Still Moving Forward

Reaching a milestone, or 1200 of them, is often followed by a let down. Along with a sense of accomplishment comes an emptiness. The question looms... "What next?"

Well don't worry about us!

We've spent much of the last three months in deep, eager, excited discussions of our next direction and what future challenges await.

While our journey to the Pacific has ended, our reflections and perspectives from Beyond Sea Level continue.

We welcome you to visit often for more stories and pictures from our long hike while we transition to new enterprises.

Turner Falls, East of Yaak, Montana

NEWS - END OF PNT TRAIL REACHED

1,293 +/- miles in 110 days, averaging 11 _/- miles per day.

Trail Map updated - latest Callae/Dale blog posted shortly.



[posted by Alan/Rachelle Frazier]

Not an Island

A quick note from the Forks library (member of the North Olympic Library System) before heading out to the beach...

No journey of this duration happens without assistance from family, friends and strangers (new friends). As our adventure nears completion we would like to recognize some of the help we have received along the way and offer a sincere Thanks! From rides to and from trailheads to surprises in our resupply boxes to smiles of welcome in small towns across the Northwest our trip would not have been the same without the contributions of many people.

Just a few of the those who have helped us out along the way...

Jan and Horace Thuline drove us from Seattle to Glacier National Park. Despite some reservations about the size of our packs they waved goodbye over three months ago at the Bowman Lake campground.

Alan and Rachelle Frazier made sure each of our food boxes arrived at their proper destination on time. Thanks to the inconsistency in the implementation of the US Postal Service's policy on General Delivery packages this was a much larger task than simply dropping boxes off at their local office in Conifer. And the inclusion of Alan's original sketches and Rachelle's treats, wildlife humor and relevant quotations added meaning and anticipation to the opening of each box.

Ron and Anny Tessin will be (we hope) waiting for us at the Ozette Lake Trailhead when we walk out of the wilderness. While we will definitely appreciate the ride - it is their willingness to ride with us, unshowered, that earns our sincerest thanks.

Brian Van Wieren and Laura Wilson journeyed to Washington to share some of the experience with us. They brought sunshine and good conversation - unfortunately they took the sun with them when they left.

Meals and engaging conversation were shared, and local knowledge was passed on with too many people to list here, but don't worry, we know how to find you.

We are also indebted to everyone who has emailed, commented on posts, or mailed letters for us to read on the trail - thanks for taking the time, providing your insights, and sharing our journey.

Our traverse was made unique by the efforts you put forth - the memories we have and the stories we will tell are the products. We look forward to sharing more experiences with all of you.

Callae and Dale

NEWS: Forks reached

October 16th - After a very wet soggy trek through the Olympics, Forks reached. Final PNT leg is along the coast to Ozetta Lake and Cape Alava.

Trail map updated.

[Posted by Alan/Rachelle Frazier]

Power Disadvantage

You really appreciate the power of electrical power when you no longer have any. We've been “experiencing technical difficulties” with the power supply for our computer, and as such do not anticipate any new blog posts before the end of the journey. Alan Frazier will continue to post updates about our progress, and we will continue to add new posts when we finally return to civilization (in time for Halloween - do you think we dress up as smelly hikers?) and our power cord adapter.

Check back for updates and new posts!

Signage

We came across this sign in Deception Pass State Park on Whidbey Island and immediately wondered what exactly it was telling us. Is the rather stiff $87 fine for...

Having your dog on a leash?
Letting your dog sit?
Letting your dog sit while leashed?
Standing while your dog sits?
Watching your dog sit?
Stepping on your dog's tail?
Keeping your dog off the playground equipment?

Food Thoughts

On a trip like ours, food is much more important than something you literally cannot live without.

We like to eat. The result - we carry more weight in food than typical long-distance hikers. It's a quality of life thing. So we've striven to find interesting and creative ways to make our potentially monotonous staple supply of nourishment more interesting to the palette. For instance, powdered coconut milk in our morning oatmeal makes breakfast interesting again. Mixing chicken stock, butter and Parmesan cheese into rehydrated green beans adds a new sparkle and desperately needed calories to a dinner side-dish. Powdered peanut butter added to chocolate pudding leads to a protein-rich post-dinner treat. Despite the obvious shortcomings of dehydrated and freeze-dried food planned three months in advance, imaginative preparations have kept our pre-packed food enjoyable.

At the same time, we truly appreciate opportunities to supplement, even replace our must-add-water meals with fresh fruits and berries. Early in the summer we painstakingly bent over with full packs to pinch off tiny, intensely-flavored wild strawberries from their low-growing stems. We let the juice of fat, soft thimbleberries run down our chins when we passed through their shoulder-high growth. Later in the season wild huckleberries provided refreshing bursts of wet sweetness. In fact, when we ran dangerously low on food near the end of our nearly two-weeks in the Pasayten, alpine huckleberries became invaluable as we gathered the small round, chilled berries by the handful on rainy Sky Pilot Pass. Earlier that week we'd plucked tantalizingly delicious purple vaccinium berries at 7,400 feet. The miniature purple berries were nearly hidden among the thick green ground cover just shifting into the russet hues of autumn. Then, days after the autumn equinox, we walked through the Skagit valley, a lovely agricultural mecca nestled between the western Cascades and saltwater. We could almost forget the pain of hiking miles of asphalt when we crunched into fresh, crisp apples straight from the tree.

And recently we were reminded the simplest meals can often be the most satisfying. Imagine our excitement when we found ourselves at Toby's Tavern on Whidbey Island sharing a meal of fresh, local mussels with new-found friends and fellow campers. We lifted pints of cold beer before diving into giant bowls of the wine-steamed bivalves, complemented with fresh sourdough bread and lively conversation. The joy of food, and company, need not come in fancy packages.

Food can complement your location and provide a creative outlet. Food tastes best straight from the source, especially when you have no other. And food grounds us. Food is much more than nourishment for survival – we are what, where, and how we eat.

Skagit Valley apples, crisp, sweet and delicious

Through thick and thin (air, that is)

On top of the world at 7200 feet, and at two...

Enjoying the view from atop the Tatoosh Buttes, Pasayten Wilderness Area

Watching for seals in Padilla Bay (our first salt water)

Chasing Cows

When you get out of bed in the morning, it is impossible to predict what the most memorable event of the day will be. Take for instance the fifth of September, the day we walked into Oroville, WA. On this drizzly, chilly Saturday we hiked over seventeen miles, dropped a couple thousand feet in elevation, and we went from quasi-wilderness into a developed agricultural valley. We traversed abandoned logging roads and state highways. We spotted big horn sheep for the first time on this trip and watched a black bear on a ridge overlooking town. We ate prime rib for dinner and showered before going to bed. But none of these ranked as the most memorable event of the day.

Okanogan River valley south of Oroville, Washington

Bighorn Sheep above Whistler's Canyon

Black bear overlooking Oroville, Washington

The day's most memorable event centers on a small part of a cow that few of us choose to eat - the brain. Most animals, when surprised in the wild, flee from your presence. This is true not only of wildlife such as deer, elk, bears and even squirrels, but also the feral cow. So when faced with the negligible threat of two ambling hikers so loaded down with packs they are unable to give chase even if desired, cows flee. And using their domesticated brains, they flee in the path of least resistance. Ironically, this is the only path through the forest and therefore the one that we too will take down the hillside.

On this day we saw many cows. Black ones, brown ones, big ones, little ones, young and old. All branded and ear-tagged. Many curious from a distance, but ultimately skittish. We were about halfway down Whistler's Canyon when we came upon a cow and her calf innocently grazing by the side of the trail. As we neared, they fled. We followed their obvious tracks down the rain-dampened path, guessing how long it would be before they veered into the brush. To our amusement we regularly caught up to the wary cud-chewers, stopped in the middle of the trail. Using their highly developed bovine brains they undoubtedly thought they'd given us the slip only to see us walking down the trail behind them. Again, they'd be off. This time with poo plopping audibly behind the young calf. Poo, the color of fresh ground peanut butter, quite unlike the darker weathered patties we'd been stepping around for weeks. Poo, that assured us even a mile later we were still hot on the cows' trail.

Several poo-splatters later, the first two cows picked up reinforcements. Their collective gray matter examined the situation and all concurred; the established trail was their best escape route. By mile three there were too many tracks to determine the exact number of cows we were chasing down the hill at the breathtaking pace of two miles an hour. We followed those cows for over five miles. Neither our tired feet nor the perpetual rain could dampen our spirits given the entertainment provided by a handful of feral cows. Cows too stupid to step off the established trail. Cows that skirted downed trees across their path only to immediately return to ours. Cows who evacuated their bowels again and again and again. Cows that were undoubtedly related to, maybe even knew, our dinner that night. Cows that became the most memorable event of the day.

Wary cud-chewer, preparing to flee.

NEWS - Port Townsend reached

They reached Port Townsend, WA on Friday, trail map updated.

[Posted by Alan and Rachelle.]