Date: 2004-08-24
From: Shelter Near Gould Brook, VT

To: Climbing Mount Killington
Miles today: 14.6

This morning, I began ascending Killington Mountain, with an elevation exceeding 4,000 feet. Here is a description of my ascent.The ascent began gradually along a primitive woods road. The burned out shell of a car was abandoned on this part of the trail. Beside the car was a birch tree; part of its white trunk was blackened from the fire.Further up the trail, my presence spooked a flock of grouse that had been sitting on the ground, camouflaged, near the side of the path. The birds took to flight one at a time, rather then bursting off simultaneously. After I had passed the spot they had occupied, a single grouse flew off. I wondered why this last bird had allowed me to pass near it and had then flown off.As the elevation increased, the deciduous trees gave way to evergreens. Higher still, these evergreens became smaller in size and grew in dense concentrations.On the ground, almost everything¢rocks, stumps, roots, logs, and the bottoms of tree trunks, was covered by a lumpy carpet of moss. The Appalachian Trail, dark and brown, snaked upwards through the green veneer.With each step, instant decisions were being made: Do I step on that root? Or step between that root and another root? Where should I place on the ground the tips of my wooden hiking sticks?Sometimes, after I had placed the tips of my sticks on the ground, then leaned on them for leverage, they had sunk way too deep into the soil; this would cause me to momentarily lose my balance.At some locations, the trail steepened so much that I used my hands to pull myself upwards.Beside the trail, a tiny stream flowed over some moss and plunged down the side of a waist high wall of rock. There, I replenished my water supply.Further up, I heard a distant tapping sound and a hum of electricity. I surmised that the sound was coming from a gondola; this was encouraging, it meant that I was nearing the summit.A cold and refreshing breeze filtered through the trees. I sucked down gobs of this air, not from exhaustion, but from a sense of well being.The Appalachian Trail linked with another trail. When this happened, the path under my feet widened and became easier to walk upon. This development further suggested that I was nearing the summit. I surmised that the wider, more trod upon pathway was a result of usage from day hikers who had rode up on the nearby gondola.The trail soon leveled off, another indication that I was close to the top.I passed by a small stump positioned in the middle of the trail. Five brown roots from the stump reached out across the darkened soil of the trail. The stump and its roots reminded me of an octopus. In a bizarre flight of imagination, I envisioned this octopus stump coming alive and wrapping its roots, or tentacles, around the ankles of a hiker.A sign indicated that the summit was located .02 mile up an exceedingly steep, blue blazed path. This path was chock full of rocks and small boulders. I pretty much clawed my way up to the summit.At the top, I stepped upon a rocky facade and was treated to a near panoramic view of the Green Mountains.What an exhilarating sight!Behind me on the summit were some communication towers and microwave dishes. A workman had climbed part of the way up one of the towers. He shouted to an associate and pointed to the sky. A B52 bomber was flying high above us. It was being refueled by a second airplane¢a tanker. The bomber dwarfed in size the other plane. When the fuel had been transferred, the tanker angled away from the B52.I shouted over to the workman, asking him about the microwave dishes. He told me that they were used to convey telephone and internet communications. Each dish was capable of handling 2,400 transmissions at the same time. I stood at the spot where the blue blaze trail crests the summit. One of the dishes was aimed directly toward me.I pointed at the dish and shouted to the workman, "Are there people talking through me?"He replied, "Don't worry; it won't cause your nuts to burn off.""Yeah, but are people talking through me?""Yes."Talk about irony. There I was, relaxing in the quietude of the summit, far away from the hustle and bustle of life below. At the same time, hundreds of conversations were passing through me. And what about internet communications? Were email messages passing through me? God forbid, was someone downloading porn through me? Actually, I was amused by the situation. The lyrics of a song composed by the late singer Harry Neilson came to mind. "Everyone's talking at me,Can't hear a word they're saying,Only the echoes of my mind..."