Vermont – Trail Days 2002 |

Connecticut / Massachusetts____The Appalachian Trail____Vermont

Monday, September 03, 2001
Williamstown, MA-Congdon Shelter
Today’s Miles: 14.1
Trip Miles: 1579.4

And so on the third of September in the year 2001, this hiker passed into the state of Vermont, another state in which he had never previously set foot. He marvelled at the beauty of the Green Mountain National Forest, identified his first beaver pond and dam, turned a cold shoulder to the brisk wind from the north, scoffed at the early hour of the setting sun, and walked on.

The word Vermont is actually derived from the French for “green mountain.” I did notice a change of scenery immediately upon entering the state, sort of like how the design of the road changes immediately when you cross a state line on the highway. Or maybe it was just the feeling of being here, finally in the northern reaches of the Appalachian Trail, sensing the approach of a new season out here.

After meeting a group of at least ten or fifteen freshman from Williamstown College at the Seth Warner Shelter, I decided to push on seven more miles to the next shelter. I arrived at last in the waning daylight after paralleling a creek for what felt like forever, and I am all alone in this place for the night. It is quiet and peaceful.

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Tuesday, September 04, 2001
Congdon Shelter
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1579.4

My seventh grade “Earth Science” teacher, Mr. Stefanyak, is possibly one of the first people that told me, and my class, about the existence of the Appalachian Trail. I’m not one hundred percent sure about it, but I have the feeling that he was – among talk of different kinds of rocks and weather patterns and such nonsense. Being thirteen at the time, I always had far more important matters on my mind.

Nothing delighted some of us more than getting on the poor old guy’s nerves. After all, there were pretty girls to impress. I remember once he got in my face and was setting me straight for some idiotic thing thing I’d done, and the way his face contorted into all kinds of funny shapes because he was pissed off struck me as nothing more than extremely amusing. I could barely keep a straight face, and that of course only made him more angry. Our class could be pretty terrible, and we were supposed to be the “honors” group.

He had been teaching at that school since at least the early seventies, and by the time my class went through, he was just doing his time until he could collect retirement – worn out by the years and life. He must have been using the same lesson plans for fifteen years -giving all his homework assignments directly out of the textbook, giving the textbook publisher’s issued tests, and showing slide projection films that were copyrighted in the 1970′s. The nature of limestone and granite didn’t change much over the years, I suppose. Fairly often, though, he’d teach the lesson for about ten minutes, and then his eyes would light up and he’d go off telling some interesting story about something totally off topic like his vacations camping and hunting in Canada for the rest of the class period. I don’t think we would ever act up that much when he’d tell those stories, because they were usually interesting, but probably moreso because were weren’t going to be tested on any of it. Anyway, he was always talking about his good times “up in Canada” with his buddies. And somewhere in there, I think he mentioned the Appalachian Trail, too.

Sometime maybe a little more than a year ago, I was paging throught the local newspaper, and something caught my eye. It was an obituary listing for Mr. Stefanyak. He was in Canada.

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Wednesday, September 05, 2001
Congdon Shelter-Bennington, VT
Today’s Miles: 4.3
Trip Miles: 1583.7

It was a short hike today to the the road crossing to town. I was greeted just before the road by about fifty students from a local elementary school struggling on up the mountain for some sort of day hike/nature trip. The adults were struggling the most, and there were too women I passed who were way behind, in what seemed to be utter torture. They had a sense of humor about it, saying “Back here away from the kids we can CURSE while going up this thing!” I got a kick out of that.

It took a long time to get a ride, and that aggravated me a bit because I only really needed to go to town for an item or two of food resupply, and of course to hit up the golden MCDONALDS in this town(I can’t believe I crave McDonalds). A friendly guy eventually helped me out with a lift, and this town is pretty busy and hip compared to most along the trail, so what the hell, I’m staying the night. Oh and what do you know, Ronin caught me and he’s here too.

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Thursday, September 06, 2001
Bennington, VT-Goddard Shelter
Today’s Miles: 10.1
Trip Miles: 1593.8

Wow. What an afternoon. What an evening. I love the trail.

The day was already half spent by the time I got a hitch back up to the trail from a nice couple, but somehow it didn’t matter to me. I felt so good. The miles flew by like nothing as I glided effortlessly along the footpath, thinking about all kinds of things – holidays, trail magic I’ll do next summer, etc, if you really want to know. The sky was clear as could be.

I saw one hiker all afternoon, and only briefly as I passed by in my euphoric rythm. I think I took off the pack twice in ten miles – once to visit the silent, serenely perfect Melville Nauheim Shelter, and once to consult the map, gauge my position, and look out upon the hightest peak on the horizon – Glastenbury Mountain – my destination for the night.

And what a destination it was. I made it to the Goddard shelter at dusk and was welcomed by a surprisingly near full house. Dropping my pack, I hastily grabbed a few things and hoofed the short distance to the top of the mountain in order to take in the sunset. This summit is nothing but evergreens, and it smelled like Christmas on the way up in the fading light.

At the peak was an old, rickety firetower that was more weatherbeaten and had more character than I can comprehend. It creaked and groaned imtermittedly in the wind as climbed the wooden steps one at a time – one or two broken or missing. At the top was a view that blew my mind, and a scene that that struck me dumb of any insignificant, meek little thought or detail in our feeble perception.

In all directions were rolling, beautiful mountains and trees, as far as the eye could see, and not a sign of civilization anywhere. The wind blew constant and strong, slightly swaying the tower beneath my feet, but perfectly never so much as to be uncomfortable, but more invigorating. I learned there what the poets mean when they say the wind whispers to you, because at that moment it was undoubtedly telling great tales in a language far too great for me to comprehend, but enough for me to understand – stories of all the landscape I beheld, of great and humble deeds done far and wide, of all of time, and of me. And I stood in awe and listened as the sun set over this magnificent land. I stood and wished that somebody could be there, wished that everybody I’ve ever given so much as the time of day in my twenty years could be there and experience the same – but I was alone. There were at least six hikers no more than a five minute walk away down at the shelter, and I had this place all to myself. An odd blessing of fortune it was.

The first stars were shining in the east as I turned away, and made my way back down through those woods that smelled of Christmas, back to where I’m bedding down for the night. Here other hikers talk of insignificant comings and goings, and I succumb and join in, paging through the register and nibbling on a dinner. Out on the far horizon from here, I can see back to Mount Greylock, back to the white beacon that shines from atop the monument on its summit.

Glastenbury sunset

Friday, September 07, 2001
Goddard Shelter-Stratton Mountain
Today’s Miles: 16.3
Trip Miles: 1610.1

I was excited to get back up to the Glastenbury Mountain firetower first thing after I got moving this morning, to get a look at the view in full daylight. There was no wind and the sky was much hazier than last night, but it was a great place to stop for awhile nonetheless.

The rest of the day’s hike was rather uneventful. A few southbounders came through when I was having lunch at Story Spring Shelter, and I met a northbounder going south now named Bonepile. I had been behind him for quite a while and reading his register entries, but he apparently flip flopped during the heat wave in Jersey, and has hiked this far south already. So this is where I could have been if I had chosen to flip…

I found myself stuck at that shelter for about a solid two hours, until I decided to push on seven more miles for the summit of Stratton Mountain as the day was growing short. There was supposed to be a “warming hut” a mile or so off the trail on the summit, open for hikers to use overnight. I was night hiking by the time I reached the top of what was a significant climb, and then it was another mile off the trail to this small building. Man, is it dark, windy, and cold! The Stratton Mountain firetower was back on the trail but I didn’t even bother to go up because I was so cold and set on getting to this hut. I’m in here for the night with two section hikers who were quite surprised to see me arrive after dark, and now we’re very relaxed and enjoying it again within four walls at this beautiful place.

Glastenbury in the morning

Saturday, September 08, 2001
Stratton Mountain-Spruce Peak Shelter
Today’s Miles: 11
Trip Miles: 1621.1

What do you know, there’s a gondola that runs from this place down to apparently a “resort” type area at the base of the mountain with all you can eat restaurants and all kinds of goodies, that only runs on weekends.

Today is a Saturday.

No, I resisted and didn’t go down, because it was only fourteen miles to the road to Manchester Center, where I need to go shop and resupply with food anyway. That doesn’t by any means indicate that I got up for an early start though, as I didn’t get packed and moving until well around noon.

The hike brought me down the mountain to Stratton Pond and the fairly new shelter there, which I stopped to take a look at, and read the register. There were two lovebirds sitting at the pond itself, so I just kept on going, putting in miles as the afternoon faded away over some relatively flat terrain. Prospect Rock was a cool place, looking down and out into a deep and abrupt gully – really just a valley wedged tightly between the ridge I was on and the opposing one. It seemed that a great view was to be had out to the right toward Manchester Center, but the thick haze held it at bay.

I rolled into Spruce Peak Shelter an hour before dark, just three miles shy of the road crossing to Manchester. After some brief debate, I chose to stay there for the night and try the hitch to town tomorrow, rather than trying to manage the hitch in the dark. There is one other section hiker here, and this is a very cozy shelter.

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Sunday, September 09, 2001
Spruce Peak Shelter-Manchester Center, VT
Today’s Miles: 2.7
Trip Miles: 1623.8

It was a short hike to the road and hitch into town. I spent the day taking care of errands, seam sealing my tent, and other fun stuff.

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Monday, September 10, 2001
Manchester Center, VT
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1623.8

I spent the whole day bumming around town. I don’t know why, but I just did. When it came time to hitch back on the trail, the weather took a turn for the worse, so here I am spending the night in a motel on the outskirts of town. I’m packed and ready to go for an early start tomorrow.

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Tuesday, September 11, 2001
Manchester Center, VT
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1623.8

As for me, I saw most of it live on TV. It’s funny that I even turned on the television at all because of the fear of getting sucked in – I was all packed and heading out the door, but something made me turn it on anyway.

But what the hell do I matter. What does this trail matter. The Congress just sang God Bless America like it’s the beginning of the end of the world. What the hell’s going on.

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Wednesday, September 12, 2001
Manchester Center, VT
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1623.8

I roamed aimlessly around town today, looked at all the flags displayed, talked with countless random strangers, called home, bought a small radio at an electronics store, found myself at a prayer service in the evening, and am now back in front of the tv in a motel.

half-mast in Manchester Center

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Thursday, September 13, 2001
Manchester Center, VT
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1623.8

I’m still in front of the tv.

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Friday, September 14, 2001
Manchester Center, VT-Bromley Mountain
Today’s Miles: 2.8
Trip Miles: 1626.6

I painstakingly pulled myself away from the “real world” today, the one I’ve been going to great lengths to avoid for the past five and a half months, and continued north on the trail. I had radio headphones on my ears every step of the way, something I have not practiced for the length of the way. I suppose this is a special exception. Music can sure be good while motoring along – especially the great taste in the songs they’ve been broadcasting in light of the past week, but I’d have preferred not to have had to resort to carrying one.

I got as far as the summit of Bromley Mountain before calling it a day. There is one other person here, a southbound LT hiker. I lit a candle that I hauled up from the prayer service at seven pm like I heard the rest of the nation is doing tonight(Friday).

I’m looking at the daily mileages I have to average in order to continue this hike, and they’re incredibly daunting, especially given the fact that I am to head up into higher elevations and more difficult terrain in the Whites, not to mention Maine – and it’s only getting colder.

I can’t really swing a flip flop hike anymore, because I’d still be going through the Whites late in the season. I could always skip ahead, maybe if only to Hanover or Glencliff, then come back and finish in Vermont, but I think I’d rather not finish at all than to not finish at Katahdin. Or I could push on and just get as far as I get and that’s that, which is the most likely option. I’ve been purist and proceeded exclusively northbound the length of the way, and I’d hate to break that up.

Still, these concerns are really the last thing on my mind.

Bromley sunset

Saturday, September 15, 2001
Bromley Mountain-VT11/30
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1626.6

Spent most of the day on the summit of Bromley Mountain. I don’t know what I’m doing.

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Sunday, September 16, 2001
VT11/30-Manchester Center, VT
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1626.6

I’m going home.

I sat on a log at a campsite along the trail all day long mulling this over. I just no longer have the will to go on, detatched from the world and the events currently unfolding – especially when going on to an unforseen end that will most likely not be the “end” at Katahdin anyway. It’s a very difficult thing to describe my feelings leading to this decision, so I’ll spare it in danger of reading like a list of excuses.

But when I turned and said so long, turning south down the trail, it felt good, like a great weight was lifted from my shoulders. My hike of 2001 is finished and going home is suddenly a reality, not the long distant prospect it has been for so long. And on my way home now by bus I have the oppurtunity to stop on the way in New York City and pay my respects. It is very exciting actually, to be faced with life after the trail, just as it was exciting to be ascending Springer Mountain.

I sang aloud with the radio as I walked along the shoulder of a winding mountain highway in Vermont on a beautiful evening. Now I’m in my last motel room, and I just saw a girl I graduated high school with on MTV, giving a quote while helping out, volunteering at the WTC site. I’ll be there tomorrow.

Monday, October 01, 2001

As we were stuck in traffic in front of the Lincoln Tunnel, and the first view of the NYC skyline could be seen clearly – you could see smoke still rising from where the World Trade Center used to be, almost a full week later, and helicopters and perhaps even a fighter plane high above. The driver announced “If this is your first time to New York, you can see see smoke coming up from the World Trade Center site, and the Empire State Building can be seen to the left…” A few people took photographs. We discovered why traffic was backed up to get into the tunnel when the bus was searched at the entrance – every vehicle was stopped and checked out.

…I boarded the last bus home after some time in the city, and it wasn’t long before the radio began to pick up my hometown radio stations again, and I found my room flooded with returned maildrops, developed photographs, and all these journey’s end type things…

I’ll definitely be back, at least to do the section from Vermont to Katahdin, maybe as soon as this summer. I still have my stone from Springer Mountain. Who knows, maybe I’ll do the whole thing again someday. But as for now, this is the end of my hike, and this journal. Thank you for reading, and I’ll leave with a quote, in spirit of how I began-

“All of my possessions, for a moment of time…”

-last words of Queen Elizabeth