Charlie Don’t Backpack

July 28-September 6, 1975 I went on a backpacking trip along the Pacific Crest Trail across the state of Washington—531 miles. The trip began with five people: myself, a co-worker Becky Hansell, her brother Chris Bowen, and Robin and Dan who were there to return the auto home.

We started at Stevenson, on the southern border of Washington. On the second day we meet a lone backpacker, Jeff Booth an elementary school teacher from Portland, Oregon. Robin and Dan said their good byes and turned back to head home to Utah. Jeff asked if he could join us the rest of the trip, realizing that it wasn’t safe for him to travel alone. Jeff stayed with us most of the way until we reached the N. Cascades Hwy, near the Canadian border, there he moved ahead alone at a swifter pace so he could meet his ride and get back home in time for the start of the school year.

What I’m about to relate is one of many adventures we had on this trip, highlighted in yellow on map, this being the scariest:

When we reached the city of Snoqualmie Pass, it had been approximately two weeks into our trip, we decided to chip in and get a room in a small motel so we could each take a hot shower. We watched the news as we waited our turn for use of the shower. A macabre story was on the news, months earlier some humans skulls were found not far from where we currently where. Police were organizing a search to try to locate more evidence of the crimes. At the time it was unknown that these were victims of Ted Bundy, who had already moved to our home state of Utah.

It is common for passing hikers to greet one another near the trailheads. As one gets further away and deeper into the wilds, you stop and have conversations with the people you meet.

After a short side trip to North Bend we were back on the trail, two days passed and as those of you who have done any backpacking know—your mind can really play tricks on you, especially when alone. We were spread out, walking our individual pacing, anywhere from two to three miles between each individual. Jeff in the lead, followed by me, then Chris, and Becky bringing up the rear.

I had just walked out into a clearing roughly three hundred yards long, at the same time another backpacker emerged at the opposite end. When we where a hundred feet away he veered off the trail, some forty feet, to his left. As we passed I called out a hello, he just looked at me not saying a word—a chill went down my spine as I looked into his eyes. He was Charles Manson’s identical twin! I picked up my pace, when I reached the trees I increased my pace even more. Before I knew it I was running!

Snoqualmie Pass was a food pickup point. We would mail our food General Delivery, to ourselves, to various local post offices along the trail. We weighed our packs on a rock scale at a local rock shop. At this point on the trail, our packs weight had decreased to 35-45 lbs. Jeff’s pack now weighed 85 lbs., Chris and mine weighed 80 lbs., and Becky’s came in at 50 lbs.

All sorts of thoughts ran through my head, “Is he after me, is Jeff dead, Oh, my God, Becky!” I must have ran for 10-15 minutes now thinking I’ve got to turn back, then I saw Jeff running towards me and shouting, “Did you see that guy, I know he’s the killer!” Together we ran towards Chris. Soon we saw Chris running towards us. We all agreed he was the killer and ran to Becky’s rescue. This time another 10-15 minutes passed, we feared the worst that we would find Becky’s lifeless body, but then we saw her running towards us. She was shouting, “It’s the killer, it’s the killer!”

We doubled our pace to put as much ground between the killer and us! We had a plan. No stopping for lunch today, run, run! Time passed and the sun was starting to set, we needed a safe campsite fast. We headed up the side of the mountain, up the scree field, this way we could hear anyone approaching our camp. A mile up the mountain’s side we found a terraced area, no tents tonight—too visible. No hot meal tonight, can’t chance it, our gas stoves may give away our location. Chris volunteered for the first watch, the rest of us kept our Swiss Army knives close at hand.

It took another day before we relaxed and could laugh at ourselves.