National Parks and Recreation

13.8 miles
10.11.20-10.12.20
40˚ and sunny
Pico Camp

After a few days of doing nothing but lying on the couch watching Netflix and soaking my feet and legs in Epsom salt, it was time to get back out on the trail and check the last 4,000 foot mountain in Vermont off the list: Killington Peak. And lucky for me, I would have company for this one!

Canada took a couple of days off, we packed up our bags (with me–the seasoned veteran–taking the tent and other heavy stuff), packed up the dog, and took off for Killington!

Don’t worry, Atlas carried his own food.

We originally had him carry his own sleeping bag too, but even though the weight distribution was correct, the size was not and we couldn’t stop laughing long enough to start hiking, so we had to adjust.

Off we went! The hike up was really nice. It was a very gradual climb the entire six miles and 2,000+ feet. And the fall foliage was especially beautiful in this sunlight.

We weren’t quite sure how Atlas would fare with this hike, it was pretty long with a lot of elevation gain. We hiked Cadillac Mountain in Acadia earlier in the summer and he struggled quite a bit, but it was also 90˚ and brutally hot and sunny that day.

And on this hike, he did great! He was leading us through the woods for most of the way and looked like he was having the time of his life.

Just look at those colors! Another really cool thing about the hike up was the change in terrain and trees as we went up. It happened almost immediately.

We didn’t see a single thru-hiker on the trail which was really bizarre. It was only a few days since I had stepped off the trail and I had never gone an entire day without seeing at least one fellow thru-hiker. Especially being near such a popular peak, I was surprised. I suppose most people just do the Sherburne Pass Trail bypass so they can go by the Long Trail Inn.

The closer we got to the top, the more and more my legs started to really bother me. While it helped affirm my decision to step off the trail, it was not very pleasant. I think my body just finally thought I was giving it time to rest and heal and then a few days later I sprung a 4,000 footer on it and it was like whoa whoa whoa, this was not part of our agreement. But obviously, I powered on through.

We took a quick rest at Cooper Lodge, took some painkillers, and ditched our packs for the scramble up to the peak. Cooper Lodge was as sketchy as I’d heard. It’s just overly used by day-hikers and younguns in the area so it’s in quite a bit of disrepair. But it was nice to have a place to leave our heavy packs as we climbed to the summit (and it didn’t even feel like cheating because the actual Long Trail doesn’t even go to the top of Killington Peak, it’s technically a spur trail).

The scramble from the lodge up to the summit was my favorite part of the hike. It was a very steep climb and we had a ton of fun guiding Atlas up. And he did so good! There was only one part we had to lift him up.

And we were all pretty pumped to finally make it to the top! Although there were WAY too many people and WAY too many people without masks on. We decided to venture around to the other side of the radio tower and luckily found some peace and quiet.

The views were nice, but honestly not really a top summit for me. When I go back to finish the trail, if the weather is bad I’ll probably skip this peak altogether. But I’m obviously still glad we got to do it this year so I could check off all the 4,000 footers in Vermont.

I was talked out of climbing the sketchy watch tower, but I couldn’t resist giving one of the radio towers a little climb.

We didn’t linger too long at the summit. We still had two more miles to hike back down to where we would be camping for the night.

So back down the rock scramble we went!

We could not stop laughing on our way down these rocks. You see, we call Atlas the wrecking ball because he has a tendency to not be aware of his own body and go bowling through people instead of around them. This is usually just mildly funny when he does it to you on, say, a sidewalk. But on the side of a steep mountain, it could be deadly. So I hiked on ahead, living in constant fear, as Canada tried to hike along with him and kept yelling “DO NOT TACKLE HER!” anytime he got a little ahead of her. It was very funny and we were delirious from the long hike up and just could not stop giggling. But he did good! And nobody was tackled off the mountain.

And yay nobody stole our stuff from the lodge! So we strapped back in and began the painful hike down to camp.

It was such a nice change of pace to have someone to hike with. These last few miles down to camp were always the worst for me. The sun is setting, the temperatures are dropping, the leg pain is worsening and I just get anxious to be at camp already. But when you have a friend to hike with, it makes all the difference in the world! We talked and laughed at the dog and before we knew it, we arrived at the Pico Slopes. The Guthook app says there’s plenty of flat ground to pitch tents on, but it was actually just rocky ski slopes surrounded by tall grass on either side.

We hiked a little further to Pico Lodge to see if there were any tent areas around there, but no such luck. And we were pretty determined to tent camp since it’s way warmer and it was supposed to get quite cold overnight. So we hiked back to the ski slopes, stamped down some tall grass (sorry), and set up camp.

Canada set up the tent, sleeping pads and sleeping bags while I got started on dinner. Much to my fingers dismay, it took quite a while to heat up our food because of how cold it was. My little backpacking stove was struggling! (And no, I didn’t learn my lesson and bring gloves with me this weekend. I’m a hopeless case.) But it was a really nice meal! Fancier than anything I had while hiking by myself. Canada got us some nice freeze-dried chili and a chicken and dumplings meal. They were both very good! And we ate them with blue lips and freezing hands in the middle of a ski slope on an abandoned mountain. It really doesn’t get much better than that.

Canada had already wrestled Atlas into his sleeping bag by the time I zipped myself in. If only I knew what I would be up against in a few hours.

Story time! I woke up around 4am and had to pee. Apparently Atlas did too because he followed me out of the tent. So we both did our thing and then returned to the tent. Here’s where the real fun started. Canada had either turned over in her sleep or, because we were on a slight slant, had slid down into the spot where Atlas and his sleeping bag had been. So I had to rip his sleeping bag out from under her body (and check to make sure she was still breathing because she did not move a muscle during any of this) and place it where her head had been.

Then I had to get him into it. I often find myself wishing that there was a hidden camera watching everything I do so that when truly hilarious things do happen, I can rewind the tapes and show everyone how funny it was. This is definitely one of those moments. I kid you not, it was a ten minute long battle between me and Atlas as I wrestled his body into his sleeping bag. And remember: this was all happening right near Canada’s head as she slept through the entire thing. And the most frustrating part was that I couldn’t communicate to him that I was doing this FOR HIM. He would freeze if he wasn’t inside his bag, but he didn’t care.

So FINALLY I got him in. He settled down and rested his head. So I zipped myself into my own sleeping bag and no joke (it could not have been more perfect timing if it had been written into a comedy script), the second my bag was zipped over my head he jumped up, climbed out of his sleeping bag, and walked over to the other side of the tent and plopped down on top of my legs. I was LIVID!

And I realized I was never going to get him back in that thing, so I decided to just unzip his bag and drape it over him like a blanket. Worst case scenario, he was on my legs and I would feel him if he started shivering. And you know what that little bastard did next? The second I rezipped myself back into my own sleeping bag, he stood up, shook off the sleeping bag, spun around a few times, and then plopped back down on my legs.

At this point, I was at a loss. I just yelled, “FINE, THEN FREEZE TO DEATH!”, rolled over, and tried to go back to sleep.

And you guessed it: Canada slept through the entire thing.

Sunrise came all too quickly after this debacle. I had to go back out in the cold again with my too-cold stove and cook us up some oatmeal. As soon as the water was even close to boiling though, I ran back into the tent and we had a nice cozy breakfast in the “warmth”. We packed up the tent as quickly as possible with our freezing fingers and began the uneventful (and, for me, incredibly painful) hike back down to the car.

We treated ourselves with some Taco Bell and a six-pack of beer (Long Trail Ale, of course) and we checked in early to our hotel room to stuff our faces and watch trash TV in a warm bed the rest of the day. It was truly perfect.

I’m so glad Canada was able to join me for this section, even if it was a short couple of days. I never expected to be lonely or want company (I know, I’m weird), but what a difference it made to have a friend to hike with! It made everything so much more enjoyable and rewarding. I don’t know if I could do the entire trail with someone else, because of different hiking speeds and just how I am as a person, but it is definitely nice to have some company from time to time.

I expected to feel kind of different at this point. I had already technically stepped off the trail several days prior, but this was real. I wasn’t going to step foot on the Long Trail again in 2020 (and at the time I thought maybe ever, but now I know that is DEFINITELY not the case). But I didn’t really feel any sort of way. I was ready to be done. My legs were a mess. We walked two minutes from our hotel room to a cute little souvenir shop next door and I almost couldn’t make it. (Yeah.) So it was time.

***

I never would have thought at that point that I would be sitting here two and a half months later wishing I could go back and finish RIGHT NOW. The more I transcribed my journal on to this blog, the more I really started to miss it and regret that I didn’t do the entire thing. (Especially a month ago when I finally got to the point where I could sit down and stand up without excruciating knee pain and needing to use both arms to help.) But I learned a lot that will better prepare me for many things going forward.

And I’ll be back. Probably just as soon as I can. Even if it means hiking through feet of muddy snow melt. I’m ready. And I have a lot of new insight to bring with me. In no particular order:

• Take more naps in the sun
• Use hiking poles on the downhills!
• Start in the south to warm up the legs
• Splurge on better dehydrated meals (or even make my own)
• Start the hike when the sun is out more than 12 hours a day
• HAVE THREE PAIRS OF SOCKS AT ALL TIMES
• Don’t bother packing cheese, I won’t eat it
• Bring camp flip flops
• Allow more time to just have fun and explore
• Pack gloves if it’s going to get below 30˚
• Do NOT bring blueberry muffin Luna Bars, the are VILE
• Stay out for more sunsets, wake up early for more sunrises
• Fight through the pain and finish. the. damned. thing.

I watched Brittany Runs A Marathon the other day (highly recommended if you haven’t yet) and I cried like a baby when she considers quitting right before the end. It was not great. I just got so mad at myself because I knew how mad I would be at her for stopping at the mile 20 mark, which is essentially exactly what I did. And I know I’ll never not feel this way until I just go out and finish the stupid thing. And I’m really starting to think that I need to do the entire thing in one go. I’m a mess. Maybe with two and a half more months of time to think (in which I won’t be writing about how much fun I had on this trip all the time), I’ll have a clearer head. But I wouldn’t be surprised if I set out to do all 272 miles again in the spring.

Not to be corny (okay, yes, to be corny), but as John Muir so famously said: “The mountains are calling and I must go.”