Day 119: It Could Have Been Worse

Forecast: Early Morning Light Rain Then Afternoon Sunshine. Or not.

Rain on the roof woke me at 4:45 a.m. “That’s nice,” I thought, “the forecasted hour of rain is coming earlier than expected. It should be done by the time I have to get up and hike.” Then I remembered that I’d left my shoes outside to dry (a dumb idea in general, I know) and scrambled out of bed to rescue them.

I went back to bed but didn’t sleep. Nor did I get up and make breakfast. I just didn’t feel like going anywhere. Certainly not on a 21-mile hike through the LGT in the rain. Eventually, I gave in to reality and got dressed, buttoned up the van, and drove back down VT9 to the trailhead.

Goals

Today’s hike called for 20.6 miles of trail and nearly 5,000-feet of total climbing, most of which occurred in the first ten miles during the ascent of Glastenbury Mountain. FarOut promised “spectacular views” from Glastenbury’s “recently renovated lookout tower.” My goals for the day were to survive, click off some mileage, and catch the views from Glastenbury’s summit.

Gus Stays Home. Ish.

Gus really thought he’d be hiking today and tried to squirm out of the van when I left, but I thought 21 miles and 5,000 feet of climbing might be too much for him. Poor guy.

He watched me from his usual perch in the passenger seat as I crossed the parking area and disappeared into the woods. From there, I crossed the pedestrian bridge over City Creek, followed the creek downstream a hundred yards, and began the steep climb out of the notch.

I hadn’t gone more than a quarter mile when I thought I heard yelling below me. I turned and saw a small brown deer dashing along the creek trail. A deer with a curly tail. And a collar. And the yelling sounded a lot like Northstar. A second later, the little deer came back up the creek and started running up the trail toward me. It was pretty disappointed to be led back to the van. Nearly as disappointed as I was having to re-climb that part of the hill.

Might as Well Be Raining, So it Was

Despite the forecast, I got spit on most of the day. Between the sweat from climbing, the humidity, the wet vegetation hanging over the trail, and the drizzle, I walked wet all day. The muddy trail was just bonus wetness.

Everyone Else Stayed Home

The woods were dark and ghostly quiet. I heard no birds, saw no critters, felt no breeze, and had the spiderwebs crossing the trail all to myself. I passed Lost Child sitting alone by a small stream around 7:30 a.m. but didn’t see another soul until mid-afternoon. I didn’t even see any tents. I had my own private forest.

Even the views stayed home. I passed through a wide utility corridor, but low clouds dampened the sightlines. At least I had Glastenbury Mountain’s observation tower to look forward to, and by then the clouds surely would have burned off.

FarOut-Speak

When I reached the Glastenbury summit, I became a little more fluent in FarOut-speak. By “recently renovated,” they mean recently condemned by the FAA, with the first flight of stairs removed to prevent fools like me from climbing it anyways. And by “spectacular,” they meant non-existent, unless you count the same spectacular view I’d been seeing in the thick, green woods all morning.

Well, At Least I Have…

Still, it was a nice steady climb and my legs felt strong. At least I had my book to keep me company. Except that I hadn’t realized I only had 45 minutes of it left and hadn’t downloaded the next one.

Okay, so no book, but at least it’s all downhill from to Glastenbury’s 3,749-foot summit to our meetup point on Kelly Stand Road (2,223 ft), right? But in typical AT fashion, the 2,800-foot descent included 1,800 feet of climbing.

So, I walked alone. It must have rained harder north of Glastenbury Mountain, because the trail got muddier, the rocks got slicker, and the overhanging vegetation got drippier. But I gradually approached the end. When I got within six miles of our meetup spot, I decided to text Northstar to confirm the time, but found that I still had no cell coverage.

At least I’d brought my Garmin GPS. Except that battery was completely dead. My Garmin InReach Mini2 battery will last for months if I don’t send any texts or use it to track my position, neither of which I’d done since the last time I’d charged it.

Then I remembered I’d turned it on when we’d boondocked at County Road two nights ago. I’d brought it inside for the night at bedtime and had not turned it off. Apparently, it spent the night searching for satellites under the van roof, which ran down its charge. Lesson learned. For next time.

For this time, it could be the beginning of a long afternoon, since I planned to meet Northstar along another dirt road that probably had no cell service.

At Last…Company

Around 2:00 p.m., a southbounder passed by and told me that five or six northbounders were ahead of me, two of which were within a mile. FarOut told me I had only 4.8 miles to go, so I stepped it up a notch to try and catch them.

I reeled them in about an hour later, but they were a couple of Long Trail hikers I’d never met. We chatted briefly and I kept going, but I never caught anyone else.

You Know What This Day Needs?

Just after I passed the Story Spring Shelter, with a little over a mile to go, I climbed up a short, rocky section of trail. I stepped on a wet, slanted rock, my feet slid out from under me, and I landed face first in a pile of rocks. Fortunately, I caught myself in a pushup position that took most of the force, though my wrists were bloodied. I stood up, shook myself off and finished the climb.

Two minutes later, on the descent, my lead food slipped on a muddy slope, and I went down again, this time in a baseball slide off the trail into a puddle. I was recording when it happened and got a nice video of my face, the sky spinning in circles, some notching dialogue, and then a view looking up at some dripping underbrush.

I hadn’t fallen like that since southern Virginia, when coincidentally, it was raining, the trail was slick, rocky, and overgrown, and I was exhausted from a 20-mile day. I thought I’d learned that lesson.

A Strong Finish

I hobbled up to Kelly Strand Road to find four emergency services and mountain rescue vehicles parked along the road. This was bad. Not just for whomever they’d come to rescue, but for me.

Anytime Northstar hears a siren in our neighborhood, she’s likely to call to make sure it’s not coming for me, all because of the one time that it was. So, I knew that when she drove up today, she’d see the trucks and assume the worst.

If I’d known which direction she’d be coming from I’d have walked that way to intercept her, but I didn’t, so I sat down to wait. Sure enough, she drove up, stopped the van, and stared in dismay. When she finally saw me, she just put her head down on the steering wheel.

As we drove away in search of cell service, she confessed that she really wanted to be mad at me for the shock but couldn’t figure out how to make it my fault. I could, so I quickly changed the subject and offered to take her out to dinner.

A Rare Find

We found a little bar near Mount Snow that had four bars of service, smash burgers, good service, and some locally brewed beers. Northstar ordered me a double smash burger and fries to make up for me skipping lunch, and I picked out the Switchback Ale.

I figured I needed to see at least one switchback before leaving Vermont.

Daily Stats

• Start: VT 9 (Mile 1,619.0)
• End: Kelly-Stratton Road (Mile 1,639.6)
• Weather: Overcast, cool, humid, isolated drizzle.
• Earworm: You Belong to Me (Taylor Swift) – Again. I blame you, Beth from Chattanooga.
• Meditation: Lk 18:1-6
• Plant of the Day: Mud
• Goal: Knock out miles
• Best Thing: Getting done.
• Worst Thing: Mud, no views, humidity.