Illegal ain’t illegal if it’s less than an ounce. Now that’s not the line I’m looking for. Luca Brazzi sleeps with the fishes. Nope, that’s not it either. Anyhoo point is there’s def diff levs of “crime”. Not to mention the legal right of way.

I finally sleep. Like a babe. Up great too. One massive solid dump. Then a second one. Winning.

I route us on a shortcut Google maps says yes to. We get there and it’s all sorts of no no no, Destiny’s Child. I don’t wanna trespass private land so we head back a half mile. State land with an easement to the power company. Not a person. All sort of sign ignoring. Here. Trespass my ass. I pay taxes. We dump our bags and hop over the rusty barber wire fence. Buzzing below high voltage power lines, we push onward into illegal areas. About 7 or 8 miles worth. I’m fearful of the fence on the other side — there’s always another fence. We get there. It’s an easy fence nice hop. Directly to Palouse to Cascade Trail Head. There’s all sorts of Sunday action going on. We take a break and I float around in the current of Rattlesnake Lake, which I wouldn’t have done if I knew the name of that body of water beforehand.

Finally! No more motorized vehicles! We climb constantly. Uphill and upwind, this is a tough afternoon. We the navigate longest trail tunnel in the world, the 2.3-mile Snoqualmie Tunnel bored under Snoqualmie Pass. It’s dark and fuck and so cold you can see you breathe. A nice change of temperature from the 90°. Bridge after bridge. Tunnel after tunnel. My hands go numb. My brain goes dumb.

Finally, Lake Easton State Park. Another hiker biker site, there’s a couple of Germans on bike in the other site. They’re nice and let us know which shower is hot. I bet they would have hated Hitler too. Shower. Ramen. Tent. Out.