Right now I am on the Amtrak heading out of Portland, ME to reach the start of Vermont’s Long Trail.
The Long Trail
For several years, I have wanted to do another LT thru hike, in Fall, when the foliage turns Kodachrome. I plan to spend almost two weeks backpacking where I’d finish at Killington’s Long Trail Inn.
The Inn at Long Trail
After doing several hikes in preparation for this adventure I decided to be reasonable about my daily mileages. I’ve dialed in a 10 mile per day clip, a reasonable compromise, in respecting the difficulty of the tread and elevation changes, decreasing length of daylight, and likelihood of below freezing night time temps.
I’m trained up adequately. In the last month I have walked across England, did two days with an overnight backpack in reaching four 4,000 foot peaks in the White Mountains, did a couple of day hikes in Baxter State Park, and put in two sessions of strength training at the local YMCA.
I’ll backpack 105 miles over the Long Trail, which predates the AT. This will be the third time I’ve walked this section, which coincidentally is also a large part of the AT through VT. I walked this section in 2007 on my 5.5 month long northbound AT thru hike. In 20011 I teamed up with General Lee in completing an August northbound Long Trail thru-hike. It was marked by an historic weather event named Hurricane Irene which devastated Vermont to the tune of billions of dollars. Seventeen inches of rapid rain flooded thousands of houses, businesses, and even lifted several antique covered bridges and sent them careening downstream to be reduced to broken sticks. To read my daily LT journal and view photos from 2011 go here.
I’m more than 10 years older than the last time I walked this tough Vermont Trail. I am still not 100% healed from my April 13, 2022 left shoulder replacement surgery.
I hope that my training is adequate, my daily mileage goals are reasonable, and I stay injury free. I’m carrying 5 days of food, planning a resupply and hotel stay in Manchester Center. I hope to post to my blog daily- so consider subscribing.
This morning’s daily I-Ching reading is from The Wanderer (Hexagram #56). Receiving it is just what I needed to assist me in approaching things that have come up.
“Wandering, you come to a resting place and use an axe to establish the rich comforts of home. Prepare for change. Avoid making any commitment to any situation. This is the time to gather information, and be willing to adapt. You are wandering in unfamiliar territory without a map. Circumstances may change at any moment, but you will be safe if you observe ground rules. Continue to develop the ability to cope with the unfamiliar, moving cautiously and slowly“
Next, I just listened to a one-hour podcast (<-open link) from “ Trails Around the World”. It is an interview with Stephanie Langer, AKA Pancake, a 2018 hiker who completed a southbound thru-hike of the 273-mile Long Trail ( LT) in Vermont. The LT is the oldest long distance hiking trail in the United States, predating the Appalachian Trail. It is rugged, challenging, and heavily forested. Most people hike the LT northbound as I did in August of 2011. Listening to this interview inspired me.
-My mother’s house where I grew up has been sold. She spent 85 of her 94 years on a small farm.
-I have experienced significant back pain since September 2020.
-My mother Isabel died due to complications from Covid-19 on Feb. 7.
-I have back surgery scheduled for April 7.
After a year in Covid-19 quarantine, I received two doses of the Pfizer vaccine over a month ago, which is a huge relief.
After what may be a 3-month recovery from my surgery, I plan to take some time to be by myself and process how my life has changed and what these changes might mean. I know of no better way for me to do that than heading back on the Trail for a month.
I am not sure if I will be ready, but my plan is to spend the month of September re-hiking the Long Trail, but this time from the northern terminus on the Canada/Vermont Border 273 miles down to Massachusetts. I have always wanted to experience the full majesty of New England’s technicolor fall foliage display for an extended time. The colors intensify to a peak level, and while I may have to shift the start date a little, my 2-3 mile per hour hiking pace should align with the speed that the leaves proceed to gain color as the event starts in the north and moves south.
In the mean time, I plan to keep consulting the I-Ching each morning, take care of my home and camp, reconnect with my family and friends, and pursue any new angles and opportunities that may come my way.
It will be good for me to finally have something planned for Vermont this September!
Guthook is profiled in today’s Bangor Daily News. He released his Camden Hills Hiking App, for iPhone, with plans for Android release. I was involved with field-testing the App when Guthook and I were hiking the trails in Camden Hills State Park last year. We both agree that hiking there is excellent preparation for any adventures on the Appalachian or Long Trail (in Vermont). The app is a interactive map with color coded trails from the park, with a moveable blue dot that places you right on the trail. Intersections and key features are backed up with photographs and fact sheets about those GPS points. Read the whole article below.
Whoopie Pie is the trail name of area code 207 resident Amy Neinczura. Amy thru hiked the AT southbound and has been writes frequently on her WordPress blog at http://mainethewaylifeturnedout.wordpress.com about how tough it is to walk the line with one foot still on the trail and the other feeling around for the correct path in the “shower world”, as we hikers term the 9-5 work-a-day-Janie world.
So give Amy a warm welcome.
In the continuing series of “What Have I Learned From Hiking?”— Here’s Whoopie pie!
“if you keep going, you will get there. if you stop, you won’t.” i repeated this over and over again to myself on my solo southbound thru-hike of the AT, especially on the last 700 miles of the trail, when all i wanted to do was stop. my trail love who promised to go to springer with me changed his mind around daleville, virginia. suddenly i was hiking alone again, as i had started in maine, only this time i was in the part of the trail that i knew the least about and feared the most, the south. as an early southbounder, i did not have the comfort of a bubble with me, a bubble ahead of me, and a bubble behind me like northbounders do. i truly felt the weight of the pack on my shoulders, weight that refused to give up but felt little enthusiasm to continue. i would learn the difficulty of hiking, and existing, without a community.
in daleville, i bought pepper spray, perhaps as a symbolic gesture to soothe my fear. a family friend and former thru-hiker who lived in roanoake suggested that i buy the trail maps in addition to the data book that i was using, so that i could triangulate camping spots furthest from roads, from civilization, the least accessible to weirdos. i learned to spot the trail bums, the “hikers” clad in jeans listening to their radios and eating out of cans at shelters, and i take off as quickly as i dropped my pack to read the register.
it turned out that i did not need the pepper spray. most section hikers, day hikers, and townspeople who picked me up hitch-hiking would exclaim, in the most incredulous tone imaginable, “you are hiking ALONE!?” day hikers would give me every apple and granola bar they had packed, as if i did not have a pack full of instant mashed potatoes, dried cranberries, and cheap sugar cookies from food lion. on the virginia creeper trail, i met a church group who promised to pray for me. in the day prior, i met another hiker who offered to let me shower, eat, and spend the night when i reached big balds. he was one of three strangers-turned-friends who put me up during my thru-hike. i will always remember stopping at the parking lot at carver’s gap in the roans and having a man say in the most darling tennessee accent, “would you like some home-made tennessee molasses?” somewhere around the smokeys, i was offered shots of home-made moonshine, and hated the medical predicament that stopped me from saying yes.
i met all of those people, and experienced that generosity, on good days. i spent much of my last 700 miles in tears, and i did not have a community of people to cheer me up. i wanted to physically challenge myself, but i made the challenge harder than it needed to be. i did indeed make it to springer. i would not realize until the following year how much more pleasant the AT could be.
in the summer 2011, i returned to the AT northbound, only for my favorite section, New England. i started at the ny/ct line, and headed north, intending to switch to the long trail. soon i realized the joys of hiking within a community, a group of people excited to see me arrive at the shelter or campsite, people who suggested shelters or campsites or dartmouth frat houses where i was not initially planning on staying. with trail friends, i had a reason to build campfires and stay up late, or at least hiker late. i had swimming partners-in-crime, and inn-at-the-long-trail partners-in-crime, and work-for-stay partners-in-crime. needless to say, when i reached the maine junction, i turned east towards home.
hiking alone southbound, many of my memories consisted of, “yep, i cried going up that mountain. oh yeah, wesser bald, i cried that day. the smokeys? yep…” it starts to sound a little PATHETIC, really. yet northbound this past summer, i left a trail of laughter. i would say my same line over and over again, “NO LAUGHING ON THE DOWNHILL!” then i would promptly burst into laughter, and lose my footing.
nevermind my digressions. my need for community, and my ability to benefit from it, is one of my most cherished trail lessons. my trail lessons are so pervasive that they are strewn across my memory like a gear bomb that i trip over when i need to use the privy in the middle of the night. no, not a gear bomb. true confessions: because i am such a minimalist, i created very unimpressive gear bombs. my trail lessons are stowed and neatly packed in the exact same spot of my mental backpack, just like my aqua mira and alcohol stove and hubba hp and other possessions. that way, whenever i need to pull one of my trail lessons out of my pack for strength, i can efficiently find it.
What have you learned from hiking? A challenge to hiking bloggers
From newenglandoutside.com
“Hiking has taught me a lot about life and gear over the past 15 years. What has it taught you? My challenge to fellow hiking bloggers is to write a short post about what you have learned from hiking.
Maybe you learned the meaning of life or maybe you learned that wool is itchy, there are no wrong answers. Keep it simple and fun, I think it will be interesting to see what everyone is learning on the trail.
If you post to Twitter, then add hashtag #hikelessons”
I read the above about this challenge a few weeks ago , when it was reposted on my friend Guthook’s blog- Guthook Hikes !
My plunge back into hiking came at the end of my middle years, after being introduced to it by the UMass Outing Club, in 1967. Backpacking eventually was derailed by decades of hard work, family obligations, and the accumulation of too much stuff that eventually grew into a pile so cumbersome that I am still pushing my way through it all. It took formal retirement in 2002 for me to return. I’m beyond thrilled to report that I’ve walked over five thousand miles, and have spent over a year out of my past four doing what I love best.
Uncle Tom in NY, 2007 AT
SO: What have I learning from all this hiking?
-I treasure the stripped down experience of walking north where I can trade in my routine, everyday life for unexpected adventures. Walking forward can be unpredictable, yet it happens within a framework of much simpler goals, framed by more expansive views (“ I have to get way up on that ridge today, then see where I might end up by late afternoon or evening”.). So much happens in a day when you wake up early and move though woods, deserts, or fields and encounter animals, insects, plant life, and other people who are also walking around.
Backpacking allows me to embrace simplicity, resourcefulness, vitality, community, and adventure all in one fell swoop. Hiking is a universal experience that ties the ordinary adventurer to Odysseus, Daniel Boone, Shackleton, and other important explorers who inspire us to go places. I consider myself fortunate to be on the list of individuals who seek encounters with nature on a twenty-four hour-a-day, all-day, months at a time periods.
-I have learned to deal with adversity by conserving my psychic energy in order to focus on moving ahead, even if it means walking backwards sometimes. While I walk, I strive to reduce the time I spend in tension and indecision.
-I am more ready to pass through what I call the “open doors” that present themselves at intervals during a hike. There are two major approaches to dealing with a long distance backpacking trips. One is to follow the “ be prepared” school of thought exemplified by hikers like Terrapin Flyer and Granite who cooked and dehydrated all the food needed for some 160 days of walking, then packed it all into 30+ boxes that were shipped to themselves along the PCT. The alternative approach is one taken by Richard Wizard, who never mails himself food, but prefers the challenge of making do with what he can sift through along the way. I used to be a hiker who was locked into over preparation due to expecting some worst case scenario, but have now relaxed a great deal in my fretting about what could go wrong. See that bunch of campers off the trail over there who might be having a good time? I now walk over to them and ask, “Who are you guys and what’s up ?”
-Hiking is a hardware and software reset that restores my health and vitality. I have lost as little as 17 and as much as 33 pounds on my long hikes. Losing weight is no big deal- most of America is on some sort of weight loss program, but the thru-hiker program is unique in that the weight continues to drop despite consumption of vast volumes of food, up to some 6,000 calories a day. I can remember times when I felt like a super-human, throwing down marathon length distances on a daily basis for weeks at a time. It just doesn’t seem like it could happen, but it does.
-Lessons learned on the trail extend to life off the trail. Sayings that may ring hollow chime brilliant when you are walking along a trail. “Momentum helps”, “Just get moving”, “Stop and smell the roses”, “Share”, “Hike your own hike”, “Early to bed and early to rise”- the list is endless. All of these aphorisms have deeper truths that reveal themselves with increased visibility under travel conditions. Every single one of them also applies when off the trail.
-People make the trail. I started the Appalachian Trail on my birthday, March 27, alone. However, I met several other hikers at the first campsite who became best friends. Not only did those same people reach the Katahdin summit with me on Sept. 16, 2007, but three years later General Lee, Richard Wizard, and I walked together to complete the 2,760 mile Pacific Crest Trail. General Lee and I thru-hiked Vermont’s Long Trail this past August. My most satisfying memories are replays of scenes where there are other people present. Here’s my favorite AT photo – a blurry one taken into the setting sun in Virginia just past the Thomas Knob shelter.
Lee, Queso, and Denny Dog
In the photo MeGaTex is hiking up a lushly planted hill “in formation”, with Denny Dog close on the heels of General Lee in the lead. We call ourselves MeGaTex, representing the states where the members live. We’re planning another big one for 2013.
I spent 25 days in August backpacking the 270 mile Long Trail in Vermont. Here’s the lowdown on gear that worked well, and what didn’t:
Kitchen Group:
Everything OK here. Nothing to be improved with the Four Dog Bushcooker LT1 kit I have stuffed into the Snowpeak titanium 700 ml pot. I used one box of Coghlan’s hexamine tablets and a single bottle of yellow Heet for the whole hike. Supplementing those with wood allowed me to boil twice per day. The Steripen worked fine, but the relentless humidity cause the unit to act as if it is wet, faulting the red light upon immediate use. The fix is to dry the electrodes. Different fabrics produce different results. You have to find one that works, dry cotton works best. I continue to be impressed with my food bag, the Ursack Minor. It survived the whole 5 month on the PCT and now the LT with no rodent holes. The thing works!
Pack Group:
My Arc’teryx Altra 65 continues to be a concern. I love the pack’s storage features and the comfort of the waist belt and the shoulder straps, but the expandable waist pocket on the right sideended up with puncture holes, just with less than a month of normal use. The sternum strap also was ripping apart at the stitching.
Customer service is still sub par. To clarify, I did eventually receive a new waist belt and sternum strapunder warrantee, but it took some work to get there. Initially two customer service representatives dealt with me- neither communicating with the other until I pointed that situation out. Arc’teryx also wanted me to send the whole backpack to them for repair/replacement, which was unnecessary, since both the waist belt and the sternum strap detach. I had to point that out to them as well. After I sent a photo of the two problems, they agreed that I didn’t need to send the pack back. then it took 3 weeks from the time I first contacted them until I received my parts. Another bummer was that they broke the shipment into 2 parts, with the sternum strap arriving in my mailbox via USPO. A week later a note from FEDEX appeared on my door, informing me that it was their last delivery attempt (It was the only attempt.). Then I learned that Arc’teryx stipulated that an adult with a valid picture ID would need to be home to personally receive the box from the agent. Irritating inconvenience.
Shelter Group:
I only used my Tarptent -Moment two nights on the trip. Those were nights where I hung out with Paddy-O. The rest of the time, I was content with staying in shelters.
Sleeping Group:
I loved the comfort of my Exped down mat 7. I put two tears into my 1 Ibex long wool tights, which I use as camp clothing, and I sleep in them, preserving the cleanliness of my Western Mountaineering 40 degree down bag. Love the light, warm tights, but they are prone to tearing, especially if your legs have just been washed, and are not dry and smooth. Both tears occurred as I was carefully pulling the tights on.
Clothing :
A new item for me was the Western Mountaineering Hooded Flash Down jacket, at 9 oz. I love it, but had to be very careful with all the humidity and rain we encountered. It is light enough that I was able to toss it in a drier with the rest of my clothes when I needed to dry it out a bit.
I started with a new pair of New Balance/On The Beach boots. No blisters, but the stitching around the toe cup started to unravel. I have written about this issue before, and yet a year later, the same exposed stitching is supplied.
Electronics:
My iPod Touch took a big hit, shattering the screen when I dropped it on a ledge at Mt. Mansfield. It is coming back from repair, at the cost of $114. I will put an Invisible Shield on it to try and do better with protecting the screen. There was never enough sun to charge the Solio solar charger, but it provided good service as a charging battery using the wall charger.
Navigation:
The $9.95 4th Edition Long Trail map is superb, waterproof, and places the whole Trail on the two sides. My only suggesting is to list elevations on road crossings and shelter sites.
While I snapped the middle section of one of my my aluminum Leki poles, Leki’s customer service continues to be the best in the business. I have a Leki bandana that lists the customer service phone number on it. I called, got a real human, and she confirmed the model and that I needed the middle section. There was no need to verify breakage, by going to a dealer, or sending it in. I didn’t come home to find a note on the door that required me to leave work to be here in a couple of days to get the replacement . – I came home two just two days later to find a UPS box that put the right part in my hand.
Summary
The 270 mile Long Trail was tough on gear. Things broke that didn’t on the ten times longer Pacific Crest Trail. I would suggest that anyone undertaking a long hike on the Long Trail to be ready to improvise, have some extra cash on hand to replace items that break, and budget some extra time to get to a phone, or a gear store to replace things. Your experience may differ. I’m tough on things.
“Here I am, safely returned over those peaks for a journey far more beautiful and strange than anything I had hoped for or imagined. How is it that this safe return brings such regret?”- Peter Mathessien
I had a big experience yesterday that I plan to write more about soon in a longer piece. I received a most beautiful multimedia painting/collage from my good friend Joe, who spent over 100 hours on an image that I had of Mt. Shasta. The photo does not do it justice, but here it is.
Shasta
It’s been almost two weeks since I came back from a month of backpacking the Long Trail in Vermont. I reached for Ray Jardine’s Beyond Backpacking last night where the book opened to a brief, three page section entitled Re-Entry. I swear I don’t remember ever reading, or even seeing this chapter before. A lot of hiker are cynical about the Ray-Way, but I consider the guy a genius. Jardine writes, “How does someone who has just come out of the woods after several months on the trail adjust back to the ‘real’ world ? My answer is: only superficially.” Yep. The best I have worked out so far is this : one foot in and one foot out of this world.
I’ve come back from these long walks in different states, the worse being after my 2007 AT thru hike, where I plunged into a depression that scared me silly. I was much better after my 2010 PCT thru hike, and this time I actually feel closer to the” new improved version” I joke about.
I love my life, my, wife, my varied jobs, my family, my motorcycles, my neighbors, my friends- its a long, long list. I feel it all today, and am very grateful.
I am highly motivated and finally able to to simplify my life right now- So far, Auntie Mame has helped me rid my room of over 50 pounds of clothing dating back decades. I cleaned out the garage and the porch since I came back. I took a big box of books to the Rockland library. More to come. I am eating much better after consuming vast quantities of nutritional trash for the past month ( But it tasted so good!). I take great pleasure in harvesting vegetables from the weed-choked garden that greeting me back. I am gorging daily on tomatoes with mayonnaise/salt/pepper. I made a borscht last week where everything but the beef, broth, and sour cream came from the garden.
I have planned some hikes. I got out last Saturday and hiked over 11 miles in the Camden Hills. I have a day hike up to the Bigelows scheduled for this weekend with Auntie Mame and Clarkie. Next weekend we do a backpacking overnight in the Whites with V8 joining us as well.
In October I plan to attend the American Long Distance Hiking Association’s Gathering in North Adams, MA.
Rolling out the wheelbarrow and stacking wood helps.
“Like most amazing things,
Its easy to miss,
And easy to mistake.” I’ve Had It– by Aimee Mann
This is the last day I’d wake up, stuff away my Ibex wool sleeping underwear and then slide into my cold, wet, stinking, and salt-saturated hiking shirt. Even better, it will be the second time in a year when I’ve had the fortune of thru-hiking a National Scenic Trail to the Canada border in the month of September. Last year I walked 2,600 miles to reach the same defoliated strip, but on the west coast in Washington, where I walked into British Columbia on Sept. 27th.
The Weatherman was out of the starting block first today, followed by General Lee and then me.
The miles are now few but adversity continues to dog me. The climbs up Burnt (2608’) and Carleton ( 2670’) mountains were slippery and steep, and were each about 500 feet of ups. On the back sides of both were long stretches on wet boulders and ledges that were interspersed with serious mud pits.
Tough to the End
Today I also had the benefit of just one trekking pole. I was not able to find a hiking stick, despite the debris strewn about.
I was hiking behind Lee when I approached a particularly nasty mud run where a half-submerged, black, glistening log was the only path over and through the mess. I had successfully dealt with this deal before- many dozens of times, and expected that my slow, careful movements would bring me to the other side without peril, but the Long Trail was determined to leave me with a special souvenir. I quickly slid off the log, and experienced a most despicable situation where first my right leg went into the mud, where I didn’t stop sinking until I was up over my boot, tall gaiter, and then above my knee! So many times I forget to take pictures of these worst things that happen to me, as I’m generally fully engaged in trying to extract myself from misery. But Lee was within eyesight and I shouted out to him to come back and take my picture.
Here it is:
Help!
Later, when we caught up with The Weatherman, he was also covered up to his knees in dried mud, where he had also slipped off that same log into the same sucking mud hole.
Two Partners in Grime
It was so sweet a feeling to make it through this long backpacking trip.
Northern Terminus of the Long Trail
A final planning dilemma awaits any Long Trail thru-hiker once the terminus of the Long trail is reached. First, a 1.3 mile hike out on what is known as Journey’s End Trail, which leads to a tiny parking area at the end of a gravel road. Normally, a vehicle can traverse the 1.2 mile Journey’s End Road, but enter the aftermath of Hurricane Irene, which reached to the end of the US to screw things up. Auntie Mame and V8 had planted my Caravan at Jay Auto, some 4+ miles away, directly south, on a little-traveled gravel road that I had intended to walk ( maybe even run) with no pack, where I’d drive back and pick up Lee and Weatherman at the end of the Journey’s End Road.
But one last dose of Trail Magic still awaited us, here at the end of our hike.
Yesterday, at the top of Jay Peak, we were killing time in the summit building/Tramway Station where the gondola was depositing folks who wanted to get on top without hiking. It was odd seeing well-dressed ladies in gold jewelry walking with pocketbooks and heading up the last boardwalk to the summit (3858’) to snap photos of the expanses all around us. Most of them steered a broad course from anywhere near us, but one young bearded fellow came right over.
“You guys thu-hiking”, he asked ?
“ I want to help you guys out”.
Soon the hiker-trash bond was established when we learned that Crunch had just came all the way up himself, finishing his own LT thru just last week.
Backstory–>>Crunch has been up here in the Northeast Kingdom after working at a dog sledding camp. The business has a web-site that was accessed by a 67 year old retired toy designer from Chicago who wanted to thru-hike the Long Trail. This gentleman was fit, and had done a bit of hiking, but was not comfortable heading up into the wilds of Vermont and hiking solo. He was seeking the services of a local “sherpa” who would carry all his food -allowing him to shoulder a much lighter pack, thus ensuring his chances at completing the hike. Crunch time.
Crunch also thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail, so he was an excellent candidate, who was well-suited for this unique business opportunity. So a fee was agreed upon – $2,000 payable to Crunch. But wait- it gets better. This gentleman was used to the good life. Even while hiking – he wanted to dine, drink, and sleep in style. He ( let’s call him “the sport”) agreed to prepare numerous gourmet food/wine mail drop packages that included the eats for both of them. In addition, town stops would be good, so the sport also booked separate rooms (when possible at the better Bed and Breakfast establishments) for both of them, and also had no problem purchasing all meals and incidental expenses for Crunch’s efforts. It mostly worked out, except for the day when the sport somehow made a u-Turn on the Long Trail and hiked backwards for several miles.
So, all we had to do today was reach the parking lot at Journey’s End today at 2 PM, where Crunch would drive us to my car in Jay. We told him that we heard the Journey’s End road was washed out by the hurricane, but Crunch assured us that in his high clearance 4WD Toyota there would be no problems.
We arrived at the parking lot at 1:40 PM , and then sat on our packs and waited until 2 PM, but no Crunch. Plan B.
We did what we knew best- started hiking out. The gravel road became progressively worse as we went on. It eventually morphed into one of the worse washed-out gravel roads I’ve walked on, and I’ve been over a few.
Washed out on Journey’s End road
There was a section of several hundred feet that with erosion in it that went over thee feet deep.
Eventually the road became passable and we were thrilled to see Crunch‘s white Toyota pickup heading toward us, to whisk us away to Jay Auto where my car started right up. Auntie Mame encouraged me to just go to the Jay Village Inn, which looked good and was right across the street from a huge convenience store/ cafe. There were no cars in the ample parking lot, so we were crushed to hear that the best they could do for us was $150 (“It’s the holiday weekend, we would normally charge $165.”). Bye.
Route 242 to Montgomery Center was closed due to the hurricane, so we had to take Route 100 south.
For the next four hours our spirits crumbled as we unsuccessfully sought to find a room to hole up in, with rates no lower than $140 no matter where we turned. We decided to work our way over to Burlington, where Lee and The Weatherman could catch public transport to Montreal ( Lee) or New Jersey ( Weatherman). We reasoned that there must be a Super 8 or a Motel 6 over there. The Weatherman had two free rooms from his Hilton Honors membership, and there was a Hilton in Burlington, but after he finally made the contact was informed that the offer was only for weekday stays. We plunged even deeper into the vortex of anxiety when we encountered a huge traffic jam on Interstate 89 into Burlington. We were not able to establish any rational solution to find a strip where there were national hotel chains.
At this point we desperately aimed for the Burlington airport, with Lee at the wheel, but we found nothing but residences surrounding it. We were fried, it was now close to 6 PM, and Lee pointed to a grassy strip near a fence.
“Let’s just sleep there,” Lee pleaded, “Maybe we won’t get kicked out?”
Enter the skills of The Weatherman, who was able to fire up his smartphone, and get onto kayak.com and hotel.com, and successfully extract a phone number for Motel 6 nearby, where they had 1 room left, at just $89 with my AARP card discount. The Weatherman then programmed his phone into GPS mode, where it talked me through the rights, and lefts where a wonderful sight came into view- a huge, brightly lit Motel 6 flanked by a McDonald’s on one side and a Burger King on the other.
It’s distressing how soon after leaving the Long Trail that I became overwhelmed by something so simple as getting a room in Vermont, and in Burlington of all places.
It’s also true that things often come right at you where you appear to be least able to tackle a situation, yet something eventually emerges if you can just hold on and keep moving forward. Momentum helps.
I’ll follow up with some Post-hike thoughts about my experience and how gear worked (or didn’t). Thanks for reading, and special thanks to The Mayor and Genius, Auntie Mame and V8, Brad Purdy, Bad Influence, Duff/Lee/Susan , Paddy-O, Mr. and Mrs. Two Dinners, Crunch, Hurricane Irene, and of course MeGaTex.
Hazen’s Notch Camp to Shooting Star shelters- 13 miles
Today, the actual backpacking was more difficult than both the topographic map and the elevation profile would indicate. No new news here.
Up and over Buchanan ( 2940’), Domey’s Dome (2880’), Gilin ( 2940’), Jay Peak (3558’), Doll Peak (3409’), and the side of North Jay Peak ( 3438’) today. Seven of these guys! None characterized as easy walking, plenty of areas of blow-downs and washed away trail. There are mini-ponds on the trail where frogs have moved in and the dash away from under my feet when I squish along.
“The place smells like the bottom of an old terrarium,” quipped The Weatherman.
Going Down?
Coming down from Jay peak I encountered a new form of outcropped rock underfoot I hadn’t seen before, which looked like a crumbling schist that had some grip to it. But, as soon as I put my right foot down to it, my legs flew out from under me. I was able to drive both Leki poles straight down in the hopes of cushioning my fall, but a loud crack like a gunshot accompanied a clean break of my right pole, in the middle section of all places. I’ve broken lower sections on this set of poles 6 times, each time falling onto the pole in a heap, but it’s been a while since I experienced a total break. These poles held up well for the whole 2,600+ miles of the Pacific Crest Trail, and now the Long Trail crunched up and spit out a middle section!
My Arc’Teryx Altra 65 backpack took a big hit as I slid onto the jagged rock. The only thing that saved it from serious tears was a heavy rubberized section of fabric on the base.
Eventually General Lee, The Weatherman, and I landed at the Laura Woodward shelter. We were all beat up enough by the trail today that we were about to call it a day. Then we came to our senses. It was only 2 PM, with the Canada border just 10 miles North. We decided to lump out another 4.3 miles to the next shelter, which would cut our last day down to 6 miles or so.
Lee shot right up the remaining trail, but The Weatherman held no sway with the rain gods.
After just a half-hour of walking, a hard cold rain fell for the next 45 minutes. I took no chances and immediately slipped on the new pack cover, but chose to hike in my shorts and already soaked shirt.
Then I experienced a new dimension of discomfort that I’ve never encountered before. The rain proceeded to wash over me, moving from top to bottom. I had been having problems with the fabric of the hiking shirt abrading my nipples, to the point that my right one had been rubbed to the bleeding point. THAT has ever happened before. My nipples felt as if they were on fire ( approaching a Katy Perry video repeat). I believe that the water that washed down from my hat, hair, and now my upper shirt concentrated all the salt from my skin on the lower edge of the wave of water flowing over me. It wasn’t over yet, as the chafed sections of my crotch were the next victims of excruciating burning that lasted for the rest of the day’s hike. This enriched water/acrid bath eventually made its way into my boots resulting in severe burning of my toes and forefeet.
At 5:30 PM I finally made it to the Shooting Star Shelter, coming in right behind The Weatherman. The water source here was the most treacherous we’ve encountered yet. The shelter itself is on a huge domy rock, and the meager water source was over a series of smooth, slickrock- steep and now rain saturated. I survived by holding onto the tips of trees that were at the edges of the cleared areas. I had just two quarts that could be filled, and knew right then and there that the two quarts would have to suffice for tonight’s dinner and breakfast. It was so sketchy I can’t imagine that any normal person could have survived the descent without falling.
At the shelter we met Gary and Paul, two retired engineers from MA that were about to conclude their own Long Trail hike. They had been sectioning it off and on for the past 40 years. Gary’s trail name should have been “Old School”, because he was fully satisfied with and proud of his vintage 1970 gear- Kelty external frame pack, SVEA 123 white gas stove (“It’s the original- without the self cleaning nozzle!”), antique Zippo lighter, waxed leather boots, and even a Sierra cup. The list goes on and on. These guys usually tented, Paul did so tonight , and Gary told us that this would be the first time in those 40 years that he had shared a night in a Long Trail shelter with other hikers than his sidekick Paul.
Tom Jamrog's Weblog 