Date: 2013-07-02
From: Bennington, Vermont, mi 1,607.7

To: Stratton Pond Shelter, mi 1,637.1
Miles today: 29.4
Weather: light rain

As good fortune should have it, I had found an older gentleman the previous day, staying at the Autumn Inn, somewhere below my dark and dingy room, who offered to drive me back up the grade out of Bennington to the AT. I mentioned this to Stumbles, White Russian, and Alex, a group I had hiked with since Kent, CT, incase they wanted an easy ride back, however, they had essentially just arrived in town in the late, wet afternoon the previous day, and were likely planning another zero day. The AT climbed steeply from VT 9 to Porcupine Ridge. It was cool, overcast, and wet today. I made it to the Goddard Shelter by midmorning, drenched, and somewhat hypothermic. A young woman was there, whom I recall was heading southbound. I consumed some complex carbohydrates, including some of the delicious cheddar I was generously given the day before by the owners of Henry's Market. Cheese, especially aged Vermont cheddar, was a real treat after weeks of dehydrated food. It was so cold and damp today, that a fire would have been ideal for rekindling my core. I was not getting any warmer sitting in the shelter, so I pushed on, up the final ascent to the summit of Glastenbury Mountain, where a lookout tower stood high above the firs carpeting the ridge line. I set my pack at the base, and climbed the switchbacking flight of metal steps to the platform for a view of where I came from and where I would be heading. Low clouds blanketed the distant peaks, though there was enough visibility to see perhaps several miles skirting the mountain. North of Glastenbury, the AT traversed more rugged, rocky terrain, dipping up and down, the most prominent dip being where the oddly named Kid Gore Shelter was located. By late afternoon, I was making the long ascent up the flanks of Stratton Mountain. For those history buffs out there, this particular peak was where one of the early AT founders, Benton MacKaye stood, and first conceived the idea of one continuous wilderness path stretching from Georgia to Maine. The climb up Stratton, was not so much steep, but seemingly infinite. It was particularly rocky, not that the terrain before it wasn't. After finally reaching the summit, I passed by a small caretaker cottage, and yet another lookout tower. I did not climb this one, given the lateness in the day, and the overcast skies. I pressed on, after gazing at the summit mileage sign, realizing that darkness would be falling soon. I was now shooting for the Stratton Pond Shelter at the base of the mountain, about 3 miles further. After hiking over a section of the AT under current reconstruction, I arrived at the crowded shelter just before darkness. The shelter was fortunately large enough to accommodate myself. The occupants were friendly. There were a couple of families with young children, among a few through hikers whom I bunked across from. I cooked dinner on the common dining bench covered beneath the front of the shelter. While I cooked, the familiar sound of thunder again clapped. The rain followed, perhaps the heaviest I had witnessed in days. The ground outside was obscured by sheets of water. I was thankful to have made it to this shelter in such timing.