Welcome to the USA
From Christina Lake, British Columbia across the Canada-US border to Republic, Washington
PLEASE NOTE: My trip reports are about a week and a half behind, as I haven’t had as much time to write recently. I am currently in Marblemount, Washington as of April 26. The report below tells of my run from Christina Lake, British Columbia across the Canada-US border to Republic, Washington from April 16 to 17.
Tuesday April 16
I woke up tired and cranky my final morning in Canada in Christina Lake after two crazy days traversing the Old Rossland Cascade Highway. I stumbled out of my tent to the sight of a man in full camo idling on an ATV with two rifles mounted on either side.
He said Good Morning and we struck up a conversation. He told me his name was Glen and he came to the area to hunt turkeys. After telling Glen I skied over the pass from Rossland he said, “can I get you a coffee?” I don’t normally drink coffee but said yes anyway. He poured a cup from his thermos. The coffee had Bailey’s Irish Cream in it, and so there went both my first coffee and my first alcohol of 2024. My grogginess vanished right away.
Glen mentioned that he lived close to the US border. I asked if he visits the states often. He used to but he stopped visiting when Trump got elected. That guy’s such a jerk, I didn’t want to support the country anymore. So, there you have it…even the gun lovin’ ATV ridin’ men in Canada hate Trump.
After Glen drove away, I made breakfast and started running.
me oh my what spring time paradise hath I stumbled unto now?
Welcome to the kettle valley rail trail. I followed the trail to Grand Forks, which has a border crossing into the USA.
Officer Miller let me right into the states with few questions. somehow he believed my crazy story that I ran around Canada this winter.
It’s good to be back!!!!!!! 😎
I ran through a part of Washington I’d never seen before nestled in horse and cow pastures— Ferry County. I stopped at a classic-looking burger joint called Tugboats in Curlew for information and a treat. After ordering the cheapest item on the menu, a vanilla ice cream, the older man behind the counter started chatting with me. He grew up in Darrington. I told him “I ran through there. That area looks like it has sweet rock climbing.” It’s rock now but it used to be snow and ice. The snow used to come 2/3 of the way down the mountain year round. We used to go up the ice chutes and ride down them on sleds as kids. He got his first pair of crampons when he was 11 and started joining search and rescue missions then. By 17, he led search and rescue missions. He climbed Glacier Peak 6 or 7 times and Whitehorse more times than he could count. At 18, in the 70s, he joined the service in Military Intelligence and got sent to Thailand (shortly after the Vietnam War).
From Thailand, he completed secret reconnaissance missions into Cambodia to identify Khmer Rouge positions. Then they would tell the Vietnamese government who would bomb the area. Most people don’t realize the US actually worked with the communist Vietnamese government after the war. He spoke about his service with some pride. “You’re one of the few people I’ve met who doesn’t seem cynical about the work you did in the military.” No, I think what we did in Cambodia was a good thing. They were committing genocide and we stopped it. He never mountaineered again after returning from the service. Unfortunately I forgot to ask his name.
After my ice cream, I started running down the Ferry County Rail Trail. The man at Tugboats told me I could probably get away with camping along the side if I was discreet and stayed close to the trail.
I found a spot right by the river with no houses in sight a few miles down. As I walked to set up my tent, I crossed a mostly buried wooden fence,m not thinking much of it. I pitched my tent and starting setting up my camp stove in a nice grassy patch when an ATV rolled up and parked on the rail trail.
I got up and walked over to meet two bearded men with beer bellies, “Hey, how’s it going?” One walked to me, stepped on a higher patch of grass, puffed out his chest real big (which had a pistol strapped to it), and said, Excuse me. What made you think it was a good idea to camp here? “I’m starting to think it wasn’t,” I replied. You’re starting to get the right idea. You’re on my property and you have 30 minutes to get off before I call the sheriff. “Do you know where I can camp?” Nope! But 85% of this county is public land. Or you can knock on someone’s door to ask permission and you have a 50/50 shot they’ll say yes. “Ok.” I’ll be back in 30 minutes and if you’re still here, I’m calling the sheriff. “Ok!”
I raced to pack up my things and have never cleaned up a campsite faster. Within 15 minutes, I was running into the night with no idea where I’d stop. I’d forgotten how people roll in the USA, but my fellow countrymen reminded me fast.
Soon enough I heard the ATV approaching again. What now? They pull up to me and in friendly voices say, “So, what are ya up to?” I told them about my Big Dumb Adventure™️ and they told me about possible places I could camp. I smelled the beer on their breaths from across the ATV fumes and the safe distance between us. They told me about a community hall 3 miles down the road and a state park 8 miles. Apparently all the public land they spoke of was high above the valley bottom and far from the rail trail. I thanked them for the info and ran off.
After about two miles, I came up to a shop called Smokin’ Joes that still had some lights on. I walked up to it and could see that the shop was closed, but a dog started barking. I stood there until the owner came out. I asked her if I could camp on her land. After shining my headlamp on my face so she could see me, she said she didn’t mind and pointed to a spot in the grass where I could set up my tent. The time was 9:10 pm. With great relief, I set up my tent, cooked dinner, and got to sleep by a reasonable hour.
Wednesday, April 17
The next morning I packed up my campsite and starting around 9:45am. Soon after, I turned around to see Shauna, the owner of the smoke shop, chasing me down the rail trail. I stopped and walked over to her assuming I forgot something. She said, I’m really glad I met you and wanted to wish you luck on your journey. And I brought some things for you. She handed me the biggest bag of snacks anyone has given to me this whole adventure filled with nuts, water, M&M’s, beef jerky, and fig newton’s.
Thus in my first 24 hours back in the USA, I was beat down and lifted beyond my wildest expectations. What a welcome home. Indeed, this is the land of extremes!
While running down the road, kids playing in their yard called out to me, Where are you going?? “I’m running to Seattle.” Why are you pushing that thing? “It has my camping gear in it!” A rusty old car slowed down and a man asked suspiciously, Do know these kids? “No they just were asking me where I’m going.” You shouldn’t talk to kids you don’t know. The dad came out of the house and called his kids inside. I decided to start running again!
After a few more miles, a red truck passed me and stopped ahead to the side of the road. I pulled up, and the man said, You’re moving right along. “I’m trying to.” I just want to tell you one thing. If you get to do what you feel in your life, you’re fortunate. He asked what I wanted to do in life. “I’m not really sure, but I like what I’m doing right now.” I believe wherever you go, things will work out for you. You’re doing exactly what you feel. I can see that.
Pieter Tack got to do what he felt his whole life. Originally from Holland, he followed a woman to Canada, and ended up settling in Curlew, Washington. When he stopped to talk to me, he was on his way to go dumpster diving for scrap metal, etc. Financially, he’s very comfortable. Recently, he picked up his son from the airport in Spokane. He asked his son if he wanted anything. His son said no. His son only has two pairs of jeans, two shirts, and lives out of a backpack. Pieter doesn’t know what to do with his money now.
Let me tell you one thing. Life is a great mystery. All these religions try to solve the mystery. It will always be a mystery. Pieter gave me $20 and drove off to the dump.
i arrived in Republic, Washington at 2:30pm with plenty of time to explore the town. Thanks to Warmshowers.org, I had hosts for the night in town, Patty and Rob Slagle.
I walked into the library to read about the local history. Republic was established in 1896 as a gold mining town. It was part of the same gold rush that led folks to establish Winthrop and Twisp in the Okanogan to the west and Rossland in British Columbia to the north. Unlike those other towns, Republic still has an active gold mine.
From the library, I walked into the local outdoor store, Outfitters, and met the owner Arwen. I told her I was surprised they sold hiking and backpacking clothes. I assumed they’d be more geared towards hunting and fishing. She explained that, while hunting and fishing are popular, Republic also has a big network of cross country ski trails in town in the winter, backcountry skiing at Sherman Pass (Washington’s highest maintained pass), and tons of hiking and biking in the summer. In recent years, the town has become a checkpoint for thru hikers on the Pacific Northwest Trail.
one more stop at the local coop for a cinnamon bun before meeting Patty and Rob. Yum 😋
The second I arrived at Patty and Rob’s house, I knew I was in good hands. Patty got my clothes into the washing machine and me into the shower faster than a New York deli makes bagels during morning rush.
They were pharmacists and owned the local pharmacy in town for 35 years. Rob was a third generation pharmacist, and his grandfather, JW Slagle came to Republic in 1904 to liquidate the drugstore but ended up buying it and staying. JW eventually became the mayor and helped set up electricity and the current water system in town.
Until Patty and Rob sold the pharmacy to the hospital, it was Washington state’s oldest family owned and operated pharmacy. It remains the only pharmacy in Ferry County.
I asked the Slagles why the town has a natural food coop? I thought we were in Trump country. They said many hippies came to the area after the Vietnam War and set up communes in the surrounding hills. Aha! So there you have it, go no further than Republic to find a town where rednecks and hippies coexist in peace.
PS
While I was in the library in Republic, I met Jaz who worked for the local newspaper, The Ferry County View, and started talking to her about my adventure. After leaving town, Buffy Jackson interviewed me and wrote the below article.
The Former IT specialist legend lives on!