Part 9: Mission Creek, hell or fun?

After the usual morning routine, we all left our almost literal “desert oasis” around 6am, and it was with heavy hearts. We knew what was coming: the dreaded Mission Creek section. We set off slowly, Claire in front of me and Tohia behind. The sun was rising over the Whitewater River bed, painting a picturesque mix of colors: the gray of polished round rocks, varying shades of gray and beige sand, and a few brown tree trunks that echoed the surrounding mountains slowly warming under a timid morning sun.

I ran into some of the hikers who had stayed in camp with us the night before (Phil and a group of four, including a Frenchman), all trying to cover the first six miles of trail before reaching Mission Creek.

For some background, the Mission Creek section of the PCT has become famous because large portions of the trail were literally wiped out a few years ago.

The primary cause was Tropical Storm Hilary in August 2023, which caused landslides and flash flooding in Whitewater and Mission Creek canyons. The floods completely destroyed the smooth trail, moved enormous amounts of rock and millions of stones, and completely reshaped the creek bed.

Our plan was to reach the “start” around mile 226, follow what was left of the original trail before the chaos began, and then find “our own trail” by navigating the river bed (and its small stream) for about six miles. Based on feedback and advice from other hikers, we hoped to reconnect with the official trail. However, the North Fork Mission Creek area, around miles 235 to 238 where the damage had been especially severe, still involved several washed out sections and steep climbs.

Many hikers had described the section as “very frustrating,” but my favorite quote came from a SOBO hiker:

«It’s hell or it’s fun!»

We tackled the first six miles at our usual pace and took a short break before starting the real activity. First obstacle: the small crossing of the stream. Looking back now, I honestly think it would have been easier to just put my feet directly in the water from the beginning, because that’s what the whole day would become anyway.

We moved slowly for the first mile before the real challenge came: millions of rocks and stones, the stream constantly crossing our path, and no real trail to follow. Challenge accepted.

Very quickly, it all came down to one conclusion: accept the suction. Get your feet wet. Don’t waste energy trying to avoid water, because that would probably cost you an ankle, or worse. The rocks were not particularly slippery, but they required absolute concentration with each step. Where do you place your foot? Your poles? How do you maintain your balance? Where is the safest landing place? What crossing point is shallow enough? All while trying to make sense of a route that basically no longer existed.

And so it went on for about six miles.

Exhausting? Absolutely. But at least we had unlimited access to water, and on such a hot day, it was easy to dip our hat and shirt in the cold water to keep cool or refill our bottles when needed. Even our constantly wet feet helped regulate body temperature. So eventually the whole exercise became more about patience than difficulty and, if I’m honest, it even became… fun. It was actually a great ankle mobility workout after so many repetitive days on a gentle trail.

Traveling across the rocks was slow but never really dangerous, and we still managed to keep a pretty decent pace despite the terrain. We stopped for lunch at one of the rare shady spots, watched some hikers pass by in different moods, and then kept moving.

By 3pm, we were done with the worst of it around mile 231, better than we expected. After that, the trail became mostly rideable again, although there were still a few washouts here and there. Fortunately, many cairns helped guide the way.

In many ways, Mission Creek ended up being a lot less horrible than we had imagined. We both celebrated the end of the stretch with a snack while we refueled with water for the next stretch.

What we didn’t know was that what would come next would be worse. Much worse.

That feeling of relief quickly turned to frustration as we faced a sudden and seemingly endless climb. Our tired legs struggled with both the steep elevation and the length of the climb. Some sections were slippery, the path was narrow, and huge fallen logs blocked the path. To make matters worse, tent site options were limited, as were reliable water sources. We hadn’t really planned that far in advance, as we had focused all of our energy and map study on Mission Creek.

Finally, after 20 miles and about 6,000 feet of elevation gain, we threw in the towel around mile 239. We found a small sandy spot next to a stream and finally had a chance to appreciate the change in scenery: beautiful ridges, purple flowers, and mountainous landscapes once again replacing the rocky chaos of the canyon.

We had a light dinner and climbed into our tents, exhausted but happy to finally be done with Mission Creek.

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any products or services you purchase using links in articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price they would otherwise pay, and their purchase helps support The Trek’s ongoing goal of bringing you quality backpacking information and advice. Thank you for your support!

For more information, visit the About page of this site.