Date: 2013-06-30
From: Arlington/Kelley Stand Road

To: Manchester, VT - Green Mtn Hostel
Miles today: 18.5
Weather: broken clouds

Day 3: ArliKelley Stand Road to VT 11/30 ¢ Green Mountain Hostel¢I get by with a little help from my friends.¢ (The Beatles) And from the Frendly Manifesto: ¢We strive to be curators within a community of people who believe in cultivating lasting frendships in an effort to foster collaborative success and rid future generations of exclusivity.¢Argh, what a day! I slept better last night than the night before but the morning was a tough, slow, 3-mile ascent of Stratton Mountain. To be fair, the first mile was a quite pleasant having relatively flat stretches dry enough to give my boots a break from being mud-carrying duties. It really was lovely. But fear not, Dear Reader, the trail never disappoints and so came a number of puncheon boards spanning damp ground only to terminate at very deep mud holes once more. A cruel joke; it seemed as if the GMC made a half-hearted attempt with the boards or that there simply were not enough with which to cover an entire trail of mud! While struggling through this area, more than once was I hoodwinked into placing a foot where I should not! The resultant punishment, the near disappearance of my boot into the slurry followed by the horrid sucking sound emitted from the earth as I pulled aforementioned boot free. I won¢t belabor the point¢¦ the trail followed in such a fashion for the next two miles but now up hill. I stopped a few times merely to recharge my will: I was getting to the top of this damnable mountain no matter what. I finally reached the summit around 10:30; a lovely flattish area with hosting a caretaker cabin, an oddly comfortable rock bench, and a very tall fire tower with a plaque describing how, in the early 1900s, this very mountain provided inspiration to James Taylor for the creation of the Long Trail which predates and coincides with the Appalachian Trail (approx 105 miles). While there, I met the local caretakers, Jean and Hugh, who have been doing this for over 30 years between being firewatchers and then GMC caretakers. It had been cloudy during the morning and it seemed like there might be rain but the skies were not revealing how close that rain might be. While I was talking to Jean the wind moved through and blew clear the immediate area. I thought I might actually get a decent view from the tower, so up I climbed. The best views were not at the top of the fire tower which is enclosed in grimy glass windows but rather from the open-air platforms just below it. It was certainly a beautiful 360-degree view: lakes (ok ponds: Stratton, Bourne, Little and Branch Pond) dotted the valleys, and mountains rose up all around. I could even make out the ski lift on Bromley Mountain which, by the AT anyway, was over 16 miles away. I did not get to see (at least I don¢t think so) the Whites of New Hampshire, but it was still an amazing view up there. Funny thing, I didn¢t get reasonable signal from the tower, but I did finally get one about 100 ft from the base of it. While I was up in the tower, No Doubt arrived. I told him that I planned to go to Manchester tonight and stay at the Green Mtn Hostel. He was still suffering from a pulled muscle and would be making that stop only tomorrow. I called ahead to Jeff at Green Mtn and made my reservation before even looking at the time. It was just after 11:00 am and I still had nearly 14 miles to travel through what surely would be more mud. That would be 7 hours of walking if I could keep up a 2 mph pace which would put me to the road at 6-6:30 pm. I wasn¢t certain that I could do it, but I also knew I wanted out of the wet clothes and I had phoned my sister-in-law and brother who were happy to have me visit a little earlier than planned. Yep, I was going to try to do it in spite of the fact that I had only hiked about 12 miles a day the last two days- I was going to try for the big mile day. Off I went¢¦Day 3 Stratton Mtn ViewsI flew down the mountain as fast as I could, given the propensity of sections with more rocks and more mud. It was 3 miles from the top of Stratton to the Stratton Pond Shelter which was a little off the trail, but I really wanted to see it. I stopped by the shelter, which was beautifully constructed, and had a quick lunch before moving on again. In a very short .2 miles, I arrived at Stratton Pond, and what a site that was! I considered not going to Manchester but staying here instead to enjoy a swim in a mountain-fed pond but cast a stone into that thought and watched it ripple away to the distant shore in my mind. I was definitely on a mission- even if it was not the Zenesque communing with nature one. On I moved again and the next 3-4 miles were really the worst in so many ways. I hopped between wet ground and wet rock or wet ground and wet boards. It was so slick in spots I went sliding a number of times including landing twice quite hard once on the boards, and once off. When I had first looked at the profile on the map (back at home during my planning), it looked so darn easy just little bumps on the profile after the climb of Stratton. But again, I was a victim of AT amnesia! I have been section hiking for over 10 years and know better than to believe what the profile on the map shows. The terrain wasn¢t nearly as easy as I thought it would be and of course the mudslides and holes just added to the difficulty. Still, I moved as quickly as possible and the afternoon turned into a whirlwind of rocks, mud-slicks, raging brooks, streams (that I¢m certain don¢t normally exist outside of the rainy season) and a couple of rivers. As fast as I felt I was moving, I knew it was not fast at all and picking a way through the terrain obstacles, or picking myself back up after falling backwards like a turtle into a gully took a lot energy. The trail gods graciously provided about 34 of a mile of a walk along a road ¢ Old Rootville Road. This concession freed my eyes from the ground, my mind from calculating the easiest path and my feet from pulling free from mud. It was spectacular actually, to just walk along a road! As I neared the point at which I needed to reenter the woods, I noticed a sign on a tree¢¦ ¢Look Up¢ and then further up a sign ¢Prospect Rock¢ and an arrow pointing in the opposite direction of the trail. What the heck, I went to have a look. Prospect Rock is a lovely overlook of Manchester Center and per the guide Dorset. From Prospect Rock to VT 11/30, it¢s about 5 miles¢¦ 5 very long miles. 5 miles during which the thunder started, grew to a crescendo and then coordinated with the rain to dump more water on my already soggy self. I kept praying that the rain would hold off until I got to the road, but those prayers went ignored and it rained and rained and rained. Why bother putting a rain jacket on? I didn¢t. I threw on the pack cover and tried to keep moving quickly, stopping only to occasionally clean the mud off my legs and boots. I was wondering how I would find a hitch into town looking like a drowned rat and a muddy one at that. I tried to stay clean but there was more mud than there were puddles or streams to de-mudify in. I reached the road, exhausted and wet but the rain had finally stopped about 20 minutes before. Crossing VT 11/30, I stopped at the entrance to a large parking area and used my remaining water to get the bulk of the mud off my legs and boots; no point looking more disgusting than I had to. I stuck out my thumb and hoped for a ride. You have to appreciate that earlier in the day, Jean (from Stratton Mtn) told me how the locals were all trained up about picking up hikers, so I figured this was going to be a 3-car-passing-tops hitch, but for 20 minutes or so no less than 20 VT-plated vehicles (along with several non-VT-plated vehicles) zoomed by me. During that time I decided that I might as well walk in the direction of town. I did not remember that the distance was about 5.5 miles- it¢s probably good that I did not. I kept walking with my thumb stuck out beside me, and finally a car from New York pulled in front of me and a very nice young man named Brian drove me into town. Brian had just returned from working a big festival near Magic Mountain- calledThe Frendly Gathering. Well thanks, Brian for being so friendly (there is NO I in frend!) and picking up a dead tired hiker!Day 3: Water, water, everywhere!I got into town, stopped at a Stewarts to pick up a few junk food items, then stopped at a Fire-Grilled pizza place for a slice of sausage and onion (YUM) then I finally called Jeff who brought me to the nicest, cleanest, biggest hiker-only hostel I¢ve ever seen. I mean, it is an entire fully furnished house just for hikers! I met two Canadian ladies and a man from FL named Double-Check. I got cleaned up, did laundry, ate 12 a pint of Ben & Jerry¢s and went to bed happy and dry. Tomorrow I will be taking the bus from Manchester up to Rutland and spend a few days with family, hopefully letting my feet dry out and recover (they look horrible). Thank you, thank you, thank you, Brian for the ride. And thank you Jeff and Regina for a lovely place to crash for the night!!Goodnight from 40 miles into my hike and 538.1 miles from Katahdin!More photos for the trip can be seen at: 2000Miler Vermont Day 3