The path from Mount Hood down to the valley of the Columbia River Gorge, the lowest elevation of the entire PCT, pummeled Alexei’s knees for mile after mile of brutally quick descent. As he approached Cascade Locks, the last stop on the PCT in Oregon before the Bridge of the Gods delivered hikers to Washington, Alexei almost laughed at how anticlimactic it felt. This could possibly be the end of it all, the last day he walked the PCT, at least for now. He was approaching the lands he knew well, the vistas and trees and mosses that had raised him.
Home.
He had walked 2,000 miles to get here.
Revised his plan over and over again.
And all he wanted was to sit down and take a hot bath.
Alexei left the trail at a junction that delivered hikers onto a quiet street of Cascade Locks, a few blocks away from the bridge. He was halfway down the street, contemplating what, exactly, he should do from here—maybe see if there was a room available at the Best Western, rest his bones before deciding for sure whether he was completing his journey here or walking on to Washington—when he heard someone call his name.
“Goshdarnit, Alexei!”
Alexei half jumped out of his skin.
His eyes widened when he saw her.
“Alina?”
She ran up the street toward him, golden hair streaming in the wind.
“Ugh!” she groaned, stomping her feet when she reached him. “Iknewyou would walk too fast and beat me! You are theworst, Burr.”
“Beat you?” Alexei repeated, still dumbstruck.
He had last written to Alina hundreds of miles ago.
“How did you even know I would get here today? Like, at this exact moment? Are you a sorcerer?”
“I’ve been following your GPS tracker ever since you stepped foot into Oregon, you dummy.” She shook her head at him, hands on her hips. “Well, before that, too.”
“Oh.” He blinked.
“Yeah, it doesn’t work great all the time, but I can usually get a vague read on where you are. And I saw that you were getting close, that you were near Timberline a couple days ago, andugh, I was supposed to be waiting for you! As soon as you stepped off the trail! And you beat me by, what, five minutes? This is so typical. I’m going to hate you forever for this.”
“Um. I’m sorry?”
“You should be. Also I love you.”
With that, Alina jumped forward, throwing her arms around Alexei’s neck. This show of affection threw his brain into gear, cemented that this was real. He had a funny desire to twirl his sister around in a circle, if only his pack wasn’t so damn heavy, and his knees didn’t hurt so damn much.
“Alina,” he said into her hair, fighting off tears. Russian slipped out without thought: “Ya skuchayu po tebe, Alinachka.”
“I missed you too, Alyosha.” She gave his neck an extra squeeze.
He added, in English, getting a hold of himself: “Thank you for coming to see me.”
“Of course I came to see you!” She stepped back and squinted at him. “You told me to. We’re getting ice creams at Eastwind, right?”
“I didn’t…”Alexei shook his head. And smiled. “Yes. Yes, let’s go.”
And so he walked down Moody Avenue toward Wa Na Pa Street with his sister, and his knees hurt just a little less with each step.
They had to wait in line at Eastwind, which wasn’t surprising, considering Alexei had managed to hit Cascade Locks in the middle of a weekend, the type of warm September afternoon that had everyone wringing out their final dreams of summer. And nothing said summer in the Northwest like a soft serve from Eastwind Drive-In, where even the small size seemed to run as tall as a toddler. Alexei had never once seen someone actually finish the large size. It seemed a colossal waste, but at the same time, there was something pure and fun about it. Alexei felt deliriously happy, waiting in line for one right now with Alina.
Once he and Alina had ordered their cones, both simple chocolate-vanilla twists, with a side of cheesy potato rounds for Alexei, they found a picnic table where Alexei could rest his pack, where they could hear the rush of the river. They both took their first bite. Alina went all in, one big chomp at the top, while Alexei always started with a careful lick around the edge of the cone, preemptively beginning the battle against drippage.
Alexei thought, if he had a phone, he would take a picture of this moment, his sister and the ice cream and the Columbia River, and maybe it would be his first ever Instagram post.
