Day 10 : Sitkum Creek

Start – Sitkum Creek
Finish – Little Wenatchee Trail Junction
Daily Distance – 24 km
Ascent – 1210 m
Descent – 780 m

15:30 and my tent seems small when hiding from a rain storm. Today’s predicted thunder storm fortunately hasn’t amounted to much. I can hear thunder in the distance, but all that is hitting here is a steady rain. There was a brief 30 minute rain shortly after lunch, just enough to thoroughly moisten the feet, but otherwise nothing until almost 15:00. Fortunately, I pushed myself pretty hard this morning to get up and over a high pass before the predicted storms. While that, in the event, was unnecessary, it has given me the luxury of an early finish without falling behind schedule. Now I am just attempting to change out of wet, dirty clothes into dry ones without making my tent filthy.

I really struggled on the climb up to Portal pass this morning. Residual tiredness from yesterday and another night of bad sleep didn’t set me off on a good footing. More even than the prospect of beer, having the opportunity to buy a backpacking pillow fills me with joy. Unfortunately my existing pillow didn’t last the first night before deflating. Since then, I have been using a rolled up bag of clothes, which is not nearly so comfortable.

While the climb was difficult, the scenery on the far side was a fine reward. Snow capped mountains formed the backdrop to forests and alpine grasslands. Even better, I had opportunity to learn what the disgruntled call of a (probably) Marmot sounds like. Having stopped for 1st lunch at the pass, no sooner did I start to prepare my food than I was startled by a loud, almost chirping sound from behind me. In case it was a hitherto undiscovered soprano bear, I whirled about to find a marmot staring at me from some 20 feet away. While I am no specialist in marmot body language, indignance, it seems, transcends species. Never have I ever been regarded with such disdain by a rodent before. Several more hoots seemed to enquire as to what I jolly well thought I was doing in his dining room. Naturally, all delivered with an undercurrent of the most total contempt. Attempts to explain that I was here first and would move on presently were as successful as can be imagined. Clearly not a marmot to be trifled with. Finally, however, my steely resolve to eat, no matter what interruption, won the day. With a final, malice laced, glance, my furry adversary disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. Presumably to plot a strongly worded letter campaign to his MP about how the neighbourhood was going downhill and something should be done.

Fortunately, throughout the afternoon, I was to encounter many, friendlier, examples of the species. Occasionally bounding through the landscape like squat golden retrievers, other times poking faces inquisitively out of burrows, they brightened the day. Why some appeared dark brown, shading into black, whereas others were mixed more with white I don’t know. Certainly it presented an effective camouflage against the rocky terrain.

There seems little more to do now that take a nap and try to stay warm. It is chilly at 1675 metres without the sun.