July 2, 2024

Springdale Creek to Fredenburg Creek via Tofte

12.2 miles

We knew the forecast for today, but that doesn’t stop me from being annoyed when I wake up in the early morning and it’s pouring rain. I potter around for a while, make coffee and have breakfast, and finally wrangle enough motivation to pack up. Rolling up my dirty, wet tent, I notice that there are earthworms on my Tyvek groundsheet. Gross. “Thank you for what you do for the earth,” I say to them, “but can you please stay out of my sight?”

Out of nowhere, the tune to the old timey camp song “There’s a Hole in the Bucket” pops in my head. Instead of “There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,” I sing “There’s a worm on my Tyvek, my Tyvek, my Tyvek” and crack myself up.

“Apparently this is what I do when I’m miserable?” I ponder aloud. “At least it’s better than crying, I guess.”

“Yeah, but I feel like it’s pretty close to crying,” Machine responds.

“That’s true.”

But once we get going I actually feel pretty okay. The world is obviously even more slop-o-rama after last night’s rain, but it’s fine. There is a Forest Service pit toilet at the trailhead we’re about to hit, so I can poo in peace away from the bugs, and after that we’re walking down the road to Tofte for hot breakfast and a resupply. Nothing can get me down! No rain holds up against a Forest Service toilet and the promise of town food!

The toilet is great; the road walk is… fine. Road walks are rough on the feet and shins but they are great for time. We make quick work of the two miles even in the mist and roll up to Coho Bakery in time for breakfast. We leave our sopping wet packs outside for hours and no one touches them. Why would you want to though, honestly?

The bottomless coffee, cherry danish, and bagel breakfast sandwich are divine. We hang out for a little while longer doing phone things like reserving a place to stay in Silver Bay for Saturday and previewing the next section. Afterwards we go to the store next door, Water’s Edge, and look around. They have an impressive collection of Darn Toughs including one with an owl holding a hot chocolate, which I buy because (a) one can never have enough fresh socks on this trail, and (b) they are adorable.

The general store across the street is nothing special, and it’s not the best selection of hiking food ever, but it gets the job done. We take our items back to the bakery, which has calmed down a bit. We share a mac and cheese and chocolate cake while we charge our devices and enjoy the warmth and dryness for a little longer. Eventually we accept that the time has come. We repack our food bags outside, do some final tasks, and set off.

We decide to take the Gitchi-Gami bike path out of town instead of walking back up the road and picking up where we left off. We see this as an alternate; our footpath was still connected, but we needed a reset from the slop. It’s fast walking and we absolutely chew up the miles. We stop at the Holiday gas station convenience store for more drinks and snacks, and as we’re crossing the intersection a lady leans out of her car window and yells, “I love your skirt!” I smile and call back my thanks. Said colorful hiking skirt, which I got in Bishop at the gear exchange for $15 while I was on the PCT in 2022, is on its last leg and may fall apart after this summer, sadly, so I have to enjoy its notoriety while I can.

The path leaves the road and enters Temperance River state park, and eventually walks over a bridge spanning the river at a magnificent gorge. The river, like all the rivers on this trail have been, is violent and gushing, constricting to a small gulley and then frothing out the other side before tumbling through another slide. It looks like the Devil’s water slide. Petition to rename.

We pick up the SHT again on the other side of the river and follow the torrent for a mile or so, including one section that has awful looking debris from the flood. Then the SHT turns west again and the sound of the water grows duller. Soon we cross the Cross, on another impressive bridge, then a tricky crossing of a tributary which used to have a bridge but now does not. It continues like this for a while, rock hopping over smaller creeks while the Cross sings in the background. It’s slow going but very lovely with the misty forest and the sound of the water.

At the Falls campsite, we take a break to have our dinner: sandwiches we packed out from the Holiday. Machine chose a burger while I grabbed a beef and cheddar. We also have our respective drinks of choice: a Dr. Pepper for him and a tangerine LaCroix for me. It’s only 1.8 to the next campsite, so we decide to continue on.

For this last little section I pop on some Taylor Swift. It’s an evermore night, my favorite T-Swift album. Hot take. It’s not exactly uplifting or upbeat, but somehow its melancholy calm fits the forest tonight. I get in the zone and find a rhythm once the trail finishes being slop and levels out into relatively flat, easy terrain. Before I know it and well before I expect it, we are at the Fredenburg Creek campsite. There’s no one else here; we have the entire massive campsite to ourselves.

Our tents are wet and it’s disgusting setting them up, but what can you do. I am very sore and tired and satisfied. We eat a kale salad from the bag and I almost immediately fall asleep. Come on, sunshine. Come out tomorrow like you promised.