What a weird group of girls we camped with last night. No one talked. I was in camp with 4 women…awake…and it was quiet. I usually get very nervous if Bunny doesn’t talk. 9 times out of 10, that means I’ve pissed her off and there’s a good chance I’m going to die in my sleep if I am stupid enough to doze off in the night. I wasn’t too worried tonight. Bunny was still whispering to me. I was so brave, I even took a Benadryl. Let the knife cutting commence.
The day started pleasant enough (once we got away from the mysterious women we camped with—seriously, it was like the Stepford Wives). The first two miles were flying by. We were making good time. And then, the flies started. Head nets work with mosquitoes…their high pitched buzz can’t be heard unless they are right in your ear. Head nets don’t work with flies. They have a lower pitch and continually circle your head for hours at a time droning on and on like a long series of political tweets that just never stop and are total nonsensical. It will drive any intelligent person insane. It’s so bad that, so called religious, moral people will use god’s name in vane and vote for a rapist just to get it to stop. But it doesn’t stop. It never stops. Please make it stop. Shoot me. For the love of god, make it stop. I can’t take it any more.
I was willing to try anything to take my mind off of the bugs. At the top of the climb we came to a level area where we ran into 3 old guys. Let’s clarify, they were about our age. There was a little breeze so we could cool off while talking. These three were on bucket list trip. This section of trail from Stevens Pass to Snoqualmie is a very popular section. I suggested they might expand their bucket to include section hiking the entire PCT.
We saw a nobo taking a dip in a water hole on a creek. It looked inviting to me, but the creek was almost 15’ off the trail. Bunny didn’t want to cover the extra distance to the creek and back since we would eventually cross the creek on the trail. When we did encounter the creek, we tried to take a break near it, it the f-ing flies ruined it. I think of flies as the Mitch McConnel of bipartisan legislation—no matter how good it appears to 90% of the population, the demon spawn will ruin it.
Throughout yesterday and today, we have been leapfrogging with Zena and Exon. They had pretty much ignored us thinking that we were just old people out doing a section hike. We talked with Zena for a while today about how long we’ve been out here this year. At the top of the pass, they introduced us to another member of their group. It was Cougar Bait, who we had met at Paradise Cafe way back in April. We recognized her right away because she had also had a buff from High Tails Design with bunnies on it. My wife NEVER forgets a bunny. If you are willing and bored, she can give you every bunny sighting she’s ever had throughout her life…she’s a bunny savant.
I only had one option left with the bugs. I wore my ear plugs to block out fly sound and pulled my buff down over my ears to keep them in place. This helped me tremendously knowing that the little politicians (excuse my language, I know this is supposed to be a G rated blog, but I can’t think of a more terrible name to call them) would no longer be able to physically get in my ear canals. The only problem was, I could still hear Bunny farting because it was such a low, penetrating frequency. I tried to let it go for a while which only emboldened her. I had to tell her I could still hear her. Since I knew I was going to either be gassed to death and overheated or annoyed to death from sound, I took my earplugs back out only to discover it wasn’t Bunny’s farts I was hearing, but my own tooty poops.
There was a major creek crossing ahead of us that just amazed me. We had been watching the snow fields above us all day and now we were coming to a bursting creek that had been snow just this morning. The volume of water contained above us is simple astounding and this is just one little mountain out of thousands. And not even a glaciated mountain like Rainier which has several rivers flowing down it. It’s occurrences like this that amaze me and keep me motivated to hike seeing the unleashed power of nature.
We were both dragging after the creek and we still had 5 miles to go with a 1200’ gain. Bunny needed reviving. I knew just what she needed. I handed her the hand trowel and pointed to a section of woods where she could have some privacy. A few minutes later, she emerged with a few dozen more mosquito bites on her butt, but with a lighter pep in her step. She was able to complain again and was not walking as stiff. We can make it.
Late in the day, we decide to stop near a lake for a late lunch. I think 10 seconds in, they have swarmed us. I imagine, in my mind, that I’m calm, cool, and calculating like Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) in The Godfather. I don’t reveal my emotions. I just take it in and reveal nothing on the exterior while I plot the revenge and eventual extermination of all my enemies (mosquitoes and flies). This keeps me calm for almost 20 seconds until Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) in Goodfellas, takes over my psyche as I go after the mosquitoes with the same vengeance Pesci uses to shoot the underage bartender in the face who offended him. I’m possessed. The only possible explanation for my meltdown is that reincarnation must be real. In a previous life, I must have been one of the “Save the Children” bloated, starving kids with flies in his eyes that Sally Struthers paraded to raise money. I’m not going down with flies in my eyes a second time.
The last mile and a half were terrible with flies and mosquitoes. We passed some old guys camping (actually old guys with gray hair, I mean, er, older than Bunny even, leave my hair color out of this) and they told me the mosquitoes were atrocious at the Deception Lakes. I didn’t want to believe them (or for Bunny to hear) because she’d want to stop and I needed to get some mileage out of the old gal. When we saw a sobo coming towards us with his collar up around his face and completely covered up, there was no denying we were headed into a hellish storm ahead. I put my head net back on, but Bunny remained overly optimistic.
I unilaterally have taken Washington off the list of states we’re considering to live in once we get done hiking. I ok’d it with Bunny first. My reasoning is simple and not complex (I am a male, logic runs deep with my type). There’s only 3 good months out of the year and then 2 1/2 of those months are ruined by insects. We’ll just vacation in WA the two good weeks in the year if it’s there’s not a fire. The only times I’ve ever considered quitting a hike have always involved mosquitoes, gnats, and/or flies. I even heard Bunny dropping f-bombs the closer we got to Deception Lakes.
Bunny had delusions of washing off in the lake, but as soon as we got the tent set up, she went straight into it. I, on the other hand, sacrificed my mental stability got eaten alive while getting water. Normally, you don’t hear mosquitoes unless they are right in your ear. Tonight, we went to bed with high pitched hum of mosquitoes all around us. Both of us were too afraid to get out and pee. I’ve carried a Gatorade bottle all the way from Portland for mixing drinks in. I’ve grown very attached to that bottle, but it has a large neck. Tonight, I may lose my water bottle.
The only deception here is that the lakes are pleasant and insect repellant works. Both assumptions are incorrect. The only good thing I discovered today is that no matter how dirty your glasses are, when you take off the head net, the glasses feel like brand new lenses and your vision is sharp again. For me: Washington, dead. Alaska, dead. Niedermeir, dead. Did we stop when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no! We’re going to finish this trail in Washington and quite possibly never come back to this state…unless Bunny overrules me. It, too, happens. A lot.
EFG