We arrived at Middlebury, VT, around 11 PM. Late to find accommodations, but we were not prepared to find that the inns were full. Middlebury College was having an athletic camp. As a result, all the rooms were taken.
As we were leaving Middlebury on Route 7, I spotted a small motel with a vacancy sign. We got the last room. It was small, but better than driving thirty miles to the next town.
The next morning, I dropped Dennis of at the trailhead to complete hiking the Long Trail. As he walked into the woods, I did not envy him, as I thought I might. It was cold and pouring, similar to the inclement weather we experienced on the first half of the trail. It seems that hiking in the Vermont rain is his fate.
It took me about three hours to drive to Hampstead, NH, where I stopped to visit the old house. Seeing it flooded me with thirty years of memories and lots of emotions. I didn’t want to stop at the beginning of the drive. I wanted to pull into the yard as I had done countless times before. Wisely, I took a look-see and backed out, heading to Matt and Aine’s house in Newton, MA.
The drive from Vermont, the farthest I have driven in a long while, felt like an accomplishment. With good directions and a tankful of gas, I arrived safely. Dennis does not like being a passenger. As a result, he chauffeurs me. Since I don’t enjoy driving, this arrangement works well for both of us, and I get caught up on my reading.
This morning, the youth group was up early, but was relatively quite. They certainly did not follow the leave no trace principles. They dropped wrappers on the ground, washed dishes near the water source, and left the seat up on the privy to attract varmint and flies.
We have about six miles to walk to get to RT 125 at Middlebury Gap, starting with a 1000 vertical climb. Why is it always up first thing in the morning?
We have thirty shelters to visit before reaching Canada. At my slow rate, it will take another 25 to 30 days, not counting zero days. We do not have time to finish hiking the LT before a writers convention that we have planned to attend in early August. We will need to decide whether to cancel attending the conference or stop the hike early. After last night’s late hike, poor rest, and sore feet, the latter is appealing.
There is no spring in my step today. I sound like Darth Vadar and each step is plodded like Godzilla’s. Since I usually start off before Dennis (he catches up quickly), I climbed Worth Mountain for about 45 minutes before I stopped to catch my breath, cool down, and wait for Dennis. Worth Mountain really was not worth all the effort. There was no reward—no glorious view, in fact, no views at all. In more than three weeks, the Green Mountains’ canopy and the socked-in peaks have provided only two glimpses of the range’s majesty.
Once again, the profile map leads us to believe the climb is easier than it really is. And the contour map is hard to follow since we never really know where we are.
Dennis and I discuss stopping. Dennis thinks we should stop, he is afraid that I might end up hurting myself in the next half of the Long Trail, which is much more steep and difficult. I don’t want to give in. I know that I can finish the LT as long as I go at my turtle pace. So what if it takes time—what’s the rush anyway? We opt to take a few day off in Middlebury, and then decide.
The last forecast was sunny for the foreseeable future. Vermonters must be short-sighted. Within twenty-four hours of that prediction it started to pour. Drenched, we stopped at a shed near the ski slope chair lift to change into dry clothes, don rain gear, and try to call Doug McKain. As usual, there was no phone service. When we left the shed, we started climbing again. Dennis commented that it did not make sense to be going down a ski slope and having to climb.
Middlebury Inn, one of America’s Historic Hotels
We did not know at the time that the road at Middlebury Gap was less than half a mile away, Within minutes of arriving at the trailhead, a woman stopped to give us a ride into Middlebury, about thirteen miles east. She mentioned several lodgings, but we decided to stay at the centrally located Middlebury Inn, one of America’s Historic Hotels. She also said how lucky we were to get there today because the roads would be closed for maintenance for the next several days and it would have been impossible to hitch a ride.
After a nice hot shower, we went to Two Brother’s Tavern for a local brew and hamburger. The atmosphere in the restaurant was welcoming and the servers very attentive. The food was plentiful and we left stuffed and ready for a nap.
When I checked my emails, I found out that my book Hadrian’s Wall Path: Walking into History was a finalist in the Florida Authors and Publishers Association (FAPA) presidents awards in the Adult Nonfiction category. The winners will be announced at the Awards Dinner at the FAPA conference in early August.
With this news, we made our decision. After 132 miles on the Long Trail, we were stopping. Dennis may return to complete the hike after the convention, if things work out.
Middlebury, VT
We contacted Doug and arranged for him to shuttle us on Thursday from Middlebury to North Troy, where we have the van. We will visit our daughter and her family until Monday, and then head home.
I’m disappointed for not completing the 272-mile wilderness trail. I’m proud for having hiked half, even if it is the easier portion. The record breaking rain, the unseasonable cold, and the difficult terrain challenged my physical limitations. Without Dennis’ assistance, I most likely would have dropped out sooner. This was my first—and last—wilderness hike.
In planning future adventures, I will take temperature into account. I can no longer deal with the cold. Perhaps hiking in sunny Italy will be more to my liking.
We were in no hurry to leave the shelter (9:15 AM), thinking that we were going only about 8 miles to Rt 73 (Brandon Gap) where the McKains would meet us. We looked forward to seeing them again and to having a warm shower and sharing a pleasant meal.
On top of a mountain, Dennis suggested getting naked or calling mom. Since there was no coverage, we continued on.
View of Great Cliffs on Mount Horrid
Today and yesterday’s trail was single-path on the side of a hill. Yesterday the hill was to my right; today it is to my left. I preferred yesterday. Having the hill on my right felt safer.
Dennis filtered water from a brook for lunch. I had a peanut butter sandwich and he had sausage. I love the flavor of the chilled mountain water.
The profile map looked like a big hump. In reality, it was a lot of ups and downs. I’ve come to equate the word “gap” with work. At one point we could see across the gap to the Great Cliffs on Mount Horrid. We will have to face those cliffs in a few days.
We stopped at the Sunrise Shelter to use the privy (sometimes referred to as the outhouse, the toilet, but never the latrine) and to call Doug to tell him we would soon be at the crossing. No phone coverage.
When we got to the trailhead there was still no phone service. We asked other hikers but like us, their phones did not work. One woman took down the phone number and said she would call the McKains and tell them we were at Brandon Gap.
We waited two hours. I manicured my nails using my Swiss Army knife, and then read. Finally, Dennis decided to climb up the “‘Great Cliffs” to try to call our hosts. That was when he discovered that we were in the wrong gap and still had nine miles to go.
View from the Great Cliffs on Mount Horrid
We decided to go back into the woods, find a water source, and stealth camp. It was almost a straight up climb up the great cliffs. We took off our packs to climb the last 0.1 miles to the lookout. (How much easier that was without our packs!) Dennis went to the edge to take photos while I stayed back 30 feet or so…I don’t like heights with open spaces.
Sunset on Mount Horrid
We continued up Mount Horrid. I can understand how it got its name—it is a ghastly climb. The sun was setting and we had not found a water source. At this time, the mosquitoes and noseeums came out in force. At times, I could hardly see, there were so many bugs in my eyes. I kept applying repellent, which does not keep the tear-suckers away. For some reason, Dennis does not attract the insects. Lucky him. Perhaps the commingling of my sweat and fear is an insect attraction. Whatever the reason, they drove me crazy.
We continued to hike in the dark for about two hours, my first lengthy night hike. Multiply my fear of going downhill by ten. My fear had us going about 1/4 mile/hr. We arrived at the Sucker Brook Shelter at 10:30. Except for the two hour rest at the trailhead parking lot, we had been traveling all day to complete about 14 miles.
The shelter was full and the best tents sites were taken. We erected ours on a slope near the brook. Dennis filtered water for a cold drink and went to sleep, too exhausted to cook. I was too achy to fall asleep. The pinkie and fourth left foot toenails are black, which mean I may lose the nails. Finally, exhaustion took over and I slept fitfully.
Jane calling her mother from near Bloodroot Mountain
During the night the rain pelted the shelter’s tin roof and kept me awake until about 4 AM. It is so dark in the woods, especially on a rainy night. You can’t see your hand in front of your face.
I was looking forward to seeing the Vermont stars, but the clouds and tree-cover have prevented me from star gazing. It’s hard to believe that tomorrow we will have been on the trail for three weeks.
Dennis has lost a lot of weight. I, on the other hand, have not lost as much. Though loosing weight was not a goal, it is an outcome to walking up and down mountains for eight or more hours a day while carrying around thirty pounds. So are the sore feet and legs, the insect bites, scratches and bruises, but these are to be expected. We both have been taking Advil at night, and Dennis moans in his sleep. We both move like old people in the morning as we set off on the trail.
I usually start off first because it takes me a good fifteen minutes to get warmed up and into a rhythm. Dennis eventually catches up, he is so much faster than I, especially downhill.
Today is my birthday, the second that I spend in the hills. The first was a five-day hike in the White Mountains of NH when I turned thirty. I did not want to celebrate, dreading the big “Three-O.” At that time, the young culture could not trust anyone over 30. At the same time, if you hadn’t “made it” by 30 your chances for success were slim. Being childless also complicated the conflicting emotions.
This time I rejoice turning 65. I’m old, grey-haired, and in good heath. I have had a great life and a wonderful partner to share it with. And, I no longer have to pay unrealistically high premiums for health care. Medicare at last!
Since we only had 8 miles to hike to the David Logan Shelter, we enjoyed a relaxing morning, leaving the shelter at 9:30 AM. This morning I added a packet of Romano cheese to my coffee instead of sugar. The taste was not all that bad, once I sweetened it, but the smell was not appealing. Guess I should put my glasses on before opening packets.
Romano-flavored coffee
Near Bloodroot Mountain I had phone connections and called my mother. Phone coverage has been almost nonexistent in the Green Mountains, especially for T-Mobile. Aftwards we snacked on Luna bars. The chocolate coconut is yummy!
Trying to cross a cluster of fallen trees, I was paying attention to placing my foot and hit my head on a protruding limb. I cut my forehead and it bleed profusely. There are so many things in the woods to look out for, especially for someone who does not have good peripheral vision.
We arrived at the shelter around 4:15. It took us six hours and forty-five minutes (including breaks) to hike 8.1 miles. Dennis said we must be getting old.
Gate for “Mr. Prickles” at David Logan Shelter
This shelter has a porcupine gate to keep “Mr. Prickles” out. Porcupines love salt and will chew shoes and anything the contains human sweat. They even chew the sweat off the steps where many hikers sit. “Hummingbird,” the twelve-year-old hiker, was afraid they would lick her hair. I’m not sure where she got that idea.
For a change, I was able to gather firewood, get water for shower and supper, and tried putting the tent in the shelter, but it was to large for the allotted space. It felt wonderful to clean up and put on the camp clothes. Warm weather makes such a big difference: 68° F at 5:30 PM.
Olive, stopped by but decided to hike on. Later, Hornet arrived. Nice to have others around.
After two days rest in Rutland, it was difficult getting back on the trail. We just missed the bus to the trailhead and had to wait an hour before the next one arrived. We started walking until late morning when the weather became overcast and cool (55° F). We’re jinxed!
Dennis at Willard Gap
With two days of sunshine (while we were in town), the path is drier and the leaves crunch beneath our feet. Though there are some muddy spots, we don’t have to avoid boot-sucking glop and ankle-deep puddles, making the walking almost relaxing.
After about a mile, we came to Willard Gap, where the LT and AT split. From now on, there will be fewer hikers. I look forward to reading the shelter registers and seeing what the LT hikers have to say.
When we arrived at Rolston Rest Shelter, we threw down our bedrolls and took a nap. Even though it was not very cold, I awoke shivering. Dennis held me until a warmed up, and then we lit a fire and I was able to help with the evening chores. It was wonderful to be able to participate and share the workload.
Jane drying clothes at the Rolston Rest Shelter
Since we were the only ones there, we set up the tent in the shelter. It’s about ten degrees warmer in the tent than outside of it.
Dennis on amateur radio at Rolston Rest Shelter
After supper, we sat around the campfire. I read and Dennis got on the ham radio, making lots of contacts. After the sun went down, we could hear the fireworks from Rutland. It was the best camping experience in nineteen days.
After all the cold nights, it felt warm sleeping in 70° F. I threw off all the blankets except for the sheet. Not complaining, though.
After breakfast, I went to a self-serve laundry mat, the first time in about 40 years. The attendant was very helpful and explained how to operate the coin-free machines. It cost $10 to wash and dry everything we had.
Once all the clothes was stored in the hotel, Dennis and I went to the Yellow Deli for lunch. There is an adjoining outfitters and I bought a pair of mittens there. Afterwards we went to EMS and I bought a warm sleeping shirt. Dennis replaced a pair of pants. We also bought a fuel canister and freeze-dried package of Katmandu Curry. Hope it’s a delicious as it sounds. We also bought cheap bathing suits for the hot tub. As you can imagine, sitting in the spa was heavenly.
On July 3, we worked on the computer, went to post office to post items home (about 4 lbs) and to send the package we had shipped to Rutland forward. As long as the package is unopened, there is not additional charge for mailing it ahead.
We are all set to get to the trail. I hope the good weather we’ve had the past two days continues and has dried out the paths. We could use a break.
Its the first of July and cold and rainy, just as it has been since we started the hike more than two weeks ago. Dennis used to brag that it did not rain on him.Nature decided to change his good fortune and make up for all those years of sunshine.
Dennis was the first up in the shelter and rekindled the fire. We all sat around it eating breakfast and preparing to climb Killington with an elevation of more than 4000 ft. Just as were were ready to leave, it started lightening and thundering, so we waited for a break.
Today, I wore rain pants and jacket, and dirty socks for mittens. I have nothing left that is dry and look forward to getting to Rutland, about a 12 mile walk over the mountain.
Last night I wrapped my lower torso in a black contractor bag, hoping to keep warm. Unfortunately, the plastic retained my sweat and soaked my bag. Perhaps putting under me will have a more favorable affect.
I don’t mind walking in a light rain, but the torrential downpour makes it difficult to walk, adds unwanted water weight, and makes the trail slippery. Dennis was dragging. I think the cold, lack of sleep, and the dreary day was taking its toll. He was looking forward to staying at Cooper Lodge, taking a nap, and then getting on the amateur radio.
We we disappointed when we got to the lodge on Killington Peak. It is dilapidated. The fireplace has been walled in, the windows are broken, and the door does not latch. It was dank and dark. I changed out of my wet clothes into my sleepware, the only dry clothes left. Dennis boiled water for Ramen Noodle soup. We don’t usually have a warm meal at noon, but we needed it to warm us. It also provided Dennis with the electrolytes he needed to energize him.
Climbing down from Killington was equivalent to an obstacle course. Overflowing rivers, slick rocks, down trees, and fallen rocks impeded our way to Route 4.
At Rt 4, we took off our muddy outerwear and donned our camp shoes. We feared no one would give us a ride if we were caked in mud. We managed to get the last Diamond Express bus (6:30 PM) into Rutland. The fare: $2.00 each.
The driver, Michael, was very informative and listed our options. We choose to stay at the Holiday Inn. It is on the city bus line and for 50 cents (25 cents for Seniors) we could get into downtown. What a deal!
As we lay comfortably in the tent, Dennis mentioned how difficult it was for hikers to be intimate. Too cold, too tired, too stinky. We both have a mummy bag, which makes cuddling difficult. Looking forward to our next “zero” (rest) day in Rutland.
The 3.7 miles to the Clarendon Shelter were difficult. Coming into Clarendon Gorge, I slipped on the granite slate and banged my elbow. It was my 11th fall and the first to draw blood. Dennis helped me bandage it up because I could not see the cut.
Crossing the Bob Brugmann Bridge wasn’t scary as long I as I didn’t look down. It bounced a little, but the sides helped me feel secure as I trod over the gorge.
Bob Brugmann Bridge
After crossing the road, we had a gruesome 600 ft vertical climb. We must be getting stronger because it only took us half and hour to scale.
We stopped at the shelter for lunch. For the first time in several days, the sun shone and we took advantage by basking in it for about an hour.
We are getting accustomed to hiking. Everything has a place and is easy to find. Our legs are getting stronger, and we are increasing our daily mileage. Dennis is faster so he usually goes first, especially down hill. He has been hiking in the woods since he was a child and has developed a rhythmic technique for hopping down a slope. I favor my right leg (so ankle and torn meniscus). I am very cautious. Dennis says that at my rate it will take us all summer to complete the LT. My response? What’s the rush?
Unfortunately, we should have noticed the approaching clouds. We still had 5.8 miles to the Governor Clement Shelter where we planned to stay for the night. The temperatures dropped with the rainfall. The rivers overflowed and we had to take off our shoes twice to ford the icy waters. Doing so takes time and cools us off.
Hiking in the rain.
My foot stuck in the mud and I fell into the pigsty-like mush. Unhurt but covered with sludge, I was unable to get up without Dennis’ help. I would have looked comical to an outsider to see me trying to extricate myself from the mire.
Jane warming by the fireplace at the Governor Clement Shelter
What a treat it was to arrive at the shelter and find that other hikers had started a raging fire. Shivering, Unembarrassed, I took off my sodden clothes in front of the warming flames and put on my simi-dry sleepwear. Everyone was welcoming and made room for us to put out our bedrolls and dry our clothes by the hearth, the first I have seen in a shelter.
One of the hikers, “Hummingbird,” is 12-years-old. She is walking with her father “Goose,” whose trail name comes from the wingman in the movie Top Gun. He was his daughter’s wingman. Other hikers include “Bits,” and “Bacon”—all LT hikers. “5-0-Three” was also there. She is walking the AT to raise money for Christopher Reeve Foundation.
We left the shelter and headed for Wallingford. The trail crossed a raging river. Dennis walked up a found a place that we could hop stones to get across. He helped me a “Quaker” cross. While I was waiting for Dennis to find a suitable crossing, a couple with a young puppy tried crossing the river. The woman fell in. The puppy, managed well and bounded up to Dennis and back. It was surely enjoying being in the woods.
Victorian Inn at Wallingford VT
As we entered town, we saw the Victorian Inn Dining and Lodging. On our way out we stopped to see if there was an available room. The proprietor told us that the inn has been only a restaurant for more that twenty-five years. I wonder why they never revised the sign.
It took us a long time to hitch a ride into town. After dropping her husband and son at the trailhead, Elisa offered to take us into town (six miles away).
After distributing the food pickup between the two of us, we decided to have lunch at Sal’s Pizza before returning to the trail. We had to wait outside twenty minutes for the pizzeria to open. Of course, it rained.
As we were leaving, a patron overheard us talking about getting a ride back to the trailhead. He offered to take us while his pizza cooked. Vermonters are very generous with their time.
Today’s walk was our easiest and shortest. We set up the tent at Minerva Hinchey Shelter and enjoyed a turkey dinner made of Stove Top Stuffing and deli turkey. Missed the cranberry sauce, though.
Cold with high winds. A tree fell just as I was walking by. Yes, when a tree falls in the woods, it makes a noise. Scared the daylights out of me.
Since there was only one other hiker, “Quaker” in the shelter, we set the tent up in it to stay warm and, hopefully, dry it enough for Dennis to patch the leak with duct tape. Glad we did because it rained all night.
Shared a coffee with “Quaker.” Nothing like a Starbucks Coffee to start the day.
