We tried to be quiet getting up. I carried everything up to the shelter to pack and keep the noise level down so Ambassador could continue to sleep. I don’t know what went wrong today, but even with getting up at 6:30, it was almost 9 before we hit the trail. Ambassador was already up and packed as we were leaving.
The main advantage of camping near the top of a mountain is that the day starts off going downhill. There were several nice streams to cross with one that created a nice set of falls below the trail. On this stream, we had to cross on a fallen tree. I admit to feeling guilty for this one but I didn’t warn anyone that the tree was very loose and tended to roll when you stepped on it. I was the first to cross and waited on the other side for everyone to catch up. Of course, I had my camera ready. If it had been colder, I probably would have said something, but it wasn’t a bad weather day. If someone would have fallen in, they would have dried off quickly. Plus, every one of them laughed when Bunny pushed me in yesterday. I was owed a water shot by one of the group. Only Bear got his foot wet and then he squealed to the women.
We stopped at Minerva Hinchey Shelter for a snack. The shelters up here all have metal stripping on the edges of steps and platforms in order to discourage porcupines from gnawing on the wood. It’s also rarer to see a picnic table sitting outside because of the porcupine issue. The shelters tend to have built in tables inside. I was feeling a bit tired and could easily have taken a nap, but everyone else was ready to go after a few minutes.
Bear was reading a Green Mountain Club news magazine left in the shelter that told who the maintainers of the Long Trail were. It turns out that a few old guys try to maintain shorter sections by themselves south of Stratton Mountain. I was kidding when I made my comments about the trail maintainers being old and infirm but it turned out to be pretty close to the truth. I know trail maintenance is a lot of work and I do appreciate all the effort everyone puts in, but these guys need some help. The rest of the state appears to be in much better shape.
We ran into another group of locals at Airport Lookout. Sassy and Bear were talking to one family that has been coming up together every year since their daughter was born; she’s now in her 20s and they still make the climb a few times a year. We asked if the view has changed much over the years. They responded, “This is Vermont. Nothing ever really changes here.”
Bunny and I were talking to a couple of women and one of their sons. They were really interested in our story of just getting married last year, quitting our jobs, selling everything, and hiking around the world while we can. I like it when strangers encourage us and like our story. I also like it when Bunny tells it and doesn’t throw in negative comments like “I don’t know if our bodies will hold up.” It is not the norm and she is afraid to be different. I know I don’t fit in and I’m tired of apologizing for being different.
Next up (or rather, down) was Clarendon Gorge and a suspension bridge across the gorge. This was a very popular spot because it’s easy to get to from a parking lot. One woman joked about only one person at a time on the bridge and that really got Bunny going. The four of us were already near the center. I was trying to get pictures but she wanted off fast. I did what any good husband would do when his wife tells him to move—I ran. With pack, I’m almost 250# so when I run on a suspension bridge, Bunnies tend to get tossed around. Maybe she should choose her words more carefully. At any rate, the bridge wasn’t so high that death would be imminent if it broke; nothing worse than a few years of rehab at worse.
When you drop to the bottom of a gorge, there are two choices about what to do next. 1) Call it quits and go home, or 2) climb out. Option 1 is not a possibility after nearly 1700 miles. We accepted the challenge of the Whites preparation climb up to Clarendon Shelter for lunch. It was worth the effort because when we got to the shelter to eat, we met a retired lawyer, Barry. Barry is a member of the GMC and lives close by. He keeps an eye on things along the trail. Today, he was making sure the shelter was in good shape and passing out gourmet meals one of the member’s wife makes. We helped him pick up the trash all around the shelter after we finished eating.
We still had almost six miles to go and we were all dragging a bit. We got passed by three south-bounders so I started talking to them to give us all a rest. I’m usually quiet and reserved, but I’ll do what needs to be done to get everyone motivated. Slow Mo tried to thru-hike last year but got a stress fracture. That didn’t end her hike, but when she fell and broke it completely, that did. She didn’t even make it out of Maine. Today, they passed the 500 mile mark and were all feeling pretty good. I gave them the good news that the trail was very easy for the next 800 miles with the one small exception of southern Vermont which might still be pure hell.
Nearing our destination for today, we ran across the “500 miles to go to Katahdin” sign. Even with the Whites in front of us, 500 miles sounds so good. It’s definitely better than 2189.8 which was what we had left after our first day of hiking nearly 6 months ago. We just got a picture and moved on. It was getting close to dark with almost another mile to the shelter.
It was a very old shelter made from stone. It was the deepest one I have seen with plenty of room to set up a couple of tents inside between the platform and the sitting area. The women wanted nothing to do with it. We camped down by the river and ignored the shelter. It will be great as long as it doesn’t rain so much that the river comes out of its banks and washes us away. At least then I’ll be able to say “I told you so.”
EFG