Day 6: Where are the waffles?!

September 9: On their website, the EconoLodge said that there was a continental breakfast here. When I walked in, I could see the set up for their breakfast with various cereals and—could it be true? Yes—a waffle maker! Most of those hotel breakfasts don’t have waffle makers, but I gotta say, those that do get an extra star in my rating system.

 

I didn’t catch when breakfast was available, but I figured if I showed up anytime after 7:00, it would probably be available. So I showed up and… saw absolutely nobody. The whole vibe of the place felt wrong. Usually I’d see other guests eating breakfast or checking out. I’d see someone at the front desk helping people or making sure the breakfast items were well supplied, but I walked into the lobby and there was absolutely nobody around. Was I the only person checked into this hotel? Come to think of it, I never did—not once—hear any other guests walking down the halls making a lot of noise. There was no television on, usually turned to the morning news, making background noise. The whole hotel suddenly seemed quiet. Too quiet.

 

But I wasn’t going to let that stop me from my waffles! Nope. Except… there’s a large stand that lets you pour the waffle mix into a cup, which measures out just the right amount to pour into the waffle iron. And there was no waffle mix stuff in it. You can’t make waffles without all of the ingredients! Was this whole breakfast thing just a charade? Did it not start until 9:00 or some shockingly late hour?

 

I thought about maybe getting cereal instead, but when I looked around, I didn’t see any milk available. What the heck was going on here?

 

I stood there a bit, confused, wondering what to do next. And I suddenly realized—I did have a bit too much food. I could eat my own food for breakfast and lighten my load. It’s not as good as waffles and real milk, but my pack would weigh less. So that’s what I did—I went back to my room and ate my own food. My opinion of this hotel, however, was sinking fast.

 

I went to check out—or rather tried to. When I finally emerged from my room for the last time, I still couldn’t find anyone around the lobby. So I left my keycard on the front desk and just left. This place really disappointed me.

 

Out on the road, it didn’t seem like a good place to try to hitch a ride. Cars along this stretch were moving fast, already well out of town and picking up speed, and there wasn’t really much space for them to pull over to offer a ride even if they wanted to. However, there was a relatively sharp bend in the road perhaps a quarter mile into town that I figured would likely slow cars down, and it intersected with another road that might provide more places for people to pull over if they wanted to give me a ride.

 

So I started walking towards town, towards the bend in the road. As cars drove past, I stuck out my thumb in a half-hearted attempt to hitch a ride, but I didn’t expect much. They were probably confused to see me walking in the opposite direction I was trying to hitch a ride! But it only took a few minutes to reach the bend in the road at which point I dropped my pack in front of me, stood it up to make it more obvious, held a trekking pole in one hand, and got to the serious business of hitchhiking with my other hand. I wanted the backpack and trekking pole obvious figuring that people would be more likely to pick up a hiker than a drifter—not that there’s a big difference between the two, but still… =)

 

The fourth car that came along stopped in the lot of a business and waved me in. I wasn’t out there for even two minutes and I got a ride. YES! =)

 

My trail angel was Jim, originally from Austria who married an American and now lives somewhere locally. We didn’t talk for very long—the trail was only a few miles out so there wasn’t time to talk much—but he dropped me off at the trailhead and wished me good luck with my journey. I wished him a good day. =)

 

The day was absolutely beautiful and I hiked hard and I hiked fast. The views from the Bromley ski area were absolutely wonderful, and I took a break on the ski lift just because I could. =) It would have been a great place to camp if it wasn’t so darned early in the day!

 

I caught up with Sheryl at the Peru Peak Shelter, so we caught up for a few minutes before I continued on. I caught up with Cackles and Greylock at the Lost Pond Shelter where I planned to stay for the night.

 

Cackles picked some “chicken of the woods” mushrooms that, apparently, are best cooked over a campfire. (Don’t ask me—I know nothing about this sort of thing!) I was all for a campfire, though, and said I’d help find wood if she built the fire. The wood in the area was still largely wet from rain the day before and I couldn’t imagine getting a fire started would be easy. But that wasn’t my problem—collecting wood was my problem.

 

And around a shelter, the best wood had already largely been picked clean. Cackles seemed disappointed with the wood I first brought back (it wasn’t great, but it was the best I could find), but I didn’t care—beggars can’t be choosers! Eventually she got the fire going, though, and mushrooms were made for everyone.

 

Greylock went to bed early while Cackles and I stayed up later enjoying the campfire. Life was good…

 

 

Looking down a ski run on Bromley Mountain. You
can see the AT/LT coming up on the left.

 

I remember getting the Run Around when hiking the AT too! =)

 

The ski lifts weren’t operating, but the chairs looked like
a nice place to take a lunch break! =)

 

The chairs weren’t moving, but I tried to pretend like
they were zooming around when I took this photo. =)

 

A water pump at Mad Tom Notch.

 

 

Griffith Lake

 

Say it isn’t so! Actually, it’s a blue-blazed trail
that I think is used by mountain bikes that’s closed—not
OUR trail! =)

 

The trail climbed Baker Peak on this steep, exposed
slice of rock.

 

View from Baker Peak.

 

Cackles (left) and Greylock (right) at the Lost Pond Shelter.
We never did find a pond, so it really was lost!

 

Cackles enjoys the campfire.

Day 5: Don’t Become Roadkill!

September 8: It rained a lot during the night, but fortunately (once again!), it had stopped by morning. Tree snot still dripped down getting me wet, so much so that I pulled out my umbrella. I used it for about five minutes until I realized that it was more of a hassle than a help—there wasn’t even really much tree snot to worry about.

 

Tom and John left the shelter before me, and I hoped to catch up to them by the time I reached routes 11 and 30 that led into Manchester Center. They were section hiking the Appalachian Trail and had a car waiting for them there for their drive back to Connecticut and had offered me a ride into town—if I was around at the time.

 

So I hiked marginally faster than I normally might have, glad that my right knee wasn’t slowing me down anymore. There was still a slight soreness to it, but not enough to limit my mobility or speed.

 

I caught up with Tom and John leaving the Spruce Peak Shelter. Or, actually, they gave up looking for it. The sign on the trail pointed the direction, but it had no distance listed and they weren’t sure how far away the shelter was. When it started heading downhill, they decided to quit looking for it and turned around. My guidebook said it was only 350 feet off the trail, though, so I pushed ahead to look for it.

 

Previously, on my long distance walks, I’d happily pass by shelters that weren’t immediately on the trail. “Nothing I need there!” I’d say to myself, passing by the trail junction. Now that I’m collecting photos for walking4fun.com, though, I’m much less likely to pass them by. Every lookout, every vista, every shelter—if it’s within one-tenth or two-tenths of a mile, I’ve been visiting them. Even if the day is foggy, rainy, and otherwise miserable, I’ll go out to the viewpoint to take a picture of the fog and rain. It’s my job. =)

 

So I walked out to the shelter even though there was nothing there I really needed—just a photo. I’ll also sign the register and plaster a sticker in it to visit my websites. I’m here for the photos, but I’m more than happy to plug my websites in the shelter registers while I’m in the area as well. =)

 

This shelter wasn’t really a shelter at all, though—it was more like a lodge with all four walls and a roof. A wooden, sliding door marked the entrance, and I poked my head into the darkest shelter I ever did see. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Inside was a wood-burning stove which was still smoldering. It seemed more like a winter hut—the stove to keep people warm, and all four walls to trap in the heat. But the place was positively dark inside.

 

One hiker was still there who moved around with her headlamp on. I grabbed the register and took it outside to sign in.

 

I talked with her for a couple of minutes while I signed the register, and she told me about trying to complete the Continental Divide Trail (CDT) earlier this year but failed when she couldn’t adjust to the altitude. She’d done the Pacific Crest Trail, including a summit of Mount Whitney, but on that trail, she would drop back to lower elevations to spend the night. On the CDT, though, she said she’d be above 12,000 feet for days and weeks at a time and never acclimated. Bummer.

 

So now she was hiking other trails. She was headed southbound, though, so I didn’t pay as much attention as I normally would have. I wouldn’t be seeing her again after I left the shelter.

 

I commented on how dark the shelter was, and she said she has an urge to turn on a light switch whenever she walks into the place. I chuckled, easily imagining such a thing. They really should install solar powered lights or something. It was dark in that shelter! I thought the one I was in last night was bad, but this one wins that contest, hands down.

 

I put the register back inside then hiked back up to the trail trying to catch up with Tom and John again. I knew they weren’t far ahead and I caught up with them a couple of miles later shortly before reaching the road.

 

They gave me a lift into town, letting me off in the center. We actually went passed the EconoLodge where I had a reservation, but it was a couple of miles outside of town and I figured I’d rather get a ride into town and walk two miles back to the hotel than get a ride to the hotel then walk two miles into town and two miles back to the hotel again.

 

So they dropped me off in town and we waved goodbye. I’d miss them on the trail. As it turned out, we camped at the same places every night since I started the trail. They were my trail buddies, but they were gone now.

 

My first stop was to throw out my trash in a garbage can—no reason to carry that around town with me—then I headed into a supermarket to buy a little food. I didn’t need much since I had carried way too much leaving Williamstown. Basically, I needed about one day of food!

 

Then I walked over to McDonalds for lunch. I’d rather have eaten somewhere else, truth be told, but I knew McD’s had Internet access (most of them do now!) and I wanted to get online. It was about 11:00 in the morning and I didn’t know if the EconoLodge would let me check in so early. I could get some work done at the McDonalds, though, which I did for a couple of hours before I closed up my laptop and headed back out.

 

On my way out of town, I decided to stop at the post office. I knew it would be closed—it was Sunday, after all, but I had hoped the kept their lobby doors unlocked and that they had a self-help postage machine I could use. I really wanted to mail my laptop and other unnecessary items ahead to myself on the trail, and I figured if I could get a flat-rate priority mail box that was already paid for, I could ask the folks at the EconoLodge to mail it for me the next morning when I checked out. I had absolutely no intention of walking two miles into town to mail a package!

 

But the post office was locked up tight. Nope, that wasn’t even going to be an option.

 

My map of the town showed a backstreet that paralleled the main street through town, so I followed that out of town. I preferred walking on the less traveled backroads than the busy main streets, and I arrived at the EconoLodge to check in.

 

When I walked in, there was nobody at the counter to help me, but the doors did chime a bell and a fellow came out to help while talking on his cell phone. It sounded like a personal call and I thought it seemed a little tacky. I was even less impressed when he was searching through his pockets for a card of some sort and flipping over the ones already on the counter looking for one in specific. He seemed rather disorganized, like he didn’t know what he was doing and I was a bother to him.

 

Yeah, well. It was an EconoLodge. I wasn’t really expected 5-star service, but I was still a little disappointed in him. Eventually, though, I got my room and made myself comfortable for the night. I took a shower, then washed my dirty clothes in the shower. They didn’t need to be clean—just a bit cleaner than when I walked in. =)

 

And the rest of the afternoon and night I spent working on Atlas Quest, fixing bugs, catching up on emails, and writing this blog.

 

The Spruce Peak Shelter—the darkest, most claustrophobic
shelter I’d ever seen!

 

That’s the road into Manchester Center!

 

I don’t know what this plant is, but they looked like
marshmallows already on a stick. Just pluck and
roast over a campfire! =)

 

Always a good motto—don’t become roadkill!
This sign was posted just before crossing Vt. 11/30.

 

Roadkill, just waiting to happen…

 

 

Did some grocery shopping at Price Chopper. =)

 

Manchester’s oldest sign company? Given the size of this
town, it might also be the town’s only sign company! =)

Day 4: Stratton Inspirations

September 7: Today the trail headed over Stratton Mountain. This mountain doesn’t look special at first glance. It stands taller than most, is covered with trees, and generally acts like a mountain is supposed to act. But this mountain is also historic for it was on this summit that James P. Taylor first conceived of the Long Trail in 1910 and near this summit that Benton MacKaye extended the idea to build the Appalachian Trail a few years later.

 

The climb up the mountain was non-eventful. Some hikers seemed concerned about the steep climb to the top, but as far as climbs went, it wasn’t bad at all. It picked up a lot of elevation, but relatively slowly compared to other parts of the trail. At the top, there’s a small hut that a caretaker lives in and a fire lookout tower that hikers are allowed to climb.

 

When I arrived, the caretaker was in a deep discussion about government budgets and education or something with two other hikers, so I went on by. I dropped my pack a the base of the fire tower and climbed to the top. The wind, above tree level, was absolutely terrific and I had to cinch the chin strap of my hat tight to keep it from blowing away. Once I reached the observation deck, it wasn’t a bit deal—the observation deck was covered with windows so the wind couldn’t get in. The views were awesome in every direction. Clouds hung overhead so there weren’t any blue skies, but they stayed above the tallest mountains so none of them obscured the views.

 

I putted around a bit and finally descended where I ate a quick lunch at the base. The caretaker was done chatting with the other hikers and turned her interest to me, but I think she must have found me uninteresting because she didn’t chat long. Admittedly, I didn’t really say anything to encourage conversation either, though. Too busy pondering the meaning of life, the Long Trail, and the Appalachian Trail, I suppose. =)

 

Onward I continued, down to the shelter at Stratton Pond. I didn’t really have any reason to stop at the shelter itself, which was located a bit off from the main trail, but I did so anyhow to get photos in case I wanted them for walking4fun.com. =) The shelter was an impressive thing, though—with an upstairs loft and a covered picnic table. I stopped for lunch #2 and signed the register.

 

I kept hiking, passing by Stratton Pond—the largest body of water along the Long Trail—and a scenic one at that. =) For the night, I headed into the William Douglas Shelter which, I found out much too late, was a half-mile off the trail. I tend to avoid places that are half a mile off the trail, but it looked ready to rain and, on the map, the trail looked pretty level.

It was, indeed, an easy half-mile off the trail, and when I arrived at the shelter, nobody else was there. I suspected Tom and John would show up before too long since they had also been talking about stopping here for the night, so I claimed my spot and started making dinner. Almost immediately, a light sprinkle started, which pounded loudly on the aluminum roofing. I didn’t care, though, as long as it kept me dry.

 

Tom and John arrived soon after, and soon after that the rain started picking up and Cackles then poked her head in looking to escape the rain before it really started letting loose. Another day done!

 

The climb up to Stratton Mountain was rocky, but
not actually all that bad.

 

Flowers on the trail. No idea what these are, though. =)

 

The caretaker at the top of Stratton Mountain.

 

Stratton Mountain Fire Lookout Tower

 

View from the lookout tower. (I actually took this photo
one level down from the top since the windows of the
observation deck made good photos difficult.)

 

No mountain bikes allowed! Get it? No mountain bikes?
It took me awhile to realize that’s what the mountain was for. =)

 

Stratton Pond Shelter—with loft and covered picnic table! Classy!

 

The Magic 8 ball someone left there predicts that I
will “most likely” complete my Long Trail hike. Hmm….

 

Stratton Pond, the largest body of water along the Long Trail.

 

 

The William Douglas Shelter, which was one of the darkest,
most claustrophobic shelters I’d been in.

Day 3: A Walk in the Woods

September 6: It did get cold overnight—cold enough to form frost in front of the shelter. I stayed plenty warm in my sleeping bag, even going so far as to open it in the middle of the night to vent a bit—I was too warm! But in the morning, plenty of other hikers were complaining about the cold. I hoped this meant that the leaves would start changing colors with a little more gusto than they’d been showing so far. =)

 

I left the shelter at the same time Sheryl did, so we walked together a bit during the morning. She kept insisting she was slow and I should go on ahead, but the truth was that my right knee was still bothering me and I wasn’t moving as fast as people seemed to expect from me. However, my knee was feeling a bit better than it felt yesterday which was a good sign. It wasn’t getting worse! Throughout the day, the pain would increase, but it did that the day before as well. A good night’s sleep, though, and all was good again. So overall, the pain had decreased, but it was still affecting my walk and slowing me down.

 

We only hiked about 1/3 of a mile before reaching the Glastenbury Mountain fire tower, a tall structure that towered over the surrounding trees. Of course, I immediately wanted to climb to the top of it and dropped my pack to do so. Sheryl lingered back explaining she was scared of heights. I encouraged her to go anyhow, though, and eventually she did go up just enough to clear the trees and actually see a view. The day was absolutely beautiful and it seemed like we could see a hundred miles in every direction. It was also the first time I had a clear, unobstructed 360 degree view around the area I hiked. The few viewpoints along the trail never allowed for 360 degree views. They need to build more of these fire towers!

 

Originally, I planned to stop at the Story Spring Shelter, a rather short day at just under 9 miles. I arrived early in the afternoon, though, and still felt plenty strong to keep going. I decided to push on to make a shorter day tomorrow which was on a longer side originally.

 

So I stopped for a second lunch at the Story Spring Shelter, but then kept on going to Black Brook Bridge where I found Tom and John already camped. I wasn’t entirely surprised to find them here—they had been talking about maybe pushing on beyond Story Spring Shelter as well and it was a great place to camp.

 

After dinner, they headed off to sleep, and I pulled out my Kindle to read. It had been a nice, relatively non-eventful day. =)

 

View from the Glastenbury Mountain fire tower.
Fire towers are pretty much the only way to get a view
above all the trees!

 

Sheryl hiking the trail ahead of me. This kind of
terrain really slowed me down due to my hurting knee!

 

Lunch #1 was held at the Kid Gore Shelter. There are a
few hikers who stopped here for lunch.

 

 

 

This is a beaver pond, held up by the beaver dam that
you can see in this photo. I’m just amazed at the
size and depth of the dams these beavers have made.
They’re quite impressive!

 

The Story Spring Shelter was my original destination
for the night, but I only stopped here for lunch #2 before
continuing on.

 

Instead, I decided to camp by Black Brook Bridge. =)

 

Tom and John in camp.

Day 2: A Frosty Evening

September 5: It did rain overnight—which seemed to surprise everyone in the shelter despite my predictions the previous evening. The weather still looked cloudy and dreary and although the rain had stopped by sunrise, it still looked like it might continue again at any moment. The forecast I saw did call for a 20% chance of rain in the morning, but I blithely predicted that the rain was over and the skies would clear throughout the day.

Which is exactly what happened, and now the people from that shelter started taking my weather predictions a lot more seriously. =)

I continued north on the trail. The one good thing to note was that the exasperating mud from the previous day largely stopped after the first mile or two of the day. Oh, there was the occasional mud bowl in the trail throughout the entire day, but the long stretches of it soon gave way to much better (and drier) trail—despite the rain during the night.

A few places had great views over Bennington where the memorial for the Battle of Bennington during the American Revolution took place towered over everything else in the area. I didn’t realize how obvious it was from a distance! Maybe it was because it was raining when I hiked through here on my AT thru-hike.

My sore knee from the day before grew progressively worse throughout the day, though, and became more of a real pain. I wasn’t panicking about it yet, but my concern level grew along with the pain and it was definitely affecting my walk today. Bending the knee hurt, so I tried to keep it as straight as possible using my left leg to climb steps while dragging my right leg behind and starting down hills with my right leg straight then following with the bent left knee. On flat ground, I would try to swing my right leg around rocks and other obstacles on the trail. It definitely slowed my pace and I hoped that by favoring my right knee like I was that I wasn’t putting undue pressure on my left knee!

The descent down to state route 9 which leads into Bennington was brutally steep—a wretched little piece of trail that seemed to descend faster than it ran. It took me more than an hour to cover just a single mile of trail, but I eventually made it down. The climb back out from route 9 wasn’t nearly as steep, though, and my speed improved.

By the time I arrived at Goddard Shelter nearly 15 miles later, the shelter was already full. Sheryl was camped inside while Tom and John set up camp behind the shelter. I probably could have fit into the shelter if I really wanted it, but it wasn’t supposed to rain overnight and I decided I’d rather cowboy camp behind the shelter as well inviting myself to dinner with Tom and John. They’re the older gentlemen, brothers as it turned out, from Connecticut who are section hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Immediately after the sun set, the temperature plummeted rapidly. I didn’t know how cold it was going to get, but it was clearly going to be a lot colder tonight and I warned Tom and John that I heard on the news that the first frost to hit the region was expected to come on Friday. It was Thursday night so I suggested that it might get even colder tomorrow.

“Or tomorrow morning,” one of them suggested.

Oh, yeah. I forgot… for some reason, I was thinking Friday night. It makes a lot more sense that the frost would happen Friday morning! Which meant… Thursday night! Tonight! Yep, it was definitely going to be a nippy night.

After dinner, the two brothers headed off to sleep and I read my Kindle until I started falling asleep and went to sleep myself. All-in-all, it was a relatively uneventful but pleasant day. =)

This view was from Harmon Hill, and the memorial
for the Battle of Bennington is quite obvious from
a distance! =)

The descent to Route 9 was steep and slow, and
my bum knee wasn’t helping matters at all…

Vermont’s Route 9! A lot of hikers will hitch into Bennington from
here, but since I just left town the day before, I won’t!

Don’t brush against these plants. Really. Just don’t.
Trust me on this. =)

I guess I wasn’t the only person carrying too much food.
I found these cans sitting on a rock near the trailhead.
I might have had too much food, but at least none of it
was in cans!

William D. MacArthur Bridge

Split Rock

The morning might have started overcast and threatening,
but the day turned out quite nice!

See the moth pretending to be part of the leaf?
As if the leaf were turning fall colors already?

Goddard Shelter was quite full when I arrived,
so I decided to cowboy camp behind the shelter.
It would get frosty tonight, though!