Down The Trail

Day 3-Jay Peak__________The Long Trail__Day 5-Laraway Mountain

The Long Trail End-to-End Journal (Southbound)
September 29, 2007
Hazen’s Notch Camp to Spruce Ledge Camp
LT Miles - 14.5
Total LT Miles - 32.7
Extra Miles - 1

A dream interrupted - I open my eyes. A moment, and I remember where I am. Aged wooden boards are inches from my nose. The sounds that stirred me awake continue - rustles of sleeping bags, nylon, zippers, the light clink of an aluminum pot, a muffled footstep upon weary lumber, the hiss of air escaping an inflatable mattress, and the muffled roar of a camping stove in action. I roll over to see two pairs of white LED lights bobbing this way and that. A faint, blueish light in the air is my cue to rise as well, and join the party.

I pack somewhat hastily. This helps me keep warm against the early chill, but doesn’t ward away numbing fingers as I tie my shoelaces. I say my goodbyes to Upload, Stitches, and The Professor. “Have a good one,” I say - it’s what I always say.

It is another truly misty morning, especially in these early hours, and the overnight rain seems to have ceased. I drift through some enchanted forest near Hazen’s Notch - a gap in the mountains named after General Moses Hazen - a man who built a military road through here during the Revolutionary War, likely under direct order of General Washingtion.

The enchanted forest…

After crossing the road through the notch, I sit on log to enjoy a bagel. A lone middle-aged woman ambles by, going north. “Breakfast?” she muses. I observe her bulky, rain-covered external frame pack disappear down the trail.

The passing grey disperses for a single view before the eerie walk over Haystack Mountain - fogged in and dominated by stark red spruce. It is so quiet up there, and the resulting aura is magnificent.

Here I meet two northbound gentlemen.
“Isn’t it great up here?” I inquire, but they don’t agree - they’re wet, and their shoes are muddy.

“Southbound?” one asks me.
“Uh-huh”
“All the way?”
“Yup!”
“That a boy.”

Haystack Summit - another sweeping vista…

I descend Haystack, and meet a man sitting on a log. He appears to be in his thirties or forties, doesn’t give a trail name, and I instantly forget his real name. He’s going south for about a week to the Mt. Mansfield area, so we hike together for a short way. He did the AT back in ‘88, so we talk Trail.
“Does Wingfoot ever hike anymore?” he asks, “Is Baltimore Jack still out there every year? Southbounders are like a different breed - everything is backwards… The southern section of the LT is quite suburban compared to this, isn’t it?” etc.

The wet, rugged path through the area requires well placed footsteps, hand holds, and slides. When presented with a 10-20 yard downhill section, one has to pause and assess the best possible way to slide down. “If you didn’t have a trail name, I’d call you Crash Test Dummy,” he says (I’m hiking in front).

He eventually pauses for a break, and I continue south on the trail.

Tillotson Camp is currently being rebuilt by the GMC, so the structure is technically “closed.” A man and a woman are taking a break there - day hikers who, judging by their accents, are likely from Quebec. They ask me “How far does the trail go?” and seem surprised when I tell them it goes to Massachusetts, and then how from there it connects all the way to Georgia.

The sun comes out at last, shining on a nearby stream.

Don’t miss the next page! (This day continued)

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