Date: 2022-07-12
From: Sargent Brook 

To: Churchill Scott Shelter
Miles today: 9.6
Weather: clear sky

We had decided as we laid down last night that we¢d get moving at 6:00am. There were afternoon rain & thunderstorms in the forecast. Killington Peak was the next hill. Killington, at 4229 feet, is the tallest peak since Apple Orchard Mountain south of Shenandoah National Park, almost 900 miles behind us. It¢s rocky summit isn¢t the place to be in a thunderstorm. We knew an early start could get us over the summit before 10am - well ahead of the forecasted storm.I set my alarm for 5:30. I was cowboy camping & had agreed to get the water boiling, bear bags retrieved, and rain fly off of tent (a natural ¢alarm clock¢) before 6:00. I woke at 5:25, checked my watch, turned off the alarm, and promptly fell back asleep. Ten minutes later, a Winter Wren lit on a nearby branch and let off her melody. I reached for my watch to turn of the ¢alarm¢ and realized what had happened! Thanks, friend!We were on the trail by 6:40 and got a spitting rain straightway. We pressed on after again checking the forecast. As we climbed, we could tell that the cloud cover above the thick canopy was moving fast - now very dark, now light, now sun dappled, now dim. The changes were a clue about the winds at altitude. Blowing from the west, it was a confirmation of changing weather.As we got higher on the mountain, the forest changed from deciduous to boreal. Spruce and fir replaced birch and maple. The forest floor was covered in moss and small fern, both hiding rock and boulder beneath. The trail bed became littered with short needle and small pinecone making footfalls nearly silent. The smell was like Christmas Tree. Despite the elevation, now nearing four-thousand feet, the temperature stayed pleasant. The trail was on the leeward side of the ridge for most of the climb and the thick forest provided a good barrier when we gained the southern shoulder of the mountain.We arrived at the Cooper Lodge Shelter at about 9:30. The boys had been there for 15 minutes and had talked with the recently departed Tin Man who had been in the peak for the morning sunset. The boys stashed packs in the shelter and we started up the blue-blazed side trail to the summit with rain gear in hand (I had decided it would probably be easier carrying my pack than having to put it back on again later - a decision I regretted in the next sentence). The trail quickly got steep, then very rocky, then hand-over-hand climbing in spots as it climbed 300 feet in 0.2 miles!>span class="s2">We took a different path off the summit, one that led to the Killington Ski Resort. We had read that the Lodge was closed Tuesdays and Wednesdays (it was Tuesday) but hoped it would be opened at 10:00 as advertised. It was not. We took Tin Man¢s advice and found a boardwalk, ski path, social trail that skirted around the mountaintop and back to Cooper Lodge. The forecast had put the storm at 3:00. We had 4.5 miles to go to our evening destination. We started north again before 11:00 with plenty of time to make it, feeling good about the days progress.Vermont - The Green Mountain State. It¢s name comes from Vert Mont; literally ¢Green Mountain.¢ (how am I 43 years old and hadn¢t realized this until walking 50+ miles in the state itself?). Vermont has been a return to the woods after the business of New York, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. Cell service is terrible (that¢s refreshing), roads are gravel, nights are dark and quiet. The literal trail here is quiet. I mentioned before how the needles and cones muffle the hikers footfalls but the same happens at lower elevations. The rich soil - a key ingredient in the infamous mud - is malleable when damp. The leaves from the thick canopy, trodden by dozens of hikers a day, create a soft underfoot landing. Even the rocks, laid as level step stones in the trail, are easy to roll heel-to-toe on. All these together allow a 200lb guy with a 30-plus pound pack wearing size 14 waffle stompers to cruise nearly silently through the forest. It¢s made for some interesting wildlife interactions. Yesterday, after the epic trail magic, I was a good 10 minutes behind 4th place in the marching order, alone with my thoughts, and rounded a switchback going up Bear Mountain. A chipmunk, facing me in the middle of the trail, was intently working over a new snack, turning it with his front paws as he shaved off the outer husk with his teeth. Another step from me would have made contact. I froze. He didn¢t notice me at all. So engrossing was his morsel that we faced each other like this for nearly a minute. He finished his task, tucking the fern in his cheek, and turned 90 degrees to his left. I saw him see me at that moment; saw his body tense and flinch a millimeter lower, crouching. Sure that he had been spied but unsure of the best course of action (freeze or flight?) he became a statue. Another minute passed. Then two. Neither of us moved. Then shifting my weight ever so slightly, he detected my movement and was off like a rocket. A combination of quiet trail and an excellent chipmunk snack brought about that unlikely meeting. Two days ago, Joni and I were hiking together over similar trail when a Bluejay, close in on the trail to the right, let out a warning call, intimidating and insistent. A second, like a dog unsure of what he¢s barking at, let out a similar call to the left of the trail. The second then flew across the trail in front of us and, I think, dove 10 feet on to the ground about 30 feet to the right of the trail. I¢m not sure if it¢s possible for a Bluejay to mimic an injured woodland creature but I think that second Jay gave it a shot. Joni and I had stopped and were intently listening for clues about what was going on. The first Jay continued to insist that we leave, repeating his original call at regular intervals. Had we come near a Bluejay nest? Were these the parents, trying to draw us away from the chicks? Had we startled them with our quiet approach? I wanted to go investigate the sound to our right but the trail beckoned us north. We moved along on Vermont¢s quiet trail. Back on Killington, we were headed downhill, boys far in front, Mom and Dad bringing up the rear. Joni and I agreed that, while the day up to now had been difficult physically, we were both mentally tired. The race up to and over the summit together with a sprucing number of small decisions we were making on the summit had left us weary. We caught the boys at the trail junction to Pico and decided to eat lunch then. We had originally thought we¢d get to the shelter first and then have a late lunch. Beef jerky, sharp cheddar, and Fritos made a terrific and satisfying lunch. We ate all of all of it.Two more miles and 50 minutes later we pulled into Churchill Scott shelter. It was 2:30. There were 2 hikers there trying to decide if they should wait for the storm or leave and push on northward. She read the new forecast: ¢Severe thunderstorms before 5:00 with the potential for hail and damaging winds.¢ The radar showed a serious front moving in. That should settle any stay-or-go decision, shouldn¢t it? They left.We elected to keep the tent stowed for now but did lay out a ground cloth to claim our spot. We had decided that Baxter & I would do the shelter while the other three would tent. If the storm cleared out after 5 like the forecast and radar seemed to indicate then we could pitch (and later pack) a dry tent. Another hiker arrived not sure if she was staying but, aware of the forecast, relieved that she was under a roof. We waited. >span class="s2">span class="s2">It was over as fast as it started. The sun was making shadows on the ground before ten minutes was up. The whole thing was fascinating. Mountain Man, a southbound section hiker, walked up, soaking wet. He was less than 2 mile into his hike having started at US 4, the paved road we¢re headed to tomorrow. ¢I wanted to ask the shuttle driver to wait¢ he said. Less than 30 minutes after shouldering his pack he got hit with the storm.About 20 minutes later Neo, Professor, and Gumby arrived. We had met them at Stratton Pond Shelter. They are NOBOs and were on the trail down from Killington when the maelstrom hit. Gumby sheltered under a tree. Professor ran. ¢I don¢t know why¢, she said. ¢Just excited.¢ They were wet to the core and their legs were filthy from ankle to waistline. ¢Looks like they¢ve been four-wheelin¢¢, said Mountain Man, nodding at their legs. All were glad there hadn¢t been lightning as the forecast had predicted. >span class="s2">We¢ve decided to pick up the trail again in Norwich VT just 2 trail miles south of Hanover so that we can walk into New Hampshire. Tomorrow night will be our first hostel stay at Hanover Adventure Tours. We are all looking forward to that!