The Long Trail: Section 2

My return to Vermont on year two of the Long Trail picked up where I left off. We arrived at the parking area at Route 9 near Manchester, Vermont in late morning in mid August. John and Jeff had returned as hike companions and well as Ruth. The day started with overcast skies. We had already dropped a car at our end point of the hike, several days away. I “skinned out” at approximately 26 pounds. That is, all the items in my pack, plus what I carried on my person, (trekking poles) etc. John was a bit heavier around 28 pounds, and Jeff of course weighed in at a whopping 38 pounds. We began to joke with Jeff, telling him his trail name was going to be “Heavy” Jeff wanted to be prepared for every eventuality, and always packed too much food.

We began the steep climb to the Nauheim shelter under overcast skies. The forecast was not promising. It had rained heavily the previous day. Showers were expected, and would turn to a steady rain in the evening. A light rain began to fall as we reached the ridge. We had passed the shelter and continued on our way. Jeff wanted to log 10-1 2 miles per day. The rain continued on and off. This was a little problematic, as we continually had to choose to put on our rain gear or risk getting soaked. Wearing waterproof gear can build up unwanted heat, and although I was carrying a lightweight poncho, I was sweating with the layer on. Reaching Goddard Shelter, I was of a mind to set up camp early. We would be set up before dark, prepared for the coming rain that was due in the evening. Jeff wanted to continue. He wanted to put on big miles, and already was thinking about home projects he needed to do after we hiked out. I was in no rush to get home to work! Against my better judgement, I didn’t put up a fight. We continued to hike on to Kid Gore Shelter. When we arrived close to dark, we were all a little soggy. My leather shoes had wet out, and my socks were soaking wet. A somewhat surly thru hiker was already occupying a bunk in the shelter. While John and Ruth decided to sleep in the shelter, Jeff and I hung hammocks nearby. Hanging hammocks by headlamp light is less than ideal, and I cursed myself for letting Jeff press us to the 13 mile mark in the dark. He was a late riser, and I an early one. I could have made the same miles by stopping early and rising early. I told myself that tomorrow, I would “hike my own hike” and not be pushed to accommodate his personal preferences.

During the night the rain continued, and was accompanied by some wind as well. It was cool in the morning, and I wore my lightweight down jacket and fleece while I ate breakfast. I packed up my wet gear and hung my socks off my pack to dry, donning a fresh pair. My boots were damp, but I had packed plastic bags to line them until they dried. We were in good spirits, but Jeff and I were clearly at odds over how the hike was going to proceed. Jeff was a manager where he worked and was used to being in charge. I had worked for myself for more than 30 years, and had hiked solo for a long time. I was not going to be taking orders.

My new lightweight hammock was quite comfortable, but I had been wise to bring a sleeping pad. It was cold in late August for hammock sleeping, with temperatures going down to 50 degrees overnight.

View from Kid Gore Shelter, Long Trail Vermont, USA

Sleeping in the shelters would have been warmer, even though they were only three sided affairs. So far, they had been occupied by both hikers that were following the LT (Long Trail) as well as hikers heading north on the AT (Appalachian Trail) All of us were a bit stinky from days without showering, and it’s wise to bring earplugs. Invariably, there’s at least one in the group that will be a world class snorer.

As we hiked along, the sun broke through the clouds and the day became warm. Our goal was to get over Stratton Mountain and reach the Stratton Pond shelter after the descent. It would be another 13 mile day. Before making the climb we encountered a gentleman offering a little “trail magic” He greeted us at the trailhead, offering homemade cookies to hikers. We felt a little guilty partaking, as we were just a day in and fully provisioned, but he insisted, and we knew it would make him feel better if we took one. It is not uncommon for locals to provide food or lodging or transportation to hikers on the AT. Some are past hikers themselves, and know that many hikers can use the extra calories and help far from home.

Perhaps it was the cookies, or the warm weather, but I got my second wind and began moving uphill at a solid pace. Ruthie was right behind me. She had been putting us to shame since the hike began. Ruth was small and thin, but carried her huge pack easily, and was frequently out in front of the group. Ruthie and I chugged up that mountain, while John and Jeff labored behind. I felt a bit bad for John, as the wet weather had caused him to develop a few blisters and he was not a person to crush the steeps. Ruthie and I arrived at the top and waited for John and Jeff to join us. When the arrived, Jeff wanted to climb the tower for a photo. I wanted to get to camp before dark. Ruthie was also anxious to get moving. After a bit of waiting we called up to them and let them know we were continuing. The trip down was just as fast, and I reached camp a few minutes ahead of Ruthie. We began to set up and await our companions.

Stratton Mountain Tower view, Stratton Mountain Vermont, USA

When John and Jeff arrived, I could tell Jeff was a bit miffed. He thought I should have waited for them, but I was not having it. We were all grown ups, and knew where we were going, separated by only 15 or twenty minutes. He’d chosen the stopping point, and I would not be arriving in the dark today. We didn’t argue, but we agreed to disagree over our opinions.

After dinner, Jeff and I headed out to our hammocks. The shelter had begun to fill up with hikers. It was as large shelter that slept 16. In the morning, John grumbled a bit about snoring hikers. It’s why I prefer to sleep away from the masses.

The weather was lovely on the following day, but we were definitely slowing down. The trail had become quite muddy, and it was difficult to navigate areas where the trail was a sea of mud or swampy water. Vermont is well known for it’s mud. Hikers on the AT have nicknames for the state such as “Vermud,” and trail has a wide variety of soil to cake on your boots. There’s the nice chocolate brown variety, the thick black oozing mud, and a light brown caramel that leaves a bit of silt and sand in your socks. Its’ a fine exfoliating treatment for your feet.

John was most unhappy with it, given his chewed up feet. When we crossed Route 30 and began to ascend Bromley Mountain we reached firmer ground. I could see John was looking forward to the end of our journey. Our day was uneventful, and we spent our final night at the Bromley shelter. In the morning we hiked out to our dropped car on Mad Tom Notch Road. The trailhead there was small and the road to the parking area unimproved. It was a bumpy ride out to pick up the shuttle car at Route 9, but we were finished early to Jeff’s delight.

The trip had gone fairly well this year, but I was nagged by doubts about next year’s sections. We were barely making 40 miles in our yearly trips. It would take forever to finish at this rate. We said our good byes and went in different directions across the compass. I would not see Jeff again for another year.