Number 1 rule of trail towns is not to check out early. We nailed it. Bunny insisted upon sleeping in, eating a big breakfast, making use of the facilities, showering one more time (hard to believe there was a time when we showered 7 days a week), and then packing up. We turned in the keys at 11:01…bonus time!
It’s over 30 miles from Leavenworth to Stephens Pass. Fortunately, there’s only a single road between the two points so all cars heading out of town should be heading there. Not even 5 minutes before we got our first hit. It was a couple near our age (I’ve started taking off my hat so people can see it’s just an harmless old man, nothing to be afraid of here) that pulled over and said they were heading up to a park almost halfway to the pass. That sounded ok because from that point on, there are no other side roads. We jumped in.
I tried to make conversation but was having a hard time getting them involved. She tried, but her husband wasn’t the least bit interested in talking. He warmed up after a while when he told us he hadn’t picked up any hitchhikers in over 20 years, but we looked harmless enough. I told them the story of the woman and her daughter that picked us up on the Oregon Coast Trail. They said they could tell we were safe to pickup because I wasn’t good looking enough to be a serial killer. When they dropped us off, he did thank me for not being a serial killer.
We needed another hitch for the final 19 miles to the pass. Bunny stood by the exit to the gas station while I went past the intersection to catch people heading up from the state park. Once again, it took less than 5 minutes before a white pickup turned onto the highway and pulled over. I told the driver we were trying to get to Stevens Pass. He asked “what we” he only saw me. I pointed out my wife walking towards us. He said ok and started rearranging things in the truck for us to fit.
It felt a little awkward, but a ride is a ride. Once again, I tried to get a conversation going, but the guy had difficulty forming complete sentences. His driving wasn’t erratic, but his speed did vary quite a bit. After a couple of miles, he said “I’m going to pull off a second.” It’s state law in WA that if more than 5 cars get behind you, you need to pull over and let them pass which is what we did. In another few miles, he, once again, said “I’m going to pull over.” I thought it a little strange since we now had two lanes in our direction, but I didn’t object. By this time, we had gathered that he had grown up and lived his whole life in this area. I was just expecting him to pull over to the shoulder again, but he turned off onto an old gravel road. Bunny turned white (not uncommon for bunnies), but I was also uneasy.
We turned down an old gravel road and he said “this won’t take but a few minutes. I just want to show you around a little. We’re almost to the pass.” I wasn’t too happy about the prospect of being on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere with someone I didn’t know. We came to an old bridge and he said “it’s just on the other side of the bridge.” We said not to cross the bridge, but he ignored us. Bunny makes me watch a lot of Forensic Files, 20/20, and Dateline when we go in town so I’m a bit on edge. Bunny is shaking.
We crossed the bridge and then he stopped and put the truck in park and said “let’s get out here. We can see the old railroad tunnel down in the woods. It won’t take but a minute to walk down there.” My head is spinning. There’s no way I’m getting out of the truck to go to a tunnel with someone acting as strange as he had been on the ride up. When he opened the door, I said “This is making us a bit uncomfortable. Could we please just head on up to the pass? We are not going to get out of the truck here.” Bunny added “We’re short on time. We’re supposed to be meeting friends at the trailhead.”
He didn’t object and didn’t get out of the truck. I was afraid to have him stand up or get out of my reach in case he had a gun under his seat or on his body. If he were sitting, we could see if he went for a gun. He just smirked a bit and said “I understand. There’s all kind of weird people around. We’ll just get you up to the pass.” But instead of turning around where we were, he drove on further up the road. He did turn around and we tried to keep the conversation light and not show our discomfort, but sirens were going off in both our heads.
He drove us on up to the pass and pulled into the lot right to the trailhead. I tried to open the door, but I couldn’t unlock it as long as the car was not in park. He tried to tell us which way to go (which was the opposite of where we were headed) and we thanked him for the advice. I saw some people at the trailhead and said that looked like our friends (it wasn’t). He put the car in park and we jumped out, grabbed our stuff, shook his hand, and thanked him for the ride. I’m sure the whole thing was innocent enough, but the whole thing had scared the shit out of both of us.
As evidence that we were adrenalined up, we covered a mile and a half of trail in 20 minutes. It was the most scared we have ever been during the two and a half years we have been traveling/hiking. This includes last year when we had a 17 year old kid driving us back from the Yuengling Brewery texting the entire time. Once we calmed down a bit, we came up with some new guidelines we are going to follow when we hitch: 1) the phone stays on us the entire time (we had left it in the backpack), 2) the tracker is on and tracking and stays on the pack (the driver probably doesn’t even notice our tracker. Today, we hadn’t turned it on. It wouldn’t help us, but it might be able to locate our bodies if something were to happen). 3) the pocket knife is on me and not in the pack (it’s not much, but it is something to help in defense). 4) we openly take a picture of any vehicle we get into and its license plate and text it to Digit Alice so that the driver is aware that someone knows where we are (and we will send an all clear text when we arrive at our destination). 5) we will encourage the driver to take our picture and text it to someone they know for their own protection. 6) if we look in the vehicle and feel uncomfortable because the driver is impaired, drinking, or gives us a bad vibe, we will say “stupid me, I forgot (something) at the hotel. I’ve got to go get it. Thanks for stopping and sorry to inconvenience you.” (We did take a ride from a guy that was drinking whiskey while driving. I made sure to sit next to him to grab the wheel if he lost control. It was also a stressful ride).
Charcoal B and Struggles had signed the trail log just ahead of us. We didn’t know what time they had started, but we felt confident that we knew where they would camp. We hoped to catch up with them before the day was done. It only took us about an hour and a half to spot them ahead of us (covering 3 miles the first hour on the trail helped out quite a bit). We walked with them the rest of the afternoon. We were all headed to the same spot for the night.
They had spent all of yesterday hitching to Bellevue to buy a new tent. They are no longer Big Agnes fans after their tent failure. Now, they have a new MSR tent and I feel that I will no longer be able to pee on it in the night since the BA logo is missing. It was a pleasure to catch up and hike with them throughout the afternoon.
Rain had been predicted for today, but it was only cloudy while we were out. There is evidence that it had rained over night because of the muddy sections of trail and big puddles we found along the way. We were happy to have their calming presence after our hitch out. To be honest, I don’t remember much of the trail up to where we camped.
There were several people already spread in the camping areas around the lake. We found the biggest spot that only had one other person in it and asked to be near him. Super Dave (not the same Super Dave we met on the AT last year) turned out to be a former special forces alumni with ranger training. He had been in the army back in the 80s and saw duty in Central America when Reagan was president. I feel secure once again in camp (as long as I don’t piss him off—no politics tonight).
We did hear from Wolf, yesterday. He actually just passed us up while we were in Leavenworth. We were expecting him to pass us before we got to Stehekin. He is killing it on the trail right now. I’d have loved to have Wolf with us today on our gravel road escapade. He has the attitude that unless someone has a gun pointed at his face, he’s not the least bit worried. He can handle any situation. He’s a ranger full bird colonel, retired. There’s not much that he hasn’t seen. The only concern I ever had hiking with him is that I’d piss him off. I refrained from singing around him. I went to Catholic school for 12 years and my singing voice would rile up the nuns. Keep my mouth shut around military bad asses.
I spread out the tyvek for us to eat on. Struggles, Charcoal B, Bunny, and I had a picnic supper. It was just what Bunny and I needed to return us to “trail normal” (that’s the closest I get to normal, and it’s not too close to the standard definition of such). Bunny and I talked of our first date and how I discovered she was just one day shy of being 8 months older than me. I asked her what my birthday was (hers is February 3…I’m still not sure if she’s figured out my birthday yet since it, kind of, involves math—that was almost 10 years ago). If she tries to do math in her head while we’re hiking, I stop her before she can walk off a cliff.
We ended supper with the story of Bunny trying to figure out my middle name which starts with a “J”. She named every possible “J” she could come up with, except for my name (which is John). She even tried to slip in Javier like that’s a normal German name. Before bed, I went to get water for breakfast. The lake is quite shallow close to the shore, so I stepped on a log so I could reach a bit further out. When I stepped off, my croc slipped off my foot and started floating away in the lake. Day 1 back out and I’m almost out of dry socks.
EFG
OMG that ride!!! You are right that it was probably innocent, but you’re already taking chances by hitching, and to have so many red flags go off!! We’ve thankfully never had experiences like you guys, although I think it makes us complacent.
Yes, that was our first, and only bad experience. We’ve gotten very lucky. It helps that we are a couple. I worry more about solo female hikers.