Back in 2019, I set out to start backpacking the Washington Pacific Crest Trail, beginning at Cascade Locks, Oregon, crossing the famous Bridge of the Gods, and heading north toward Trout Lake, Washington.
I wasn’t alone for this stretch — my friend Phillip joined me for the first leg of the journey. Together, we faced long water carries, stubborn blisters, relentless mosquitoes, stunning alpine lakes, and the kind of camaraderie that only trail life can build. This is the story of Part One of my Washington PCT adventure.
There’s something special about starting a Washington PCT section at Cascade Locks. The Bridge of the Gods marks both the Oregon-Washington border and a milestone for thru-hikers heading north. For me, it felt like crossing into a new chapter of this long journey.
Phillip and I set off under clear skies, energized and ready. But Washington has a way of humbling you quickly. Within hours, the climbs started, the water grew scarce, and the miles began to feel longer than they looked on paper.
One of the hardest parts of this stretch was the long, dry sections. At one point, we had to carry water for nearly 20 miles. The heat and dust wore us down, and my feet didn’t hold up as well as I hoped.
By the end of day two, I was dealing with brutal blisters — the kind that make every step feel like fire. Phillip was struggling too, though he masked it with humor. Trail life has a way of breaking you down and building you back up at the same time.
Relief came in the form of Panther Creek, where clear, cold water felt like salvation. We dunked hats, soaked feet, and filled bottles until our packs were heavy again.
Along the way, we also experienced one of the best parts of the PCT: trail magic. Friendly faces and unexpected kindness reminded us that the trail is about more than just miles. It’s about community, even in the middle of nowhere.
By day four, we pushed into the Indian Heaven Wilderness — and it lived up to the name. Alpine meadows stretched out in every direction, dotted with wildflowers and lakes.
The beauty came with a cost: mosquitoes. Clouds of them swarmed us anytime we stopped moving. At Blue Lake, we dove into the water to cool off and escape the buzzing for a few minutes. It was one of those trail moments where joy and misery blend into a memory you’ll never forget.
The miles took their toll, and Phillip eventually made the tough call to exit at Trout Lake. Blisters, fatigue, and the reality of trail life added up. It was the right choice for him, but saying goodbye hit me hard. We had shared the struggles and laughter of the first section, and suddenly I was continuing north alone.
That’s the thing about the PCT — it strips away the noise and leaves you with clarity. For Phillip, that meant stepping off the trail. For me, it meant pushing forward into the unknown.
The Cascade Locks to Trout Lake section of the Washington Pacific Crest Trail taught me a few lessons right away:
By the time I reached Trout Lake, I was exhausted but grateful. Phillip made the tough decision to step off trail, and I suddenly found myself continuing on my own. It was bittersweet — we’d shared the struggles of long climbs, brutal blisters, and relentless mosquitoes, but the trail doesn’t stop just because things get hard.
That’s the reality of the Pacific Crest Trail: every hiker has their own breaking point, and every hiker has their own reason to keep going. For me, that meant pushing north, even if it meant going solo.
This stretch reminded me why I love backpacking the Washington Pacific Crest Trail — not just for the beauty of alpine meadows and icy lakes, but for the lessons in resilience, humility, and self-discovery. Cascade Locks to Trout Lake was only the beginning of Washington’s challenges, and it gave me plenty to carry forward into the miles ahead.
👉 Ready for the next chapter? Read Part Two: Backpacking Goat Rocks Wilderness from Trout Lake to White Pass
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