Week Eighteen – Unexpected Adventures in Vermont

Hey there! We spent the week in Vermont with better weather than the previous week, but conditions turned difficult in other ways. We experienced the unexpected need to take two rest days in town, but the scenery in Vermont seemed to become more beautiful as the week progressed. Despite the general lack of heavy rains we fought hard to earn the miles that we hiked. The gratitude for the ability to continue pushing forward has never faded, and we’re still loving even the hard stuff! Here’s what’s been going on.

Day 120, Monday July 17: My alarm went off at 6am, and we got moving right away. We packed up our sleeping gear perfectly dry for the first time in a week. The enclosed shelter actually had a door, which kept the humidity and even the overnight rains at bay. The sun wasn’t quite shining yet but we didn’t expect any rain, although the sky was still shrouded in thick fog. We cooked our last packet of the pre-made oatmeal and split a protein bar, which was literally the last food we had in our bags. Perfect! We had planned to hike only three miles to the next road crossing, where we were going to try our hands–or rather our thumbs–at hitchhiking into town for resupply and a hostel stay. As we hiked through a peaceful deciduous forest, the distance seemed to be much longer than three miles. The air temperature was creeping up early in the day, and though the fog lingered the sun began to poke through. A few sunbeams shone through the green canopy above, a peace offering from the forest for the punishing rains of the previous week. We were slightly reluctant to get off-trail on a day that it wasn’t supposed to rain, but we definitely needed to resupply considering our empty food bags. Also, the air quality was once again extremely smoky so grinding out some high mileage seemed bad for the lungs anyway.

We emerged from the forest into a wide two-lane road, several miles from the town of Manchester, Vermont. We had reservations at a hostel on the south end of Manchester, and while we could have walked the many miles into town we decided to try hitching first to save the time, not to mention the wear and tear on our feet. Our AT friends Shaggy and Shades were also headed into town: Shaggy to also resupply and stay at the hostel, and Shades just to visit the small outfitter and hopefully find a replacement pair of shoes since his had torn a massive hole in the top. The four of us stood on the road seeming a bit lost at first. There was a small parking lot for the Appalachian Trail on the side of the road that we wanted to hitch from, and I reasoned that Meadow and I should walk upstream of the parking lot so if someone wanted to pull over into the lot they could. The two guys hung back in the lot to see what would happen, hoping to bum a ride from whoever pulled over for us. Meadow and I stood on the side of the road with our thumbs out, something that our parents probably told us not to do when we were young, and feeling very much like actual bums or hobos. After about 60 seconds of standing on the side of the road, Meadow and I laughing the whole time, a huge black pickup truck pulled over and a middle-aged man with kind eyes stepped out. He asked us if we were going into Manchester, and said that he’d be happy to give us a lift. We asked if there was room for two more, and since the kind man’s dog was riding along with him Shades had to ride in the pickup truck bed. (I got to sit next to the sweet dog Sadie!). During the fifteen-minute drive into town, the man told us that he was planning on doing some hiking in the White Mountains in a few weeks (us, too!) and would also be hitching so he was hoping to build up some good karma. He asked how long we were waiting for a ride, and after hearing that it was only a few minutes or less he pumped his fist in the air and said “Yes!”, apparently overjoyed that not only did he help someone but he did it promptly. I could see a city Fire Officer sticker in his window, and he had all of his family’s cell numbers on his truck speed-dial display. He asked us what we needed in town, and as we drove through he pointed out the outfitter, another shoe store for Shades, and a few grocery stores to choose from. He dropped us off at the Up for Breakfast diner and we said goodbye to him and Sadie, wishing him well on his trip into the White Mountains.

We walked up a narrow flight of wooden steps to the Up for Breakfast diner. We ditched our smelly hiking shoes and packs outside the door and slipped on our clean-by-comparison camp shoes before heading in. We each loved our breakfasts, and once again were able to eat all of it. There were pancakes, eggs, sausage and bacon, toasts, and bottomless coffee. I went with the eggs Benedict with smoked salmon and spinach and a ground mustard hollandaise…which was delicious, obviously. While we were eating, our old AT friend Sun God strode into the restaurant! It was great to see him again as well; I always seem to be surprised that we keep up with Sun God, since he is a much more experienced Thru-Hiker than we are. After breakfast we went to the Mountain Goat outfitter store. The Sawyer water filter Meadow and I had been using since Georgia had finally become clogged to the point where it was taking an unbearably long time to filter water. In addition to a new water filter, I also needed to buy new plastic bag food liners for my food bag. As I picked out what we needed, I chatted with the store clerk about the flooding in the area. While she hadn’t experienced any damage to her home, she said a lot of other folks in Vermont were temporarily displaced due to the flood damage. After leaving the outfitter, Meadow and I went to a sweet shop across the street for a maple creemee, which is basically just maple soft serve ice cream. We had heard they were delicious in Vermont, and we had heard right. The maple creemee’s were flavored with pure maple syrup harvested from one of the few stands of old-growth maple forests in Vermont…yum!

We took a few minutes in the local bookstore before heading into the Price Chopper grocery store. Meadow and I put our packs in one cart so we didn’t have to carry them, and used a second cart as our shopping cart. We wandered the aisles until we had enough food, collecting our usual assortment of pop tarts, protein bars, salty snack crackers and Combos, Knorr’s instant sides and tuna for dinner, and a few other things. We needed some more toilet paper, and they actually had the single rolls for sale wrapped in paper–score! As I approached the little box of individual rolls on the top shelf, there was a late-forties or early-fifties man staring at two rolls of toilet paper in his hands, hefting and staring at each of them as if he were trying to decide which one was more ripe. He had a short-trimmed black beard with a few flecks of white, and was wearing a gray t-shirt stretched uncomfortably tight over a rather large gut. When he saw me waiting to pick out my own ripe toilet paper, he looked at our cart of backpacking gear and asked us if we were Thru-Hikers. I said that we were, and he asked “The Long Trail or the Appalachian Trail?” I told him we were hiking the AT, and he responded with “No you’re not.” I hoped that maybe he just didn’t hear me. “Yep, we are Thru-Hiking the Appalachian Trail!” Still facing the toilet paper, the man said “No, you’re not. You’re not on the Appalachian Trail right now.” Not sure where he was going, I said “No, I’m in a Price Chopper right now.” And that’s when his tirade started. For some context, the Long Trail is a 273-mile trail running the length of the state of Vermont, and is the oldest long-distance hiking trail in the United States. When the Appalachian Trail was being routed, it was proposed to run along the Long Trail for about 100 miles while in Vermont. So while the Long Trail existed first, the official route of the Appalachian Trail runs along the Long Trail for these 100 miles, this section of trail is both the AT and the LT and all of the signage is for both trails. However, the gentleman in the Price Chopper said that many years ago some AT hikers upset the local boy scouts by saying that the Appalachian Trail was better. Although the irony of him picking a fight with me over this issue while in the toilet paper section of a grocery store was lost on him, I told him that I understand why that was upsetting to the boys scouts–but even though the LT was in place first, it is still part of the Appalachian Trail route as well and that the section of trail is part of both. He said “No it’s not. We Vermontians just want credit for our trail. You’re not through-hiking the Appalachian trail.” There was no reason to argue about facts or semantics with Price Chopper Guy, so I just grabbed two rolls of toilet paper so we could leave. He wished us well on our hike, and we wished him a good afternoon as we pushed our two carts to the front of the store. I am sure that his and the boy scouts’ experience with those AT hikers many years ago must have been unpleasant indeed for it to have left such an impression, which is a real shame. Once we could finally leave the store, we sorted through our food and Meadow contacted the hostel for a pickup. After a few minutes Meadow and I, plus Shaggy and Plank Fire, hopped into the large Suburban that came to a halt in front of us outside the grocery store. The hostel proprietor was Minshew, and her driving made me a little nervous–especially considering her lack of seat belt use. A few minutes later we were delivered to a lovely hostel, the Green Mountain House. We showered and did laundry, got caught up on cell signal activities, and relaxed in the afternoon. The hostel sold pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream for ONE DOLLAR so we each had one of course. We had pizza and Shaggy and Meadow played the piano, and Plank Fire watched a few Jackie Chan movies (love that guy!). Shaggy had a bit of a cold, and by the end of the evening his congestion drove him to bed earlier than us. We ended up staying up way too late before going to bed, enjoying the comforts of having electricity and actual chairs to sit in.

Day 121, Tuesday July 18: We woke up in the hostel around 6:30am, and scrambled to be ready to leave by 7:30am for our shuttle back to the AT where we all had left off the day before. We hit the trail around 8am (Shaggy was a little late in gathering all his stuff up!), and we started another day of hiking. The air temperature was already pretty high, and the air seemed thick with humidity and the smoke that lingered. We began the day with a climb up to Bromley Mountain at the top of a local ski resort. The views from the top were impressive even with the haze, and we took a few minutes to enjoy the ski lift seating.

We hiked on through the sunshine and hazy heat, both refusing to complain about how hot it was because it wasn’t raining! We actually kept our feet dry throughout the day, which marked the first trail day with dry feet in over a week. We passed by several alpine ponds and over ridges with mossy pine forests. The sixteen miles we covered weren’t necessarily easy but they seemed to pass by quickly.

We reached the shelter around 5:15pm, just as some dark clouds rolled in to cover the sky once more. We briefly discussed pushing on to the next shelter, another three miles, but due to the pain in Meadow’s knee and the fact that it looked like it would rain soon we decided to stay put. We set up our sleeping kits in the Big Branch Shelter and took our water bottles down to the large, bouldered stream below the shelter just as a light drizzle started. There was large tree growing out of a small, muddy island in the middle of the river, which sheltered us from most of the rain as we filtered water under its branches. By the time we finished collecting water the rain had already stopped, and we went back to the shelter to cook dinner. We had decided to try something new: a trail Thanksgiving dinner. The instructions were simple: boil water and mix in all ingredient. Who knew Thanksgiving dinner could be so easy?! The ingredients included a box of Stovetop Stuffing, a bag of instant mashed potatoes, a chicken pouch, and a packet of chicken gravy mix. The results were much better than expected, despite how the final product looked, and the total calorie count once divided between Meadow and I was about 650. Not bad for a trail dinner…Follow me for more holiday cooking hacks! We finished eating and cleaned up, and chatted with Shaggy until going to sleep around 8pm. It rained on and off overnight, but we stayed dry in the shelter.

Day 122, Wednesday July 19: We woke up in the shelter to a cloudy sky, but no imminent threat of rain. We packed up our sleeping kits, ate breakfast, and hit the trail around 7:30am. The clouds in the sky dissipated as we walked the first few miles do the day. When we came across Little Rock Pond after just over three miles of hiking, the sky was blue and we had a beautiful view of the still pond. As we gazed at the water a loon came in and landed on the pond, skidding to a halt on its watery airstrip before sinking below the surface to look for things to eat. The loon gave its melodic laughing call a few times, elevating the overall scene to perfection. The loon is tough to see on the first photo below, but look for the tony black and white spots on the water in the right-hand side of photo! I was tempted to go for another pond swim, but another hiker had seen leeches in the water…no, thank you.

The Trail circumnavigated the pond for approximately a third of its boundary before veering deeper into the forest. We spent several miles climbing up to the rocky ridgeline of White Rocks Mountain, ogling the line forest the whole way. No matter how much time the trail spends winding through pine forest, I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it! Tall, straight pole trunks emanated from the vibrant carpet of pine needles and moss, and the scents of pine and “clean dirt” wafted through the air. Near the top of the ridgeline we passed the Rock Garden, where some of the rocks had been piled into low cairns by hikers over time.

We spent the afternoon hiking up and down ridges and valleys in the Long Green Tunnel. We passed a small airfield which we could see far below us in an adjacent valley. Towards the very end of our hiking day we crossed the Mill River on a spectacular bridge through Clarendon Gorge. The suspension bridge was built several decades ago after a teenager fell from the previous bridge and was lost to the river below. The huge gorge was filled with rounded boulders, and the Mill River coursed through them in alternating rapids and pools. Several people lounged on the rocks or swam in the pools below us. Looking upriver from the stream, I could see the carcasses of entire trees that had been ripped up and swept away during the floods from July 10th and 11th. I shuddered to think of how high and close to the bridge the Mill River would have come during the flooding.

After crossing the river, we climbed another small ridge and descended into a much smaller stream valley. After over seventeen miles, around 5:30pm we finally came to our final destination for the day: the Clarendon shelter. Plank Fire was already in his hammock for the evening, so Meadow and I set up our sleeping kits in the shelter alone. While we cooked dinner, Shaggy rolled in but set up his tent since it wasn’t supposed to rain overnight. We chatted and ate our dinners until sleeping bag o’clock came around 8pm. Meadow had started feeling a bit congested, and into the evening it was clear that she was coming down with a cold. We both slept somewhat fitfully that night, until I heard something right outside the shelter in the darkness. It sounded like footsteps on twigs, or the sound of wood scraping. All of a sudden it sounded VERY close, and I said “Something is out there!” while fiddling with my headlamp. Meadow and I both turned on our headlamps at the same time and shone them around. I started illuminating the entrance to the shelter, and seeing nothing I swept the beam of light back into the shelter…and discovered that what we were hearing wasn’t out there, it was in the shelter with us! I saw a shaggy coat and was horrified at the possibility that a coyote or mangy bear cub had wandered into the shelter, but after a second of wide-eyed inspection I realized it was a porcupine. A full-grown porcupine had wandered into the shelter with us to chew on some of the woodwork–this was the sound we were hearing. It was standing on its rear two legs, reaching up to gnaw on a corner of the lower bunk on the other side of the shelter. Even so, he was probably only six or eight feet away from me. After the original terror wore off, Meadow and I began laughing and yelling at the porcupine to go away. He didn’t seem afraid of us at all, and slowly dropped back to all four legs before waddling off the end of the shelter floor and disappearing silently into the night. After he had gone, I couldn’t believe what we had just seen–I turned to Meadow and said “It was IN HERE?!? The porcupine was IN HERE!!” Meadow commented on how clumsy it looked when it plopped off the end of the shelter floor, saying “Looks like he has the same issues with walking as we do!” and we laughed ourselves to sleep once again. In the morning, I marveled at how quickly I was able to go back to sleep after the Porcupine Incident. I remembered the first time I ever slept in an open shelter, barely sleeping all night and screaming in fear when my shelter buddy moved around because I thought she was a bear (hey, Johanna!). Now I was six feet away from having my face chewed off by a porcupine and I thought it was funny…well, they say that the Trail does change a person!

Day 123, Thursday July 20: Happy four-month anniversary to Meadow and I! We woke up early with the intention of giving ourselves plenty of time throughout the day to climb and summit Killington Peak and descended the other side. However, when we woke up, Meadow’s cold symptoms had gotten noticeably worse. We resolved to take it slow and go no further or push no harder than was safe to do. We left camp before Plank Fire or Shaggy, and took it slow to begin. After a few short miles it became clear that we needed to get off-trail as soon as possible. A wave of chills hit, and Meadow shivered under both of our jackets and the emergency mylar blanket I had carried since Georgia, hoping never to need. I boiled some water that she was able to sip on to keep warm while I booked a hotel and reached out to some shuttle services. After the wave of chills passed and Meadow was physically able to proceed, we carefully hiked another mile to a road crossing where we stopped at the Stone’s Throw Farmstead store. I picked up a lemon electrolyte drink that I boiled into a broth for Meadow, and I tried some fresh-baked sourdough and goat cheese. The owner of the farmstead offered to drive us into town if we couldn’t find another ride, which was incredibly generous.

After about an hour I was able to get in touch with a shuttle who could come pick us up and take us into town. Her trail name was Flipaky, after her childhood imaginary friend. She chatted with us during the drive, introducing us to her miniature poodle Tekvah and letting us know that she offers rental rooms at her house if we needed somewhere else to stay. After being dropped off at our hotel, we waited a short while for the room to be ready before checking in. The rest of the day was passed in the hotel resting, and I wandered an enormous grocery store for supplies. It seemed that the worst of the summer cold or 24-hour flu had passed, which was a relief. I was so thankful that we weren’t more remote and that our extraction had gone relatively smoothly!

Day 124, Friday July 21: We decided to stay at the hotel for another day, just to make absolutely certain that Meadow’s health was strong and stable before returning to the trail. Meadow’s fever had broken and I had extremely mild cold symptoms, but we knew it would be wise to wait another day. We spent the day resting and eating at the hotel, which is exactly what zero days are for! We had breakfast and went back for second breakfast just before the continental bar closed up, each of us making a huge waffle with whipped cream, sprinkles, and chocolate chips (because we’re still Thru-Hikers!). We were able to look out our large window at the pouring rain, laughing at our “fortune” that we were inside on such a dismal and soggy day. The fire alarm in the hotel went off in the early afternoon, the ear-splitting noise chasing us out of the room and into the parking lot. We took the opportunity to walk to the nearby grocery store and stock up on more electrolytes and some food. We watched the 1994 classic “Speed” with Keanu Reeves and Sandy B–the movie holds up surprisingly well! In the evening we had some pizza delivered right to our door (thank you Nick!), and finished our our our day of rest with more calories.

Day 125, Saturday July 22: We woke up and assessed the situation. We agreed that everyone was healthy and recovered enough to hit the trail, so we ate breakfast and contacted Flipaky for transport back to the trail. She responded right away, and arrived promptly at 10am to pick us up. As we headed back to the trailhead Flipaky chatted to us some more and Tekvah came into the backseat to sit on our laps and lick our hands. We thanked Flipaky for her help, and I gave her an extra tip because she was so prompt especially when we needed her the most. She pulled to a stop on the side of the road, and pointed to the northbound trail marker. “You guys want to go that way.” She bid us goodbye and good luck before pulling back onto the road and disappearing, faithful Tekvah back in her lap already. We started hiking around 10:30am, and set a cautiously slow pace. Although it wasn’t supposed to rain, the sky was a solid grey and the moisture from the previous day’s rain still seemed to hang in the air. As we climbed into the foothills of Killington Peak, the thick moss hanging from the trees made it look like we were in the rainforest.

After a few short miles of hiking, we passed by a sign that informed us that we were only 500 miles from Mount Katahdin. “Only” 500 miles to go?!? After hiking 1,700 miles, having only five hundred left does make it seem like we are “almost there.”

We continued hiking for a total of eight miles for the day. Even though we hiked a relatively short day, we were both exhausted by the time we reached the shelter. We made it to the trail summit of Killington Peak, just below the ski resort (Killington Resort). An old shelter called Cooper Lodge sits on the trail near an old privy and a few tent platforms. Aside from the massive black fly problem, leaky roof, and the vandalism from all of the locals and ski patrons, the shelter was very nice! We had packed out a salad from the grocery store, and so we ate some fresh vegetables on the trail for the first time. I hung the bear rope over a fallen tree since there weren’t any living branches around that were long enough, and actually enjoyed doing the bear hang since it had been so long since doing it last!

While we ate our salads and eventually dinner, we chatted with two other Thru-Hikers who decided to stay there that evening: Copperhead and NomNom. Copperhead and NomNom had both started in early March, and both admitted to thinking about quitting the trail during some of the bad rainstorms we had experienced over the past several weeks. We talked about the good parts of the trail and shared some stories. The air temperature had dropped to near 50 degrees which means that it was cold enough to make us shiver but perfect sleeping weather! We pulled out the mylar blanket again during dinner to stave off the cold since the blanket was already opened up from its use earlier on the week. After dinner, we used a rickety ladder constructed of two-by-fours to climb onto the shelter roof from the rear of the shelter. The metal roof was rusted and peeling in some places, but I was able to get enough traction in my camp shoes so it seemed “safe” enough! We watched the red sun set behind rows of purple mountains and gold-rimmed clouds, our view framed by tall white fir trees. As the evening deepened, so did the songs of a few Swainson’s thrushes that flitted through the evergreens. The sunset was easily the best we have seen on the trail so far! After the sun retired behind the last ridgetop, we all watched for a few minutes longer and then climbed back to the ground and hit the shelter to sleep.

Day 126, Sunday July 23: Although the previous evening had been very cold, the morning chill was already gone when I awoke around 7am. The enclosed shelter stayed darker for longer in the morning, which made it easier to sleep in. We packed up our gear and made peanut butter wraps for breakfast. When we left the shelter sometime between 8 and 8:30am, the other hikers were already long gone. We decided to take a side trail up to the very summit of Killington Peak, which wound its way around the now-deserted Killington Resort ski lodge. It appeared there had been a wedding at the lodge the night before, the “altar” flowers still hanging on for dear life. We walked around the ski lifts and the gondola station, taking in the surrounding views and wondering why he area was so open and accessible when no resort folks were there. We climbed up the resort’s Trail J to the rocky summit of Mount Killington for some good views, excited that we could actually see the distant mountains unobscured by fog, excessive humidity, or smoke. The sky was beautifully clear and cheerfully, vibrantly blue, and the morning was the most beautiful we have seen on the trail in quite some time.

We descended back down Trail J and to the Cooper Lodge shelter, making a final stop at the privy before officially starting our trail miles. We had planned on going about 9 miles for the day before reaching our extraction point for a planned visit from Christine. The nine miles began with several miles of very slight descent, and although the terrain was not overly rocky or steep it seemed more arduous than usual due to our now-mild but persistent colds. We stopped for breaks often, both of us eating fewer snacks than we normally would have. We agreed that the day seemed to be going in slow motion, and we joked about being on the downside of Killington Peak for the rest of our lives. We still enjoyed the forest and the gift of a blue sky, eventually playing some music for the first time while hiking. I turned the volume down almost to nothing as we passed day hikers so we didn’t interrupt or accentuate their hiking experience with my phone’s speaker. We briefly passed through Gifford Woods state park campground, which had neat little car camping sites with gravel parking pads and bear boxes. We sat at an empty campsite for a short while to eat our last snack before pressing on. After leaving the campground we walked along a road for about a mile to reach a combination market/gas station/deli, from where Christine picked us up a short time later. Both Meadow and I received our new pairs of shoes–the ones we hope will take us all the way to the summit of Katahdin! Meadow’s old Topo shoes were falling apart and the tread needed a refresh. As for my Salomons, my tread had also worn down to nothing in some places and the sides were ripped open, but I actually needed to size up again! When I switched to trail runners from my boots two weeks into the AT, I was wearing a size 7. My second pair of trail runners was a size 7.5, and now I’m in an 8! Apparently it is quite common for Thru-Hikers’ feet to grow while on trail, and mine definitely have. I’m hoping that at least some of my old shoes back home still fit when I get there!

We ate Thai food for dinner, something Meadow and I had both been craving for weeks. We organized our stuff in the Airbnb and chatted into the evening before heading to bed way too late.

Although this week definitely didn’t go as planned, we are both grateful to be safe and (relatively) healthy! We are excited for another day of rest, and next week we also hope to finally hike out of Vermont and into New Hampshire. Onward!