans and practically ran up the road away from the Panther Creek falls. I had to pee but there were so many people on the trail and on the paved road that we had to hike up a ways up to a forest service road so I could duck in the woods quickly to take care of business. I think we’ll probably stick to the main PCT route going forward instead of side treks using roadways.
The rest of the afternoon was spent dodging cars filled with tourists barreling down the winding mountain roads and shaking off the enormous spiderwebs that somehow spanned the entire roadway. At one point I got tangled up in one of the enormous webs crossing the two-lane mountain motorway and found to my extreme horror that there was a palm-sized spider clambering up the long strands of silky web next to my head. Yikes! I’m not normally scared of spiders but when a big ol’ arachnid that looks like it could eat small animals for breakfast practically falls on your face, it would be a bit of a jarring experience for even the most intrepid of adventurers. As I was trying not to have a panic attack pulling handfuls of spiderwebs off my body in the middle of the road, of course at that moment several cars came barreling down the winding pavement. We had two choices – 1) avoid the enormous hand-sized spiders dangling from the edge of the roadway but get run over by a car of blissfully unaware flip-flop wearing tourists or 2) jump headfirst into the forest where thick curtains of arachnids on steroids greeted us but at least we don’t get hit by a city slicker’s car and become dog food for their yappy little Chiweenies and Yorkiepoos. I rather like my life at this point so we jumped out of the way of oncoming traffic and into the Spider-Verse. Of the two evils, we’d rather get bit by the big ass spiders on the side of the road instead of being flattened by a car. Hey, maybe we’d end up spending the rest of our lives in a Tom Holland movie shooting weird silk out of our hands, sporting blue and red one-piece spandex suits and climbing up buildings. #LifeGoals
After dodging massive spiders and equally massive tourists in cars, we left the busy pavement and turned onto a dusty forest road. Supposedly this was the way to a campground parking lot where we’d meet back up with the PCT since we took a side quest to see Panther Creek Falls. Since it hadn’t rained in who knows how long, even taking small steps kicked up huge clouds of fine silty dust. When cars would come thundering down the sandy road, the air would be so thick with dust and grit that the sun would be blocked out temporarily and we could barely see 10 feet in front of us. It didn’t take long until Shannon and I were covered head to toe in dirt. My mouth dried out quickly on the hot, dry road and every time I would sip from my water bladder’s hose, the dust would turn to a thin layer of gritty mud in my mouth which was unappetizing to say the least. I tried to keep my mouth closed as I hiked but then started sneezing uncontrollably as dust was kicked up in huge thick clouds from passing cars. The brown snot dripping from my nose onto my handkerchief and clothes made me feel like a hot mess. After the 2nd or 3rd car sprayed us with dirt as it drove past us, we threw on our sunshirt hoods, pulled our Buffs up over our noses and mouths and tugged our sunglasses tight over our eyes so we wouldn’t be choking down dust. Even then we had to take a quick break at a campsite off the dirt road to collect ourselves and rest in the shade for a while.
After a quick break to blow thick clouds of snot out of our noses, mentally regroup and chow down on snacks, we hit the dusty road again where we were soon covered in even more grit from passing vehicles. We had seen a sign posted a while back to some ice caves where the temperatures were so cold in these old lava tubes that ice naturally formed all year round. I made myself pretend that I was down in the ice caves instead of getting baked by the sun and covered in grit by the passing cars and was able to force my feet to keep moving.
Finally we hit the PCT junction again after a long slog in the heat of the day and entered into the Indian Heaven Wilderness. A southbound PCT hiker asked us about the alternate trail so we gave him a run down of it but didn’t have the energy to hang around like he wanted us to do. We entered the thickets of tall pines and glorious shade where we sat to rest and chow down on more snacks. Shannon was super stinky for some reason and just as I went in to hug him celebrating that we made it, he let ‘er rip. Man, I thought the forest was going to burn down. I guess it’s just part of the joys of thru-hiking – the dirt, the creepy crawlies and the smells of the hikers.
The trail meandered through huckleberries and some very mushroom-y looking land. Signs were posted at the trailhead warning mushroom pickers that they must have a permit to forage in the Wilderness. We trekked through the woods, celebrating the 2,200 mile marker made out of long strands of moss and collected some water from a reedy pond. As I dipped my water bottle into the surprisingly clear water, I disturbed a small frog nestled in the nearby water plants. The frog went a little crazy and nearly swam right into my water bottle which I scooped up at the last second to save us both from an awkward situation. I can’t say I’ve ever drank up a frog before and I hope that I never do!
As the evening shadows started to lengthen, we were greeted by views of the towering peak of Mount Adams streaked with glaciers and snow. The dramatic volcanic mountain rose out of the soft low lying mists in the distance, surrounded by dark green forested hills and burned patches of lumber where wildfire had raked its burning claws not so many seasons ago. We had set our sights on camping at the very popular Blue Lake where we heard we might see wild mountain goats up in the rocky hillsides. Luckily it was a Sunday night so we were hoping the hoards of weekenders backpacking here would have cleared out by now and we could snag a spot.
It was still a bit crowded at the lake and initially we thought we found a good spot to camp near the water on top of a bluff. A loud splashing sounded from down below the cliffs along with some indecipherable muttering and more splashing. Puzzled, Shannon and I both looked at each other, set down our packs and carefully snuck closer to the edge to see what was going on at the lakeshore. Upon further inspection of the lake, we noticed a slightly deranged person throwing large rocks into the water, shaking their fists, jumping around and yelling in between taking hits of their vape. For a moment I almost thought it was a Sasquatch but I was pretty sure that Bigfoot doesn’t know how to smoke marijuana through a vape pen.
The person jumping around on the beach by themselves and shouting at the water in Ozzy Osborne style seemed a bit off for a PCT thru-hiker. We were only a few miles from a trailhead and thought maybe based on the person’s gear and mannerisms they were a day or section hiker. Our gut instincts told us to be wary and watch out for this weird person so despite having a wonderful campsite picked out, we left behind the strange creature to continue throwing rocks, rambling to themselves and occasionally yelling. It felt like he was a real-life version of Sméagol, jumping around like a lunatic and potentially might strangle us in our sleep. We got the heck out and headed down the trail a bit to put some distance between Sméagol and ourselves.
As the daylight faded, we peeked down what felt like every possible side trail and investigated every flat spot on the topographic map to see if there were any tent spots free. Even though it was a weekday tomorrow, it seemed like every campsite was filled. After scrambling up to a small pond surrounded by thick huckleberry and blueberry bushes, we finally found an empty tent spot away from the hikers with dogs, the weekend warriors and of course Sméagol throwing rocks in the lake. We set up tent on the soft pine needles, cooking up a delicious dinner and crawling into our tent as the wind picked up. It had been a long day and we were exhausted. The stars came out and the owls hooted softly in the mountainsides as we snuggled deep down into our sleeping bags and sleep overtook us.
