Day 14 – Breadloaf Wilderness

October 9, 2007
Battell Shelter to Skyline Lodge
LT Miles – 14
Total LT Miles – 133.6
Extra Miles – 0

I’m awake at first light, but the air is so cold that I opt to stay in my sleeping bag for a while. I reach for my water bottles – expecting them to be frozen – but they’re not. The temperature must be in the mid-thirties. I begin the hike all bundled up, including my gloves which have remained dormant in my pack until today.


Battell Shelter

Most layers of clothes are shed by the time I reach Lincoln Gap. I cross the road and enter the Breadloaf Wilderness, meeting two female day hikers.

“Did you do the section between Lincoln Gap and Appalachian Gap?” one asks. “How was it?”
“Cloudy. Wet.”
“Really? It’s supposed to be beautiful! They call it the Monroe Skyline.”

They also enlighten me that today is John Lennon’s birthday. Happy birthday, John.

At the top of the climb from Lincoln Gap I come to Sunset Ledge, with a wide view to the west. I have the place to myself for only a few moments before a father and son show up. They ask me about other good hikes in the area, and I suggest they go back to the road, and north to Mount Abraham – pointing out the clearly visible peak. The morning is overcast without much sun to light up the foliage.


Mount Abraham on the right

The trail south of Sunset Ledge feels deserted. Breadloaf Wilderness has the character of a young, open forest laden with ferns, and dotted with some aged trees.

I often hear Canadian Geese up in the sky, and look above to spot their V-shaped migrations. This happens nearly every day. My southbound brothers – they’re traveling all the way to the tropics.

I also flush out grouse and turkeys in the brush quite regularly. Only a fluttering of wings in surprise, and they’re gone.


from Mount Grant

I meet a lone backpacker at Cooley Glen Shelter. He gives his name, a regular name… John, I think.

“I’m Duct Tape.”

“Duct Tape…” he replies, “You were on the AT in 2001?”

I look at him again, and a slow moment’s recognition pieces my memory together.

“Dharma Bum!”

“So what have you been up to for the past six years?”

He’s been living in Austin, TX, and now Brooklyn, NYC. We go over old times on the Appalachian Trail. I remember when he turned 18 at Trail Days. I was 20. Skipping to current events, we exchange experiences on the Long Trail in both directions. “They have a thermometer at Skyline Lodge,” he says, “It was 34 there this morning. Have you seen any moose? I saw one the other day…”

Soon it’s time to continue the day’s hiking. He’s going north – one of the last north bounders of the season.

The day grows long. The sky darkens. Wind whips on Mount Roosevelt.


I think that’s Killington, appearing far to the south. I’ll be there in four days.

I meet two section hikers at Emily Proctor Shelter – Quiet Walker and Darkblood. Here I pause only briefly – a light rain has commenced, and Skyline Lodge is a mere two miles to the south.


from Breadloaf Mountain

Skyline Lodge is packed with at least 20 noisy high school kids on an organized trip. They’re quick to make room for me (Before I even ask, to their credit, and along the wall to boot), but there’s no hiding the fact that this is a much different shelter experience than I’ve grown accustomed to.

I clear a corner of the porch area to cook my dinner, where I hope not to be stepped on, when one of the leaders offers me a huge pot of pesto pasta. Score. They’re nice people, just oblivious to group size regulations, and it’s not like I can expect 20 teens to hush up immediately at dark and go to sleep on account of a lone crazy hiker. There’s flirting and gossip to be attended to.

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