Foothills Trail - Day 3
Body felt surprisingly good this morning — not even sore. Coffee in camp and rolling out by 8:30 AM seems to be the routine now.
About an hour in, the humidity showed up and politely reminded me I wasn’t hiking in Oregon anymore. It was going to be a warm one.
The forest was beautiful today, and I crossed several suspension bridges that swayed just enough to make you stop right in the middle and hold onto the cables for a second. Equal parts cool and mildly concerning.
Lunch stop was at Toxaway Campground. On the way out, I got cornered by a large group of kids curious about the trail. They asked how long I was out for and told me they planned to take 15 days to complete the Foothills Trail. Fifteen days?! At that pace, I think I’d start naming trees and forming emotional attachments to campsites. Their Southern twang was so thick I probably only understood about 70% of the conversation, but they were good kids.
Then the day shifted.
After climbing Heartbreak Ridge around mile 50, I came upon a hiker who had passed away. His wife was there, along with medics. It stopped me in my tracks. The rest of the day carried a heaviness to it — one of those moments that reminds you how fragile life can be and how wild it is that we get to experience places like this at all.
Moving through the Victoria Hawkins section, the forest looked sparse from heavy blowdowns, though thankfully the trail itself stayed mostly clear.
I ended the day at Flatrock Camp… which, for the record, is anything but flat. Easily my least favorite campsite so far.
The bright spot came from my camp neighbors from Ohio, Nick and Mike. They were super inquisitive about my gear and tent setup — definitely the kind of guys who had done their homework. Mike shared something that stuck with me: he was carrying his friend’s pack, a friend who passed away three years ago, in memory of him. Rick.
We swapped stories about the trail, the people we carry with us, and the memories that somehow feel closer out here. Mike asked about my trail name, PB&JP, and was genuinely interested in the story and who JP was. After the kind of day I’d had, it felt good to sit around camp and have a real conversation with someone who understood why these miles matter.
Tomorrow: one final push.