On the Long Trail
My friend, Tyler, leads the way up Camel’s Hump in Vermont. Jon Hull
Tyler Beakes and I planned a backpacking trip for this week. We talked on the phone and discussed our approach to the Long Trail starting in February. On Monday, we set off for our trip with visions of mountains in our minds and ended up in a stranger’s home instead. The following are entries excerpted out of my notebook from a trip I will remember forever.
Monday, July 10
By day’s end, this region of Northern Vermont will get up to 7 inches of rainfall in 24 hours. The downpour started last night and continues as I write this. It became evident that we wouldn’t be on the trail this morning when the governor declared a state of emergency and President Biden ordered federal aid for the impending disaster.
We stayed in a nice Airbnb in East Montpelier to wait out the floods. The Winooski River would flood downtown Montpelier with several feet of water. Jon Hull
We prepared to get wet. I visited REI and L.L. Bean yesterday before I drove North to pick up Tyler. We were not quite expecting this level of rain. We need to go back to the drawing board to fix our itinerary.
The initial plan was to cover 55 miles in five days. We’d start in Warren, VT at the Lincoln Gap and end by climbing Mount Mansfield, the highest peak in Vermont (4395’). We will probably still climb Mansfield this week, but we’ll need to cut today’s portion of the hike to make that happen. That is heavily dependent on the condition of the trails and whether today’s flooding allows us to access a trailhead tomorrow.
There were a couple of moments during our drive up this morning when we doubted our decision to go on with the trip. The first came when a convoy of emergency vehicles from North Carolina blew passed us on the highway. They had boats — lots of boats — and I started to wonder if the flooding might be more than we could handle.
The second moment came when we drove into Rutland County. Our phones blared with an unpleasant noise and an automated message flashed on our screens:
“GET TO HIGH GROUND NOW! DO NOT TRAVEL UNLESS YOU ARE FLEEING FOR SAFETY.”
I read it out loud as Tyler drove. He said, “Are we the dumbest people on the planet?”
We might be, but it worked out alright. We are situated comfortably atop a hill in an Airbnb in East Montpelier.
Wednesday, July 12
Gleason Brook flows beneath my hammock. Jon Hull
At the moment, I am by a brook along the Long Trail in my hammock. The word is out on whether or not this is a feasible sleeping setup, but it seems nice so far. I almost feel as if I’m suspended directly over the water.
If I lift my head, I can see the brook and nothing else. The liquid over rock produces a hypnotizing, patternless babble that I hope will help me fall asleep tonight. Adrenaline was coursing through my body after our first day on the trail, so I didn’t sleep great last night.
Tyler and I went hard yesterday. We hiked for eight hours, climbed three peaks, covered ~11 miles, and totaled 4000’ in elevation. It was the most challenging physical feat I have ever accomplished.
This morning, we chatted with a couple of thru-hikers, people who set out from one terminus and hike the entirety of the trail. All of them said yesterday is the hardest section of the Long Trail they’ve covered so far. That made me feel a little better about how much I struggled.
We agreed to a chiller day today. The original plan was to go 17 miles today, but that would basically be impossible for me at this point. I did not think I could take another step at the 6.5-mile mark yesterday. Somehow, I managed 4.5 more miles.
I am glad I am out here with Tyler. He’s looking out for me. When I admitted how much I was struggling last night, he offered to switch packs with me for the last mile. Still, he’ll push me as far as I am willing to go.
Halfway up Camel’s Hump, I turned and took this photo. This section of the trail would most accurately be classified as a hybrid of climbing and hiking. Jon Hull
We climbed Camel’s Hump (4083’) this morning and descended the backside for the rest of the day. We passed a shelter at the five-mile mark. The next shelter was 8-10 miles away. I don’t have that in my legs or my blistered feet, so… I’m in a hammock, beneath my rainfly, beside the brook, lathered in bug spray.
As I settled into my hammock, a girl we met at last night’s shelter rolled into our camp. Her “trail name” is ‘Nutmeg’ because she’s a teacher in Connecticut, the Nutmeg State. We haven’t learned her real name.
Nutmeg is friendly, but she is struggling. Her plan is to hike the entire Long Trail, and she’s made it most of the way. Tonight, she was so exhausted that she could hardly put a sentence together when she came into our camp. We played gin rummy and ate a freeze-dried meal while she recovered and set up her tent.
Nutmeg is on a pilgrimage. She is not in great shape, her pack is too heavy, and she’s light on experience. Many of the people we’ve run into out here are essentially professional hikers. They come from states far and wide to check the Long Trail off of their list. Nutmeg is not one of those people. This will be her one and only thru-hike.
July 13
We are at Duck Brook Shelter on the Old Long Trail. It was an easy day which I needed. My feet look pretty gnarly, my shoulders are covered in a rash from the combination of sweat and the friction of my pack, and my legs are tired.
This experience is a good reminder for me to stay in shape. I’m in good shape at the moment but not quite as good as Tyler. It became clear to me early on that I was holding him back somewhat. Had he been hiking alone, he’d be much further along.
I made some rookie mistakes. My heavy pack and newish boots made the going slow. I am happy with what I was able to accomplish, and I’m also curious to see how I would do if I were properly prepared. It also did not help that I was nursing a quad injury leading up to the hike. If I could have, I definitely should have been training for this. Rookie mistakes are rites of passage.
Tyler and I got to our shelter around noon. The Old Long Trail is a bit more unkempt, but we found our shelter pretty easily. We went for a quick walk up to some ledges and took in a view unburdened by our packs. Even with my blistered feet, I felt like I was flying. We gathered sticks and observed some firey orange Eastern Spotted Newts who seemed surprised to see us.
Back at camp, we prepared for our first fire of the trip and started reminiscing. Other than Vermont’s worst floods in a century and my body falling apart, I am happy with this trip. I climbed mountains with a way-to-heavy pack. We did not make it to Mount Mansfield, but I learned how to truly prep for a backpacking trip. I got humbled which is an awesome way to learn.
A storm is rolling in with impressive lightning strikes up on the mountains. The thunder surrounds us as it rolls through the valleys. I’m hoping today’s rain abates before the Winooski River comes back up again. We’ll do some light hiking and end our trip tomorrow.
Tyler walks across the Winooski Footbridge to our pick-up spot. A few days ago the river nearly washed this bridge away. This was our last day. Jessica and Maddie, Tyler’s girlfriend, picked us up about an hour after this photo. We headed to a bed and breakfast in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom to nurse our sore feet.
