The Adventure Begins…Finally!

I can’t recall becoming seriously interested in backpacking, but 7 or 8 years ago, I got it in my head that I’d like to hike the Long Trail in Vermont—a 273-mile trail up the spine of Vermont, through the Green Mountains, bordered by the Massachusetts state line in the south and Canada in the north.

I had scheduled the hike a couple of different times, even accumulated a four-week supply of backpacking meals and mapped out a complete itinerary. But for different reasons, the plans fell through and the hike was cancelled.

But the interest didn’t die.

So, at the beginning of this year, my wife insisted she wanted me to attempt the Long Trail, and I discussed with the church leadership the possibility of taking a month off to complete it. They enthusiastically supported the goal and told me to go for it. After all, everyone concluded, time’s running out (I just turned 65, after all), so if not now…then when???

While I would’ve loved for my wife to join me on this adventure, she really didn’t think she could do it (and wasn’t sure she could handle going four days or more between showers!), so I invited my younger sister to go along. She was more than eager for the adventure.

First of all, needed to figure out the most workable time to schedule the four-week adventure. Had to be after Memorial Day—the Green Mountain Club (responsible for the trail) strongly discourages hiking the trail any earlier because of excessively muddy conditions.

For most of June, the black flies can be brutal. July can be very hot and humid, and in mid-summer, water sources tend to be less reliable. Our wedding anniversary is August 9 (the day this post hits! Happy 43^rd to my bride!), and just didn’t seem right to be gone for a week before and three weeks after that! Mid-August through September is generally considered prime time to do the Long Trail, but there’s a conference I need to attend the third week of September, so that’s out.

Considering everything, we landed on July, accepting the risks of heat and lack of water. At one point in late May, however, I wondered if we should postpone the trip—or cancel it altogether. Vermont was experiencing a significant drought, no rain for weeks, and the buzz on the Long Trail sites was serious concern about dried up water sources. Not a good scenario at all.

Nevertheless, we carried on.

My sister began in earnest researching and buying gear. We both got to work on food planning. I pulled out the itinerary from years earlier, reviewed and revised it more than once. We would leave Sterling on July 2, drive to Williamstown, MA, begin the hike on Tuesday, July 4, and reach the Canadian border by July 29 or so (built in some buffer time at the end, of course!).

One critical planning issue is food supply. Obviously, you can’t haul 28 days’ worth of food, so it’s necessary to figure out a resupply plan. Once that was determined, we had to divide everything up, pack it into boxes, and schedule shipment times and destinations—which, of course, demanded sticking to our schedule lest we go hungry!

Finally, after years of delay and disappointment, on July 2 we left Sterling for Vermont, arriving in Williamstown, MA, on the evening of July 3.

Why were we in Massachusetts?

We opted to hike the trail going northbound (NOBOs, in “trail speak”), and to get to the Long Trail starting point requires taking one of two approach trails—either the 3.8 mile Pine Cobble trail from Williamstown or the slightly longer, but not as steep, Appalachian Trail approach from North Adams. We chose the Pine Cobble.

As it turned out, the drought had ended. The previous couple of weeks brought much-needed rain. It had rained the day we arrived, and rain was in the forecast for the 4^th…and the 5^th…and the 6^th….

Oh well, wouldn’t have to worry about water!

We thought.

Got up early on July 4^th—today we start! From just outside our motel room, Mt. Greylock loomed to the south, shrouded in low-hanging clouds. The Pine Cobble overlook, 1600’ above us, near the top of a mountain to the northeast, could barely be seen through the clouds. We would pass that way in a couple of hours.

At least it wasn’t raining—yet.

We had some time before our scheduled ride would take us to the trailhead, so I sat by the window looking out at Mt. Greylock, opened the Bible app on my phone, and read Psalm 121—scheduled for that day according to my reading plan.

“I lift up my eyes unto the hills. From where does my help come?” it began.

I had no idea at the time how very poignant the words of this ancient song would become! Little did I know how often my mind would return to it over the next several days.

But it was time to begin!

The proprietor of the small, locally owned motel graciously offered us a ride to the Pine Cobble Trail trailhead. By 9:30, we began the 1,650’ ascent to the Long Trail starting point, and it wasn’t supposed to rain for a few hours—a good beginning!

This approach trail was well-named, meandering its way uphill through a forest of pines, their distinctive fragrance at times filling the air. Pines, yes, but also cobbles! Most of the trail feels like you’re walking on a cobblestone street paved with uneven stones! I was already grateful for my rugged hiking boots and the Black Diamond poles.

Both my sister and I had done a good bit of hiking prior to the Long Trail adventure trying to prepare as best we could. But it’s one thing to hike a trail in the Midwest with its relatively smooth trails and minimal elevation gain. For instance, my most recent hike had been 3.25 miles with an elevation gain of 187’. My sister, who lives in Indiana, had completed a 5.5-mile hike with an elevation gain of 443’.

On this first day’s hike, we needed to gain about 2,000’ in 9 miles before reaching the shelter for the night, and nearly 1,700 of that in less than 4 miles!

About 2 miles in, we came across a chatty fellow coming down the trail—a local who hiked the Pine Cobble frequently. “You’re getting close to the junction with AT,” he said. “Just a little farther you’ll come to the ‘wishing well’ tree—can’t miss it! Right in the middle of the trail! The junction’s not far after that!”

We thanked him (and were especially grateful for the few moments to catch our breath) and continued huffing and puffing upwards…ever upwards!

The “wishing well” was indeed a unique feature of the trail, and I found myself silently wishing for a less aggressive grade!

Alas, three hours and almost four miles later, we reached THE sign—the iconic marker announcing the beginning of the Long Trail, “A Footpath in the Wilderness.”

We were greeted by another ominous sign—a moat of mud surrounded THE sign.

What indeed lay ahead?

To be continued….