Nee Chalet

On Monday, 10/20/2025, we stepped out of the warm car into the 21 degree morning and began hiking the last uncompleted section of the Oregon Pacific Crest Trail (OR PCT). This beginning became the end of a 4 year pursuit to complete the entire 455.2 miles of the OR PCT.

This journey began as an ambition in 2020 to define entering my 6th decade of life. Physically, I was in good shape except for a lifetime of bad knees. We had moved from Corvallis to Eugene but were still commuting two hours per day with ten hour shifts. I had planned to change jobs to be closer to home and take a 2 month break before restarting work to complete the OR PCT. But life marches on its own path, sometimes ignoring our plans. In 2020, the COVID pandemic changed everything, and with it, closed the entire PCT. We hunkered down at work, navigating the turbulence and opting for stability with familiar routines.

Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent– Marilyn vos Savant, writer. Born 8/11/46.

When life found its way back to a new normal, I adjusted my hiking plans. I did not change jobs. I did not take 2 months off. Instead, on May 25th, 2021, I began the process of linking sections of a north bound OR PCT route in reasonable 3-5 day trips. Over the next 4 years, when time in between work allowed, friends and family were willing, weather and trail conditions allowed, I systematically linked a contiguous line up the OR map. From the border of Oregon and California to the border of Oregon and Washington, I put one foot in front of the other.

In some ways, sectional hiking over a long route is crazy. First of all, there is risk of wearing thin your relationships. Time and again asking if they would drive or pick up, stake their trust in my planning, judging good weather and trail conditions. Not to mention enduring the physical and mental challenges of many trail miles. On the other hand, completing the OR PCT in sections kept the trail time fresh. It kept the body from breaking down too much, enthusiasm higher, and the pack weight light.

You’re never too young to have a dream. You’re never too old to make them happen. -Pam Flowers, first woman to dog sled across the Arctic.

On September 16th, 2023 I walked to the Bridge of the Gods with my good hiking friend, Tracy. I celebrated this day as the completion of my OR PCT. Felt good. Really good. Many fine memories with friends and family. I even completed one 4-day section solo, a first for me. However, in the back of my mind was a 42 mile stretch of OR PCT that had continued to evade my planning. Kept thinking I would get to it later. First time due to snow and another time, wild fires and forest closures. Every thru-hiker has to reconcile with some deviation of route for one reason or another. However, you have fewer excuses as a sectional hiker. And, it bothered me.

So, when I proposed completing this remaining section I did so with some urgency. I was staring at a knee replacement the following year and recovery uncertainty. We were just back from a month travel in Spain, including hiking part of the N Route Camino. I was currently in good hiking shape. The timing was further primed by fall frost eliminating mosquitoes in a usually vicious area for them. And the season of deep snow was quickly approaching. It came down to the wire when my good friend Tracy and her dog Bruno agreed to join me. It was not going to be easy. Three days, averaging 13-14+ miles per day, and limited water (carrying 3 L). My brother Jeff, a reliable weather techie, said “I don’t see anything foreboding”. Cold, some ground snow but dry. Our wonderful husbands agreed to drive and pick us up. It is a really good feeling when details fall into place. It is like fitting the last pieces of 5000-piece puzzle.

Back on the trail, Tracy and I put one foot in front of the other. Unseen travelers marked the snow with their tracks; bear, elk, deer, marten or mink, birds and one hiker traveling southbound. The forest’s quiet was deafening, as there was almost no wind. Stepping out of the dense forest was a brilliant view of Mt Theilsen, the lightening rod of the Cascades. We had hours of awkward steps and loud crunching through the breakable snow crust. We welcomed getting to the dry, soft and quiet, dirt trail. From one camp, perched high on a ridge facing East, the light of sunrise was a beautiful evolving painting. The color of my favorite sherbet (*sherbert, if you prefer). And water! A constant concern on this section. If there is a God, it also has to be water.

In the moment, hiking these wilderness miles can feel like you have everything you need and life is infinitely pure. But it is really the coming back home when the gratitude floods back in. I remain ever grateful for these experiences, to my friends and family, the wilderness and water.