Date: 2016-06-14
From: Little Rock Pond Shelter 

To: Governor Clement Shelter
Miles today: 19.7
Weather: light rain

There was a fun moment last night when I heard loud noises and a lot of shuffling around. I popped out one of my earplugs and could tell that it was suddenly downpouring. In a sleepy haze I got up and moved my pack and clothes off the lines that hung right along the edge of the shelter. No point chancing them getting soaked by wind-driven rain. The morning was beautiful, though. NOWA and Roller were gone before I really even started moving around, but I managed to move quickly while packing up and was probably on trail by about 7:15. The trail up to the top of White Rocks mountain is in pretty bad shape, but mostly I was glad to be hiking in good weather again. It was spectacular all day long. Despite not having any on-trail views, the miles over White Rocks might be some of the most singularly beautiful miles of the whole trail. After climbing through mud and spiny rocks, I suddenly found myself in a cathedral of spruce, each tree towering up into the air thirty feet before the branches even began. The forest floor is wide open and covered in fallen needles, with jumbles of white boulders dotting the landscape. On its floor, you can see farther through this forest than just about any other. I came to the first of two rock garden where hikers traditionally build little cairns and inukshuks. I made an impressive pile balancing on a downed log, and was quite happy with it. I got about twenty feet on the trail and heard a big clattering of rocks behind me. Oh well. A project for someone else. The rest of the hike over white rocks passed normally. I decided not to go see the view this time, because of how far I remembered it being last time. I managed not to get lost at Bully Brook like last time, because I knew the trail took a funny hop across the river. I had remembered Bear Mountain as being incredibly enjoyable, probably because it's some of the only clear tread on the AT in Vermont. No roots or rocks, really. But having done the AT in Georgia and North Carolina makes me less impressed by good dirt trail. It was fine. Nothing special. I ran into Roller and NOWA at the airport lookout. She had been soaking up the sun for quite a while before I came by. I informed her that the last time I was here, a guy I was hiking with broke his ankle on this descent. I know I was stepping very carefully all the way down to Clarendon Gorge. No ambulance rides for me, thank you very much. I stepped out onto VT 103 in the beautiful bright sun. A number of people were in the parking lot, and I sidled over to see if any of them would give me a ride to the diner a half mile away, but they were all heading out hiking. So I crossed the road and began my walk. I tried hitching for the first four minutes or so, but after that, the restaurant comes into sight, and I would've felt disingenuous to keep hitching. So I just walked. On the porch of Qu's Whistlestop, I found HareBear (I learned how to spell his name) as well as two older hikers, Mad dog and his friend whose name escapes me, who hiked the trail in 06 and are sectioning from Greylock to Killington. HareBear had just eaten and moved on, planning to summit Killington today. We all sat down, and Roller showed up momentarily. We laid out things out to dry in the sun and plugged in our electronics. Vicky, the owner/waitress extraordinaire, came out and began serving us. I asked her if she remembered setting out two bacon cheeseburgers after-hours last year for two hikers rolling in after they closed, and she said she did! I told her it was me and thanked her for her generosity and compliance. This time, I ordered a maple milkshake, pink lemonade, a Cowboy Burger (piled high with onion rings and BBQ sauce) with an extra patty, and a side of fries. Damned if it wasn't the best burger I've had on the trail. Pine Grove Furnace is a close second, but Qu's knows how to cook a burger. I nearly ofered more, but the fullness hit me just before Vicky could ask me what I wanted. I paid my check and saddled back up for the 7 more miles to Governor Clement shelter. No one picked me up on the way back to the trailhead, either. The climb out of 103 takes you up a steep boulderfield between two cliffs, and was a real ass-kicker, but wasn't as bad as the climb just after Clarendon Shelter up Beacon Hill, which was just as steep but on dirt and mud rather than rocks. The rest of the day was spent climbing towards Killington, over road crossings, through fields, and then along and over two Brooks, Gould and Sargent. This area was hit very hard by Hurricane Irene, I believe, and the deluge that followed washed out a great deal of trail that walked alongside the brooks. The trail has thus been rerouted in a few places to jump up a steep hillside only to return to the brook a few hundred yards later. Very tiring. The crossing of Gould Brook was sketchy, but I managed to stay dry, unlike last year. The water is a little lower. About a mile before the shelter, I came across a sign reading "Katahdin: 500 Miles." I was pretty excited. It seems like I'm getting into the home stretch. Kinda. There was also a trail register there, and it is the only one I found that extends back more than a year! I flipped to June 16, 2015, and found my signature right alongside Good People's. This was also the first time I signed anything as "Portage" rather than "Ben," Good People having suggested that be my name that morning. I finally crossed Sargent Brook right before the shelter, and I didn't want to risk it: I popped my boots off and walked the .1 to Governor Clement in my crocs. I was the first to arrive at around 5, and after setting my things down, I thought I'd go wash up and soak my feet in the Brook. So I headed back down, and when I got there, I decided I might do some good. I waded in in my crocs, then I began shifting big rocks around and gathering others from upstream. I placed four or so stepping stones in the middle of the brook to allow hikers to rock hop the stream. They seemed decently solid to me, and in about 25 minutes, I crossed the Brook in my crocs to test it out. I survived. My feet were getting cold, though, so I went back to the shelter. Roller came up a little after, and said she managed to rock-hop the brook. I was very proud of myself at that moment. Mad dog and his buddy arrived a little later. They rented out, and Roller and I each took half of the shelter, which is dingey and dark, but comfortable. Tomorrow will be over Killington!