Harts Pass to Canada (Northern Terminus).

Mile 2,634 – 2,656.

Day 129.

I woke up early on my final day on the PCT – something I haven’t done often on this trip – at my beautiful campsite atop a small ridge. The sun wasn’t hitting the ridge yet, and the air felt chilly.

In the last 3 or 4 days, it feels like autumn arrived in the North Cascades. The leaves on the blueberry and huckleberry bushes are all starting to turn red and purple. And I’ve needed to hike in my puffy jacket for the last few miles in the evening and the first few miles in the morning to stay warm enough. It’s kind of nice being a little cold, after dealing with challenging levels of heat for much of this trail.

The Northern Terminus was a 20-mile hike from where I camped on my final night. And the 20 miles were spectacular. The trail climbed over a few passes and skirted the sides of large mountains.

Best of all, the storms of recent days cleared out, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. After 3 days of rain, I lucked out with a perfect bluebird day for finishing the trail.

All the while, I passed by thru-hikers going the other direction, who had just finished and were backtracking to the trailhead at Hart’s Pass. Several were hikers that I’d met a few times, but many were folks I didn’t know. Sadly, most of my trail family is slightly behind me, so we won’t finish together. However, AC, Jukebox, SnakeEyes, Stag, and 100Grand should be within about a day or two of me. So this means I’ll probably see them all going north when I backtrack to Hart’s Pass to get off the trail.

After the final pass, the trail dropped into a wooded section as it approached the Canadian Border. Unlike the Appalachian Trail, the terminus of the PCT is not located high on a mountaintop. Instead, the terminus is found at the bottom of some switchbacks in an unassuming forested area.

For the end point of a National Scenic Trail, this location feels almost arbitrary. However, if you look to the left and right, you’ll see a thin clear-cut of trees marking the Canadian Border. On the Canadian side, there is a “Welcome to Canada” sign and a metal marker. On the American side, a wooden monument, nearly identical to the one at the Southern Terminus, 2,656 miles back.

I don’t know if it was the unremarkable location, the knowledge that I still had 30 miles to backtrack, or the fact that the terminus was already surrounded by many unfamiliar thru-hikers privately celebrating their group’s finish. But arriving at the border was underwhelming for me.

I’ve heard it said that ending a thru-hike is just another day. What’s special is all the moments that come before, in the months spent chipping away at the trail. Slowly, those moments add up, the miles start running out, and finishing becomes less of a goal and more of an inevitability. In this moment, that certainly rang true.

Unlike the end of the Appalachian Trail, I didn’t feel any huge rush of emotions at the end. As I looked at the terminus, I waited to be hit by the wave of joy, sadness, relief, and sense of accomplishment. But it didn’t come in that moment. Instead, I simply find myself a hiker who has run out of trail.

In place of any emotional outburst, I sat down on the forest floor facing the monument. I stared at it for a long while, waiting for the reality to sink in. Eventually, I got up and took some photos with the monument. I added my name to the trail register. Swish, who arrived at the border with me, finally popped the cork in the full-size bottle of champagne he’d carried in his pack since  Leavenworth and passed it to me.

Eventually, there was nothing left to do but pack up, turn around, and start the 30-mile journey south back to the Hart’s Pass trailhead.