I quickly made my way to the PCT, heading towards Gillette Lake.  I had to be careful before my climb today since the hunters seemed to be out in droves.  Gunshots were heard throughout the clear cut portions of the trail as I whistled while I hiked, hoping to alert anyone waiting for that elusive, easy trophy.

The wildlife seemed to be quite active as a deer scared the crap out of me.  Just past Greenleaf Overlook, a large female deer waited until I was within 10 feet of her to take off running up the side of a ridge.  She was camouflaged in the bushes as I could not see her until she bolted.  Now fully aware of my surroundings, I spotted snow high above the Eagle Creek drainage and wondered if there was any at the summit of Table.

I also had to watch my step as the newts were trying desperately to sun themselves before the full force of winter hit.

Still wondering about hiking the PCT.  It would be the journey of a lifetime, but how to get past all of life's obstacles seemed like an impossible task.  This would be something to pose on another day as this was only had one goal to think of.

Gillette Lake soon came into view as the skies seemed to cooperate more than last week.  The lake looked like a great place to camp with a family as it was a short hike and for two weeks now, not a soul was to be seen there.

I made my way through the boring portion of the hike, thumping my way through the bogs and the brush, climbing gradually to the northern approach of the mountain.  After passing the now closed Heartbreak Ridge Trail, the only way up came into view as my reprisal began.

I climbed quickly as I had more energy than the week before.  I doubt I truly had more energy, rather, I believe I was simply focused on a goal.  Last week was more of a reconnaissance hike, observing and not really expecting much.  This week was different as I expected to see the summit of this mountain at any cost of bodily energy.

I entered cloud layers and slowed my pace.  I did not want to slip here as a slip might instigate a quick fall down one of the two sides of the ridge.  One side would be a rough tumble, the other, a 1000 foot free fall.

I made it to the spot where I had tea last week and promptly kept going.  My curiosity of what was ahead drove my body at a rate that was harder than my mind thought prudent.  I let my body have it's way and continued the assault.

Well above the spires, the trail got even more dangerous as the winds picked up dramatically.  At times, the trail would come within inches of the cliff's edge.  This did not bother me as my brain took a back seat to what my body was trying to accomplish.  I plodded on, in the clouds, not knowing where I was heading.

I soon came upon a pile of rocks with a post sticking out of the side.  It was laying on the ground, out of site.  It read in large letters, Table Mountain.  I made it.  I was at the summit.  There was no view, only cloud cover, but I made it and was ecstatic. 

I roamed around the summit for a while trying to keep moving.  It was bitterly cold and lightly snowing at the top.  The lack of views and depth of your surroundings make the summit an eerie place to be.  After a brief scout around the woods, I made my way back down the ridge.

The start of the descent was not bad at all as I simply exercised caution with each step.  It was the foreboding spire section that worried me the most.  The lack of footsteps in the snow told me how popular this place was this time of year.

To my relief, the spires turned out to be easier than I expected.  The clouds never lifted, but the footing was solid enough to get me back down safely. 

Once down, I met a man riding a horse with two more in tow.  I took some pictures for Amber while I talked with him a bit, never thinking to ask his name.  Friendly chatting over, I moved on with a smile on my face.  It always cheers me up to meet nice, friendly people that are happy within their own skin.  He caught me further down the trail as I gave his horses a wide birth.  Back at the car, with my aggression appeased, I changed clothes for the seemingly long drive home.

Home