Running Section J Southbound on the PCT

It's been three days, and I am still trying to gain perspective on what I did last weekend. I know in the trail running world, it's probably not that big of a deal. In fact, when I was training, I encountered someone who ran Section J in one day. But all I know is me, and I have decided that for me, my fastpack on the PCT was quite an accomplishment. The experience built character, confidence, mental and physical toughness, and pride. I spent four months building a training base of 20-mile long runs, and then I trained for seven months after that, all for something that was over in two days. It feels a little strange.

Below is a video with all the pictures and videos from my fastpack of Section J.

Best parts
Hands down, the best part was simply doing what I set out to do. I can't believe I ran and hiked 73 miles in two days! Many times after a long training run in the Issaquah Alps, I'd think, "Can I really go out and do twice as much in one day, followed by 20 miles the next day?" I pushed those doubts to a far corner in my mind, and marched ever onward with my training plan. It was remarkable what my mind was able to convince my body to do. Once I got out there, not completing it was simply not an option.

I am under three miles from finishing. John met me on the trail and brought food and water.

My favorite places were the beginning of the climb to Pieper Pass and the climb through the Waptus Burn. It's likely that I would have more places to include had there been no smoke, but these two places were beautiful for what they were close up, not a distant view. I put the best pictures of these two places in a previous post, but here are two different ones.

Pieper Pass climb

Waptus Burn

Elevation gain and loss
This was probably the toughest thing about the fastpack. Though I trained for elevation gain and loss that was comparable to what I would be doing on the PCT, I was still sore at the end of the first day. Normally, it takes a day for soreness to show up. I did my best to hike the steep parts and run the easier climbs and descents, as well as the flat parts. From both my research and personal experience, that is the wisest thing to do, or you'll trash your quads. Despite this, my quads were definitely trashed the first day. There were 10 climbs near or above 5,000 feet. Two were near 6,000 feet, and twice I went below 3,200 feet (in addition to a starting point of 4,062 feet and a finish at 3,022 feet). That's a lot of ups and downs. None of the climbs were terribly steep. Most were moderate. It seemed to me like the climbs were more gradual going southbound, so I am glad I chose that direction. Would I change anything about my training? For the most part, no. I would probably do a few more runs on the PCT starting at Snoqualmie Pass heading north just to get accustomed to the ruggedness of parts of the trail.

Going southbound, day 1 had 12,430 feet of elevation gain and 11,130 feet of elevation loss in 47.5 miles. Day 2  had 5,670 feet of elevation gain and 8,000 feet of elevation loss in 27.5 miles.

I passed signs like this many times throughout the fastpack. The smoke was the worst above 5,000 feet.

Trail and terrain
After having run 15 miles out from Snoqualmie Pass (to just above Park Lakes) and then back for a training run, I was worried the terrain on the trail was going to be rough the entire way, as that is how most of the way to Park Lakes is. I was delighted to find that most of the trail was quite runnable. It was enjoyable to run! I felt my feet and joints were well prepared for the technicality of the trail.

Much of the trail looked like this!

Camp
Making camp was the highlight of the journey. I knew when I reached the halfway point, the bridge at Spade Creek, (what I called "The Bridge of No Return"), I was not going to make my 50-mile destination before nightfall. I called it The Bridge of No Return because my husband and I agreed that if I made it beyond that bridge and had a problem, I would continue toward Snoqualmie Pass, and he would start from there and head north. If I hadn't made it to the bridge and had a problem, then I would head back for Stevens, and he would head south towards me from there. At any rate, I knew I could at least get up and over Escondido Ridge before it got dark, and then I would look for a campsite somewhere around 45 miles.

The climb up the ridge is six and a half miles, and while gradual and often runnable, it seemed to go on forever. There are several false summits, and I knew the ridge crested at 43.3 miles according to the map, but my watch was telling me I had already gone 43 miles, and I wasn't there yet. I finally got over the ridge at 8:15 pm, exactly as I had estimated. Daylight was departing fast, and I encountered a sign that said, "Please do not camp for the next two miles; sensitive area." I peeked at my watch and vowed not to camp until two miles had passed.

By 8:39, I had to pull out my mini headlamp, which I brought for camp, not hiking or running in the dark. I held it low, and it did pretty well. I only stumbled a few times. By 8:50, it was completely dark, though a half moon gave enough light for me to see the silhouettes of trees against the sky. I hoped out loud numerous times to get out of the sensitive area, which turned out to be the Lemah Burn of 1994, and find a flat spot to bag down.

I began the switchbacks down the ridge and soon, after getting past two miles, I saw a bright light ahead. I was happy to see two thru hikers with headlamps making their way north. They were headed for the ridge top to camp, and they told me that if I was desperate, there was a flat-ish spot about .2 of a mile away. I was desperate indeed, as it was 9:30 at this point and I knew John and my friends and family following along would be getting worried. It wasn't but one or two switchbacks later that I entered the forest and found a spot big enough and flat enough for me to camp. It wasn't really a campsite, but it would do.

I removed my vestpack and set it down against a log, taking out everything I would need for camp and placing everything food related inside my pack. By this time, it was 9:45 pm, and I was happy to have stopped moving. I changed into my sleeping clothes and put my running shirt inside my pack since I spilled Perpetuem on it. I then hung up my pack on a huge branch of a fallen tree, which took a while because I pulled the wrong end of the cord I brought and it ended up a bird's nest. Pack secured, I set up my "tivy" (bivy-tent), which meant staking the front two corners and the top center, and placing my running pole up the middle. By 10:45, I was inside my sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable.

Even though camp was above 5,100 feet and I could see my breath, it was a warm night. I left my sleeping bag open most of the night and didn't wear my down hood. Instead, I used it and my shorts, socks, and running bra inside my sleeping bag stuff sack as a pillow. I took 3 mg of time-release melatonin and acetaminophen with codeine. I slept, but not very well, constantly turning to try to get comfortable. I found sleeping on my side tough because one leg laying atop the other made the leg on bottom ache, and sleeping on my back made the backs of my knees and lower back hurt. Eventually, I slept well enough to dream. I was awakened at one point by voices, and turned to watch as two runners went by with headlamps. It was 11:55 pm.

I got up at 6:05, eager to see just what my camp looked like. I was pleased to see that my pack was hung safely a good distance away, and my tent was in a reasonably flat spot. I was just out of the burn area, too. While I packed up camp, I boiled some water to hydrate some freeze dried risotto. Even though it sounds like a rough night, it wasn't. I was pleased with my tivy, which breathed well and had no condensation, and also happy with how unafraid I was.

I had already taken the stakes out, so my tivy is collapsed, but you can see how the spot was just big enough for me.

Food
This is one area that needs work. I brought 18 servings of Perpetuem for both days, the idea being I would have one every hour. Perpetuem is a powder you mix with water. I like it as a thin paste that I can sip. I also had Tailwind, which I mixed in my drinking water to give me carbs and electrolytes. For solid food, I brought three wraps made from mini, three-inch tortillas, almond butter, and banana slices. I also had vegan jerky and two freeze-dried meals.

I was happy with the Perpetuem and Tailwind. I would not put banana inside the wraps except for maybe the first one to be eaten. The bananas started to ferment and were gross. The jerky was great, and I loved the risotto. I am sure I would have also loved the spaghetti, but I never got to eat it.

My plan was to eat two wraps spaced out during the first day, snack on the jerky, and put what was left of it in my risotto when I stopped to make dinner. The only problem was that I never stopped to make dinner. I just didn't have time. Instead, I ate the third wrap and didn't have the risotto until morning. I made it at camp and then let it steep while I ran to South Lemah Creek. It was one of the best breakfasts I've ever had, simply because I was happy to be eating a real meal. I never stopped to make the spaghetti since I was already two hours behind schedule the second day and didn't want to be too late in case John wasn't getting my Spot tracks and was waiting for me for hours at Snoqualmie Pass.

Next time, I will bring fewer wraps, more savory snacks, and make sure that I plan for no more than 40 miles of running in one day. That way, I can have enough time to stop and cook a dinner.

Water, a related topic, went well. I had made a list of year-round water stops and their mileage, as well as landmarks and junctions. Unfortunately, I lost this piece of paper somewhere before Mig Lake, which was only 7.5 miles in. I went from memory and only had one time when I ran out of water on Cathedral Pass. Within 30 minutes, I made it to Spinola Creek where I filled up my water bladder. My Katadyn Be Free soft bottle with a filter built into the lid is fantastic!

Gear
I am extremely happy with several of my gear items: Z-Packs 30 down sleeping bag, Katadyn Be Free water bottle, homemade tivy, Garmin Fenix 5X GPS watch, Merrill Agility Peak trail shoes, Black Diamond Z-Pole, Ultimate Direction bladder, Montbell down jacket, and Ibex Woolies 3 pants. Particularly, I love the Katadyn Be Free water bottle. The filter is built into the lid, which also has a cap so you don't have to worry about contaminating the part you are going to drink from. It was so refreshing to be able to drink to my thirst's quench after dipping the bottle into a freezing cold creek. I also used it to fill my bladder; I could easily squirt the water into it from the bottle. Also, my Garmin watch came through for me whenever I needed it--and I did need it a couple of times. The trail to Peggy's Pond was unmarked, and I also started down a trail to a lake once by mistake. I was able to right my course quickly with the Fenix 5X. I also was pleased with my shoes--remarkably, my feet didn't hurt after the first day. I did develop a blister on the inside of my left heel, which has never happened before.

The GoPro Session 5 performed well. Weighing in at two and half ounces, and being only one inch square, it was the perfect camera to take. I took over a hundred photos and more than a dozen videos. The color and exposure are a bit flat, but the videos are smooth. Since John installed the update from last year, it has worked perfectly.

I was satisfied with my HydraPak Flow water bottle for mixing Perpetuem in, my Ultimate Direction Fastpack 20, my Roadrunner 8-inch compression shorts, and most of my other clothes. The water bottle was fine, but if I squeezed it too hard by squishing into my vest pocket with too much Perpetuem in it, it leaked out the top. I just had to be careful. My vestpack is a great size, but the fit just isn't quite right. It isn't women's specific, so it tended to shift to one side or another if there was any imbalance to how I had it packed. Ultimately, my pack was too heavy for me at eight pounds, 13 ounces fully loaded--but that's not the pack's fault. It did chafe on my back on the left side where the bottom of the pack rubbed against me, but I think that was more the fault of the shirt I was wearing. The rest of my clothes performed fine.

I can't say for sure that the Spot Gen 3 Satellite Messenger performed badly, because it's performance may have been my fault. I thought much of the way would be in forest, but the forest was subalpine so the Spot should have easily sent tracks every 10 minutes like it was supposed to. The tracks were sporadic at best, and while all the OK messages I sent came through, people had hours without knowing where I was. However, I had it in the mesh pocket of my vest, and that probably prevented it from sending a signal. I tried it on the outside of my pack on my shoulder on the Cascade Pass to Stehekin run, but it flopped too much and made my collar bone sore. This is something I will need to work on if I do another run.

I was unhappy with my running shirt from Athleta. I chose it because it was white, had an SPF of 50, and was loose fitting. White and loose fitting keep you cool in the heat, and the SPF gave good sun protection. The drawback to the top is that it had a tulip back, which meant that it overlapped in two pieces like upside down tulip petals. The result was that the shirt didn't quite cover my lower back on the left side, which allowed my pack to rub directly on my skin. I have a pretty large welt there now. The shirt also got really dirty, and after two washings it is dingy but clean enough. White was not a good choice.

Smoke and weather
Originally, I was supposed to go on my fastpack on August 21 and 22, but I opted to go early because the smoke from the wildfires was supposed to be slightly better and projected to get worse on the 20th (which it did). Also, there were supposed to be thunderstorms in the mountains on the 21st and 22nd.

As it turned out, for my journey the smoke was terrible in the mountains and probably pretty unhealthy. It impeded the scenery entirely and was worse above 5,000 feet. I could smell it when I got to higher elevation, and the day after my fastpack, my throat was sore and my voice hoarse. Experts say the lungs repair themselves, so hopefully I didn't do any permanent damage. I met people from Belgium, Germany, and Iowa, to name a few places. One hiker I stopped to chat with after cresting Chikamin Ridge was from Cleveland. He was looking out at what would have been a view of Mt. Rainier instead of smoke. I told him I was sorry he couldn't have seen it the way it should be.

As for the weather, it was quite warm. There was an inversion zone, which keeps the smoke trapped, and the warmer temperatures are actually up high. I have grown accustomed to running in the heat this summer, so it wasn't really a problem. With the warm weather comes bugs. They were about what I expected. I used Permethrin on my clothes and no bug spray on my skin. I got some bites, but not too bad. I mostly got them on my back when I took my pack off to get water and then the stupid petal back of my shirt would drape open and bugs would feast. I wore mosquito netting around my head the afternoon of the first day but didn't have any problems the second day.

People
If you want solitude, don't choose Section J of the PCT, at least not in August. Except for at night when I was hiking in the dark and most everyone had tucked into camp somewhere for the night, I always felt like I was among people. And even when I was on the trail at night, I saw a couple hiking in the dark. The first day, I saw 98 people, not including those camped in tents. I only counted the people I encountered on the trail itself. The second day, I counted 129 people. I knew there would be more as I drew closer to Snoqualmie Pass. I didn't mind there being people; it just wasn't what I expected. Everyone was friendly, and I felt safe. Going earlier in July, or perhaps later in September, would have been better in terms of solitude, smoke, and bugs.

Just beneath the waterfall in blue is a hiker praying or meditating. Just as I got to where he was, three people were coming down at the same time.

Conclusions
In all, I haven't really been able to determine what effect this experience has had or will have on me. I certainly learned something about mind over matter. Somehow, having to go 27 miles the second day didn't sound that daunting in the morning, and I can't really explain that. When I had about two and a half miles to go to Snoqualmie Pass, John appeared on the trail. At that point I was alternating running and walking down the trail. It was pretty rugged, so I used my pole as much as possible and found it less painful to run if the terrain would allow it. As soon as I saw John, it was as if a switch in my brain flipped. Walking became slow and painful, as if my body suddenly got through to my brain and said, "We're done." Fortunately, talking to John distracted me the last couple of miles. It was so great to see him!

What would I do differently? If I were to do this section again, I would probably opt for three days instead of two. I think 40 miles the first day is a better max distance for me, at least with this amount of elevation gain and loss. Thirty-five miles would have been too far for the second day. Two other PCT sections in Washington are just under 70 miles, so perhaps those will be better accomplished in two days. Wait, am I already talking about doing another section?