Day 1
I've been running sections of the PCT over the past couple summers and decided to step up my game this year, aiming for an unsupported FKT on the section from Cascade Locks at the Oregon border to White Pass at Mt. Rainier. There's no official FKT yet but I found one post reporting a time of 2d 15h 11m, so that was my time to beat. After taking a bus to a train to light rail to a bus, I carried my 20 lb pack across the Bridge of the Gods to the trailhead and spent a terrible night camped next to a highway.
I started my run at 5:36am and was promptly stung by a bee. It didn’t really add much to the suffering this event would already entail. The first day climbed substantially but at a gradual rate, giving occasional nice views of the Oregon volcanoes between stretches of green tunnel. This wasn’t the most scenic stretch, but like most of the PCT, it was well maintained and great for running. I saw many through hikers but no other runners. They kept asking me, “Are you that ultrarunner?” I answered, “I’m an ultrarunner, but probably not the one you’re thinking of.” I had no idea who they were referring to, but found out firsthand on day 2. I had hoped to make it to Blue Lake at 58 miles but ran out of daylight around mile 50 and decided to camp earlier at Sheep Lake, 52 miles in.
Day 2
I woke up at 5 after 6.5 hours of sleep, ready to run and legs feeling great. I moved well through the morning. Then I was passed by “that ultrarunner”: Karel Sabbé, a Belgian runner, who is trying to set a new supported FKT for the entire PCT (https://pct.karelsabbe.com/). He was running with two pacers and they were moving very fast. I tried to hang with them and that lasted about 60 seconds before they dropped me. After a month of running 50+ miles/day, they were running most hills! Incredible. I had nowhere near that much energy. At one point I just totally powered down, sat down next to the trail and closed my eyes for a couple minutes. When I got up I left my headphones behind. :( Shortly after that I passed Sabbe and team at their support van. They offered me a soda but I had to decline with great sadness to keep my unsupported status.
The afternoon brought me to Mt. Adams, passing through a large burn area very close to the mountain. It was very sad to see this and think of the fires burning right now all over the northwest. At some point in this stretch I got the Proclaimer’s “And I would walk 500 miles…” stuck in my head. I had hoped to make it to mile 109 but was a little off the pace, reaching mile 102 at 9:30 pm. I decided to push on to a stream at mile 106, figuring it would take about an hour-ish of hiking. Turns out I don’t hike that fast and I got there after 11. Set up camp as quickly as possible and crashed hard.
Day 3
For no apparent reason, the microclimate in that area was *very* cold - I could see my breath. Even with my down jacket and balaclava on, my summer weight sleeping bag was totally inadequate. I woke up shivering hard at 3:20 am and had no choice but to get going, while cursing the rodent that ate my beloved peanut butter pretzels out of my poorly hung backpack.
I once again felt strong in the morning and was able to run the flat and downhill sections with confidence. I was amazed at how good my muscles felt. Around mid-morning Karel Sabbe and team passed me again, still moving very well. I’m surprised it took them so long to catch back up - perhaps he stops early to avoid the heat?
My feeling of strength lasted for about 4 hours and then I was ready to be done. My muscles were still feeling strong but my body was done working. The coup de grace came when my watch misinformed me about a big climb. It claimed a climb was 1k’ during a water-free stretch, so I filled my bottles only partway. After 1k’ of climbing, the watch said, “now begin your descent!”. I looked at the trail and it very much went up, not down. I think it was another 1k’ of climbing, all above 6k elevation. I was getting passed by day hikers which was really demoralizing, and I ran out of water long before the next stream. This was the low point of the trip physically, and also the high point vertically. The Proclaimers were replaced by Peter Tosh’s “(You Gotta Walk) Don’t Look Back”.
The trail passed along a really cool knife edge ridge that would have had great views, but the haze was extreme. You could barely see the shadow of Tahoma in the morning, even though it was very close, and it was completely obscured by the afternoon. Visibility was probably less than 10 miles. A huge bummer. The ridge was rocky and exposed and I didn’t feel comfortable running much of it - another bummer. I’m going to have to come back and do this section again. This was definitely the most beautiful section of the trail by far. It was also the busiest.
With about 25 miles left it became a countdown to the finish. That’s really quite a long time to count down. The run ended with a 1500’ climb and 5.5 mile descent. The climb sucked. The descent was awesome. Somehow my amazing body still had enough energy to run solidly, and I pushed it all the way to the finish. I was met by my awesome in-laws Kevin and Jill, and an Aspire Adventure Running group at the trailhead gave me some watermelon.
In the end, I ran the route in 2 days, 13 hours, 10 minutes and will be submitting it for certification as an unsupported FKT. This wouldn’t be a hard time to beat if a great athlete put some effort into it, but to be honest I’m not really sure why you would. It’s not a particularly distinctive section of trail. I found no records of previous unsupported athletes with faster times through this section. I completed the route entirely unsupported, using food I carried from the start and water from natural sources and meeting nobody I knew along the way.
If you're thinking of attempting this route or want to talk about it, I'm @seidmandavid on Instagram. Feel free to contact me with questions.