Long Trail 25: Abraham and Ellen- Part 1

Part One of a Two Part Series

Hiking the Long Trail in July had been a miserable affair. The steamy, hot days trekking on the rugged trails had exhausted me earlier than planned. I took the next several weeks off.

John and I had managed to complete the hike to the summit of Killington, and we mused about a return to the Green Mountain State to collect Abraham and Ellen.

The two peaks were also summits able to be crossed on the LT, but I had hiked that section several years ago. I remembered it being a painless hike, but that was then, and I was slower with less endurance now.

The two mountains are just over 4000 feet, and approximately three miles apart. A few lesser peaks sit between them, but once reaching the ridge, It’s a relatively drama free traverse over the mountains.

In my first hike years before, My companions and I had hiked up from Lincoln Gap and once at the summit of Abe, we sped across the peaks to reach Ellen.

We had spotted a car at the Appalachian Gap parking area. Our hike was approx.11 miles in total and accomplished in a day.

This time around, we would make it a weekend excursion. I planned to drive to Lincoln Gap and hike into one of the Long Trail shelters. The following morning we planned to summit both peaks, then overnight at the shelter again before hiking out Sunday. Total mileage would be the same, but we’d have an early start and a relaxed camping night before and after the hike.

Just days before our hike, local road construction caused the access road to the trailhead to be closed. We chose to start the hike from the Battell Trailhead instead. The distance to the campsite was almost identical, but our drive would be longer to accommodate the detour. We set out at noon on Friday, and made good driving time to the parking area.

The trailhead was down a long unpaved gravel road, and I winced as stones bounced up against my car’s paintwork and the suspension protested the abuse below.

The distance to the Battell shelter was two miles. The trail began with a gradual ascent. We crossed several dry stream beds along the way.

Water was non existent along the ridge, and we were concerned about having enough for the three days. The weather had been quite dry, and water sources were dying up on the trails. My topo map showed a source near the shelter, but it too might be dry. We carried four liters each to be safe.

A single car was parked in the trailhead lot when we began our hike to the shelter. We wondered if we might have companions sharing the shelter.

The temperature was cooling now in the late afternoon. The lower humidity made the ascent more bearable, and we took our time.

Arriving at the shelter we were indeed greeted by two fellow hikers, Jim and Bob. The brothers were of our age group, and were settled into the shelter. They were cooking on an old propane stove, and the smell of hot dogs sizzling over a fire was in the air.

The campsite looked like a battleground. A new addition was being built nearby, and a large group of trees had been felled to make room. They lay about the site in piles. There was a caretaker’s tent on a platform nearby, but he was absent today. I set about looking for a spot to hang my hammock, away from the shelter.

My friend John prefers to sleep in the shelters rather than set up a tent, and I enjoy my solitude and sleeping alone. Sleeping in the shelters means a roll of the dice on a good nights sleep. You can’t pick your bunk mates. Sometimes you win and some you lose. I preferred not to gamble.

I found two suitable trees, choosing from the few left standing within a reasonable distance to the shelter. I had carried my recently acquired Nemo Technest hammock. I had used the doublenest hammock a month ago in New Hampshire with great success. It did not come with a bug net, but I purchased a nice black mesh net on Amazon, and it was an easy setup.

Returning to the shelter, I found Jim engaged in a conversation with my friend John. John was unable to get in a word, as Jim breathlessly delivered a monologue on his recent adventures. He was a very nice fellow, friendly and kind, but clearly had stories to tell, and not enough folks to tell them to.

Bob watched from his camp chair. He was not an unfriendly chap, but certainly more reserved. Perhaps he was tired of his brother using all the oxygen in the room when they were together.

I finished boiling some water for dinner, and with direction from our new shelter companions found the water source at the site. It was running at just above a fast trickle, but reliable enough to fill my empty water bottle. I felt better now knowing we would have enough for the hike.

The campsite featured a wash pit not far from the shelter, and a privy a few hundred yards up the trail.

The sun made it’s exit behind the mountains and it began to grow dark. John had set up his sleeping bag in the empty space between Bob and Jim. I retired to my hammock on the other side of the campsite.

In the gathering darkness, I heard loud snoring. Already? I thought. It had been just minutes ago that Bob and John had entered the shelter. Jim was standing outside the shelter talking on his phone. He yelled at his brother and tossed something at him. He told John, “just hit him.”

Bob woke up and snapped at Jim.

” I won’t be able to get back to sleep now!”

Moments later he was snoring again.

Jim continued to talk on his phone for quite a while in the dark. I pulled a pair of earplugs from my pocket and screwed them into my ears. I felt sorry for John. He had gambled and lost.

I woke around 1:00. The moon cast a glow upon the site, and the stars shone like jewels though the mesh bug net. It was cold, and I rearranged my sleeping bag and liner to optimize and retain as much heat as I could. My sleep was broken by the chilly weather as I tried to get comfortable. I pulled the bag up to my chin and zippered it up fully, falling back to sleep.

When I arose in the morning, I peeked out of the hammock. I could see John walking behind the shelter. I approached him. He told me he had only slept for a half hour the entire night.

He had slept between Jim and Bob. Both had snored loudly. They created a rhythm, with one exhaling when the other inhaled. When not snoring, they coughed loudly and Bob had farted loudly. When Bob rolled, the pungent scent seeped from his sleeping bag. John, trapped in his own sleeping bag, had been unable to escape the drifting odor.

I tried not to laugh loudly when he recounted the story. I didn’t want to wake Jim and Bob!

I made a quick cup of coffee and stuffed a trail bar in my mouth. I decided I would eat later and instead get an early start before the sun had risen over the mountain.

John and I hid some of our sleeping gear off site rather than carry it over the summits. We would return for it later in the day. We shrugged into our packs and began climbing towards Mount Abraham.