Day 122: Conversation and Heresy

Refreshed from a nice zero in Manchester and relaxed from a late start to let Northstar sleep in, Gus and I set out from VT 30 for a nice 17.7-mile hike over Bromley and Styles Peaks, both of which promised excellent views as a reward for the climbs.

Goals

My goals for today were to finally catch some mountaintop views and log more miles toward New Hampshire. If I hold to my itinerary, I’ll be in New Hampshire for our next zero after just six more days of hiking. Beyond that, after the next zero, my oldest son, his wife, and most importantly, our magical granddaughter arrive for a visit. We’re counting the days.

I’d done some quick math as I hiked last week and thought that I’d pass the ¾ mark today, but when I pulled out my calculator app this morning, I realized that I’d passed it on the day before our zero. I didn’t see the marker, if there was one. Still, I’m ¾ done with the AT! Woot, woot!

What’s That I Don’t Smell?

Clean clothes feel so good on my skin. And for at least an hour, I didn’t stink. Not wearing salt-encrusted pants and shirt is a joy, but clean socks are the best. It felt like walking on air. Through mud. Vermont’s mud and rocks have been tough on my shoes and feet.

I’ve got two pairs of shoes left, but both are white. Who makes white trail shoes? And who buys them? Well, when you wear size 15 shoes, you take what you can find. And you order them in advance because no retail stores stock 15’s. For a while last year, Altra was totally out of my size, except in white. I’m currently wearing my last pair of black shoes. I’d hoped to bring out the whities when I hit the White Mountains in New Hampshire, but they may appear in Hanover.

Oh For Vermont

Bromley Summit was totally socked in. The ski lift wasn’t running, visibility was less than 200 feet, and the air was wet enough that it might as well have been raining. A few hikers wandered in and out of the Ski Patrol hut, saying that it was dry and warm, but Gus was too muddy for me to check it out. Styles Peak was no better, offering no view from the lone rock outcrop that peeked through the trees.

I’m going to be 0 for Vermont on summit views. All that climbing with nothing but muddy shoes and sore knees to show for it. Climbing a mountain with no views is the outdoor equivalent of using the stairmaster at the gym. It’s just exercise with bad weather.

I talked with a young Long Trail hiker named Matt on the climb up Bromley. He’d been on Stratton Mountain about four hours after me and said the views were spectacular. Ok, Vermont, I’m starting to take this personally. I may be scraping the “I LOVERMONT” sticker off the van.

Did Someone Push the Button?

Gus and I sat on the Styles Peak rock outcrop, eating my lunch and taking in the view of cloudy nothingness. Three of the northbounders who had been on Bromley with us passed by as we packed up, and the last one stopped to say hello. But just as he spoke, a low-flying jet passed over, drowning out any chance of conversation.

And then other jet flew over, this time sounding like it was only hundreds of feet above us. In seconds, it sounded like an entire squadron was doing laps around the peak or had scrambled to prevent a Canadian invasion. I haven’t been following the news. Are we on the brink of war? Nevermind, I don’t want to know.

Vermont Needs to Step Up Its Game

I’m not one to complain , but Vermont really needs to step it up or it risks dropping down to Pennsylvania status. So far, it’s been muddy, rocky, rooty, rainy, and humid. And a lot of the same thing day after day. The mud that I’d been told disappeared at Manchester is back. Today, the gnats and mosquitos came out in force to add to the misery.

On the bright side, the mountain ponds and streams have been lovely, it has never gotten above 80F, and every so often I get a brief glimpse of what’s possible. I’d like an extra helping of what’s possible, please.

A Conversation

I packed up during the fighter plane attack and headed down the trail. A few minutes later I caught the hiker who’d tried to talk to me at the summit. This being the first day/second encounter, and well short of the official third day/third encounter threshold, I didn’t expect more than a nod or a hello. But as I passed, after a hello I asked, “How are you feeling about your hike?” A breach of protocol, I know, but I did it.

The guy looked me straight in the eye, another protocol breach, and said, “You know, I probably shouldn’t answer that today.” Screw protocol. I asked why. We hiked and talked for nearly three hours. Not counting my friends Dan and Brian (Buff) who came out to hike a few days with me, I hadn’t had an extended trail conversation since I met Wizz on the Roller Coaster in northern Virginia in June.

What a treat. I’d barely even seen a northbounder in the past week, let alone say anything more than “Good morning.”

Engineer Speak

Both he and I are frustrated with the trail conditions lately (mud, rain, no views) and have grown a little tired of the LGT. Since were both civil engineers, we tend to look at the trail as infrastructure and wonder why it’s been built with poor drainage, without switchbacks, and along strange alignments. That’s how civil engineers think, and I enjoyed hearing someone else speak my language.

When I asked if he had a trail name, he chuckled a little and said something I didn’t quite catch but sounded like, “Trail names are silly.” That’s AT heresy, though Warren Doyle told me the same thing when I asked him if he knew where the tradition of trail names came from. Warren Doyle is an AT legend, having thru hiked it more times than anyone else. So, we’ll just call my new friend “No Name.”

In no time, we’d hiked the nine miles to Big Branch shelter. No Name eats his big meal for lunch and likes to take an hour to cook, take off his boots, and relax. So, I wished him well, since I’d eaten lunch on Styles Peak, and headed down the trail.

AT Heresy

No Name also said something I’d just said to Northstar the night before. While talking about the cumulative effect of months in the long green tunnel he said, “At this point, I’m just in it to finish.” Or something like that. I’ve heard the same sentiment from other hikers lately. Translated, it means we’re not having as much fun as we thought we would, but we’re too stubborn to quit. Or motivated. Or committed. Or resolved.

I know exactly what he meant. It’s why I’ve been reciting my goals every day. And why I’m hoping New Hampshire’s White Mountains will provide some variety and excitement.

I think everyone is feeling it to some degree, but I have rarely heard it spoken out loud. Strangely, I found that negative message very encouraging and energizing, and I finished my day more excited about my hike than I have been for weeks.

I can’t wait for tomorrow.

Daily Stats

• Start: VT 30 (Mile 1659.1)
• End: Forest Road 10 (Mile 1676.8)
• Weather: Cool, overcast with drizzle, humid.
• Earworm: No Matter What (Badfinger) – huh?
• Meditation: Lk. 20:17
• Plant of the Day: Birch
• Goals: Miles closer to New Hampshire
• Best Thing: Conversation with No Name
• Worst Thing: No views on Bromley or Style