Day 118: Old Friends

Puffy Time

If I’d lingered over breakfast, I would have pulled out a fleece or my puffy. But instead, I hurried through my morning chores and hit the trail by 6:30 a.m. I’d planned a relatively short 11.2-mile day to account for drivable road crossings and set myself up for reasonable mileage the next three days.

I needed a short day to catch up on some van-related chores. We’d emptied our water tank two days ago and had been using water jugs from Walmart until we could find a spigot. Also, we’d woken up to no electrical power the last three mornings and needed to either find a plug-in to fully charge the batteries or find a sunnier trail to hike.

Goals

So, my goals for the day were to get done early and get to work. I also planned to enjoy hiking in Vermont. I can hardly believe I’m here, with only two more states and less than 600 miles to go.

The Hike

Today’s hike started with a 1,000-foot climb, followed by several smaller ups and downs, and finished with a steep 700-foot descent into the VT9 notch. That’s right, “notch.” I’ve left “gaps” behind in the South. In New England, the narrow valleys are called “notches.”

After crossing New England’s AT, some thru-hikers start using “notch” as an expletive, as in “Notch it all! I stubbed my notching toe on another notching rock.” Most other hikers just stick with their tried-and-true f-bombs.

Gus came along again today, though I had to coax him out of bed. He can rest tomorrow, when I’ll leave him home for a planned 21-mile day because the notching roads are spaced too notching far apart.

Vermont Views

I’m discovering that views will be far and view between in the Green Mountain State, unless you count views looking up at continuous tree cover. Over today’s 11-mile span, FarOut lists two view locations. The first is a powerline cut, which hardly counts, but is still a welcome break from the long green tunnel. The second is described as follows:

“Harmon Hill is a mostly wooded and grassy peak above the town of Bennington. If you search around on some of the short side trails from the AT, you may find some nice views down to Bennington.”

LOL. I can help you with some of the FarOut-speak. “Mostly” means completely. “May” means won’t. “Nice views” means the same view of trees you’ve had all day. “If you search around” means the folks at FarOut are notching sadists.

The LGT Community

Don’t get me wrong. I still love the woods. I’m at peace in the Long Green Tunnel (LGT), despite its lack of diversity. I once wrote that “my soul lives in the woods… bring on the long green tunnel,” and I still feel that way. But I’ve noticed that my soul exalts when I see the sky above and long views out in front of me.

Since the trees leafed out and the spring flowers faded, it’s been a lot of the same view. Some of my friends who quit their thru-hikes blamed the trail’s monotony. After four months in the tunnel, I’m having to look harder for those moments of joy in the woods.

Today, mountain ponds and streams provided the visual relief. Sometimes, the morning mists, birds, or other critters are the highlights. Most afternoons, I lean hard on my audiobook for entertainment. And I’m counting the miles until I get some continuous views in the White Mountains.

The Third Meeting Rule

I saw Lost Child again this morning. Today, I got a smile and a sentence or two as we passed, proving my “third meeting” rule. The first time you see someone, you’re lucky to get a hello or a head nod. The second time, you get slight acknowledgement. The third time, you exchange names (yesterday). After that, you’re friends. Not hang-out-together friends, but at least we-know-each-other friends.

Homeless or Hipster?

You know that game where someone shows you a picture of a young person and you have to guess whether they’re homeless or a hipster? This morning I started playing “Trail or Canal?” as I hiked up and down yet another flowing section of trail. Vermont is a little stingy with the white blazes, upping the challenge.

At one point, I’d been hiking down an old forest road for a while and had just pulled out my camera to video an episode of “Trail or Canal?” Suddenly, it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen a white blaze for some time, and that the right answer might be neither. So, I pulled out FarOut, and sure enough, I was a half-mile off the trail, down a steep hill, and with no hope of bushwacking back along a short cut.

Then, my FarOut app hiccupped and the map and the AT icon disappeared. All I had were the waypoints, like water sources, mountain peaks, and trail junctions. I wouldn’t be able to see when I got back to the AT and would have to find a white blaze. Uh oh.

I knew I had to go back up the hill, so I started climbing, hoping the maps would recover sometime soon. Along the way up, Lost Child came down the same road. She’d made the same mistake, but at least her app was working. She turned around to follow me but fell behind immediately. When I found the unmarked turn (except for a white blaze and a pile of sticks I’d walked right over), I yelled down the trail to her that I’d found it. From the number of footprints along the road, we weren’t the only two to have missed the turn.

Katahdin

People have been posting their Katahdin summit pics on social media for the last few weeks as they finish their thru-hikes. Every day, as I see their photos, I feel the pull of the end more and more. Many of them also post the number of days they took to finish, which pokes at my competitive nature. Is this a race?

It’s definitely not a race, but I’m wired that way. Seeing those numbers makes me search for excuses for my performance, question my choices about zero days and daily mileage, second-guess my start date, and wonder if I’m going to make it. It’s an easy trap to fall into.

The first time I hiked Grand Canyon rim to rim with a group of extended friends, I got sucked into the same trap. I’d been assured we weren’t racing, but the guys kept talking about their previous completion times, who would be fastest, and how long they expected to take this time. A few of them started out running, so I did too, but I hit the wall at about 18 miles and had a miserable climb out.

Eventually, I had to step aside to let a mule train pass and sat down totally exhausted. I didn’t get up for 40 minutes. Then I saw one of the shuttle drivers hiking down the trail from the North Rim. He asked me why I was sitting when the trailhead was literally 150 feet away. I’d become so focused on my time that I lost track of where I was and why I was hiking.

I don’t want to do that on the AT.

A Trail Oasis

I hiked into the VT9/Woodford Hollow trailhead parking area about 11:30 after a steep, knee-punishing descent down a long series of ankle-breaking rock stairs. All the way down, I kept up my mantra of “one bad step,” so that I’d stay focused and upright.

Chippy and Broken Branch had set up trail magic in the parking lot, something they do most weekends, though for religious reasons they call it a trail oasis, rather than use the m-word. They hadn’t been too busy that morning (I’d seen only two hikers myself), so we sat and traded stories while I waited for Northstar to arrive.

When I signed my trail name in their log, Broken Branch told me he’d been reading my blog, which made me like them even more. Such nice people. I also noticed that Lucky McShorts, Pony, and Soup are a day ahead of me after my zero day in Pittsfield. But I didn’t see any other names of anyone I’d met since New Jersey. Where is everyone?

Greenwood Campground

We knew we needed an electrical hookup and water, so we took a chance and checked out a private campground up VT9. Usually, campgrounds are fully booked on summer weekends, and usually they don’t have cell or Wi-Fi coverage. But Greenwood had one space left, Wi-Fi, clean facilities, and I could see the cell phone tower on the mountain above the camp. Perfect.

A Surprise Visit

Just after we pulled in, Northstar got a text from an old friend from Phoenix who now lives in Connecticut. Tonja been reading the blog and guessed that we might be nearby. She and her husband Bruce were out riding with their motorcycle club (Indian Bikes) and were less than 40 miles away. So, they broke away and came for a visit. We spent the afternoon sitting around the picnic table catching up on 20 years, a perfect end to a very nice day.

The only hiccup came when the campground host came by to tell us that our friends could visit for one hour, but if they stayed longer there’d be a fee. Was he notching serious? But we decided old friends were worth three dollars. Each. We’d have gladly paid much more for such an infusion of joy.

Daily Stats

• Start: County Road (Mile 1,607.8)
• End: VT 9 (Mile 1,619.0)
• Weather: Puffy clouds, breezy, cool.
• Earworm: I Ain’t Got Nobody (Duke Ellington version) – good one for a change
• Meditation: I Th 5:11 (for T&B)
• Plant of the Day: Pearly Everlasting
• Goal: Done by noon
• Best Thing: Porcupine
• Worst Thing: Mud