USFS 10 1672.9 to Clarendon Shelter 1688.6 (15.7 miles, 663.2 total miles)
After a poor night of sleep it was very hard to get up in the morning, but I dragged myself out of bed around 6:15. We all spent the next 45 minutes or so getting our bags packed and situated, then headed downstairs to go to breakfast.
We walked over to a bakery a couple blocks down, and I got my usual bacon egg and cheese on a bagel and an iced latte. Jedi found a couple pink grapefruit muffins that were only $.75 each and he let me have one of them.
We sat and ate, waiting for Nance and Neon to show up as well. Nance had brought a pickup truck and everyone was able to get their bags loaded in the bed. Jedi, QT, Baked Potato, and I followed the truck in Baked Potato‘s car.
Everyone else’s trail head was 12 minutes away, and we spent a few minutes in the parking lot hanging out. Quarter Tank went to grab my bag with a questioning look, as to if I was coming with them or not. I shook my head sadly, but I was extremely tempted, because I knew I could come back and make up the 15 miles in just a few days.
However, I had made an agreement with myself that I wouldn’t skip any miles after last time, and Jedi gave me a hug seeing how tough it was for me to say no. Eventually everyone hiked out, except Tater, Nance, and I. It was nice to know we’d see each other in just a few days.
Baked Potato and I got back in the car for a half an hour drive to my trail head. On the way there, I was surprised to find myself fighting back tears. I had been feeling emotional the last few days, and it was all building to a head.
Most of the Cult was hiking together, and got to hike together all the time. Meanwhile, Tater was going back to Manchester where he would be hanging out with Timelord, Sandals, and plenty of other hikers it sounded like. I would be the only one alone for the next few days.
I had gone through a lot in the past couple years, and in most of my life, when it came to group dynamics. The day before, I had gotten an email with a preliminary confirmation of a diagnosis I suspected I had, which contributed heavily to this aspect of my being. I had been waiting two months for the results.
Right then it seemed like no matter what I did in life, I always ended up alone. And I was okay being alone, and in fact I was quite good at it. I’d lived alone for the majority of the last five years, and had become highly self-sufficient.
So it was very difficult that just when I had opened myself up to the idea of not being alone all the time, I just couldn’t keep up with the group physically. And the other person that I had spent a lot of time with, Baked Potato, when I wasn’t with the Cult, wasn’t hiking and he had other hikers to help.
It was because of some of those prior group dynamics that I had been through in the last couple years, that I had ended up doing a flip-flop hike. It wasn’t my first choice, and I was scared this would happen. The desire to keep up with NOBOs, and a physical inability to do so.
And then of course, looming ever closer, was the reality that once we hit Katahdin, everyone would go away. Including Baked Potato, who had only budgeted enough to be out on the trail for the northern half. I was now just over halfway through the northern section of my hike, and the loneliness I might face down south, that Wizard had dealt with, truly scared me.
Tears streamed down my face as we drove, and it was the most I’d cried since I started hiking. All the things I hadn’t yet processed from before the trail, what I was dealing with now on the trail, and what the future might hold all compounded in my head and my heart into one swirling mass of pain.
Tater just listened, and did his best to comfort me, saying he wished he could do more. I told him he had done so much for me and I was so grateful for his help. He went through something similar during his hike, so he gets how it feels to be left behind.
I had collected myself by the time we got to the parking lot, and I said a quick goodbye because he needed to get to Manchester, and I had to catch trail magic before Spider had to leave at 2pm. It was 9:15 when I started hiking, and 8.4 miles to trail magic.
My pack was full for the first time in a few days, and I had a three day resupply in there, but with a liter of water it only weighed about 23 pounds. I had planned a 15 and two 20s, and depending on my energy levels I would see about trying to hike on the 3rd and make up the rest of the miles (23).
My only concern from there, was how quickly I might fall behind again. I hiked in silence, not wanting to listen to anything but the forest around me and my own thoughts for a while. My body felt decently strong after a short day yesterday, and I made the 2 miles that were relatively flat to Little Rock Pond in 45 minutes.
I realized another thing that I had really upset me was the fact that the last time I had hiked through Vermont I was with Pockets (my ex) the entire time. We hiked every mile together, and I had a lot of really great memories from our time in the state. Little Rock Pond to the end of the White Mountains were particularly strong memories for me.
My times out here with him in 2015 were some of the happiest of my life, so when I got to the pond my heart just hurt even worse, even though the view was stunning. I passed a couple hikers hanging out at the lake, but didn’t stop to chat because I wanted to make good time to see Spider. At least I had that to look forward to to make the day a little better.
After a couple hours in the forest I begins to feel better, especially because I had learned that crying flushes out the emotions from the body. I also often find that it’s the act of separation that is the worst, and when it’s over sometimes it’s easier to cope.
As I was hiking through a gorgeous pine forest, soft pine needles under foot, I ran into Moped and Lady Pants again. It was 2.9 to trail magic and 11:15 or so. I told them where and when it was, which they were definitely happy to hear about.
I booked it as fast as I could, but got momentarily sidetracked when I hit White Rocks. This is an absolutely beautiful and, to me, mystical spot in Vermont. It is a collection of cairns and patterns made out of stones. The last time I was there, Pockets and I had night hiked and came up on it in the middle of the night, having never heard of it or had any idea it was there. That was back when we were using paper guides, the phone app that now shows pictures of landmarks ahead of time.
I made my own little contribution to White Rocks by stacking a few more, and spent a couple minutes there soaking in the energy and the meaning behind it for me. I continued on down to Bully Brook, with some absolutely beautiful, clear Vermont water flowing through.
I crossed Russell Road, and then VT 140, to the parking lot. Spider and Natalie were there with their dog, Oreo, and a southbound section hiker named Research. She headed out after a few, and I sat and ate three pieces of pizza, two donuts, two cookies, two mandarins, and drink a can of soda.
I was there for a little over an hour from 12:30 to 1:40, and it was awesome to hang out with Spider again and to meet Natalie and Oreo. I was super appreciative of the fact that they had come out and done that for me, not only because it was less food I had to carry that day, but also because of what I’ve gone through emotionally in the past few days. Seeing a trail family member from 2015 and 2016 really lifted my spirits.
Moped showed up after a little bit, plus a couple other Long Trail hikers, then Lady Pants shortly before I left. Amazingly, a girl named Allison who works with Spider showed up early on as well, with two dogs that I recognized from the day before.
While Baked Potato and I had been repackaging my resupply, I had seen the two dogs being walked down the sidewalk on the street across from me and wanted to pet them so bad. It was almost unbelievable that those same dogs showed up in the parking lot and I got to meet them, and get lots of kisses from the puppy. It was a type of trail magic that can hardly be quantified, and helped further raise my morale.
I said goodbye to everyone, then climbed up the incline from the parking lot. This incline had a lot of traditional switchbacks, which I am a big fan of. I hiked through fern forests, with chipmunks, squirrels, and birds skittering around in the undergrowth. I was still hiking without music, podcast, or audiobooks, and I was enjoying the sounds of nature for the first time in days.
As I was getting to the top of the 2 mile incline, I felt myself slow down and get really tired. I drive myself up the last .2, then had some electrolytes. Like the day before, it had started to get quite warm and humid in the afternoon.
After another 1.9, I reached Minerva Hinchey Shelter, where I stopped to use the privy and took a 15 minute break to read the logbook and sign my name. I was all in my head again, ruminating and letting my thoughts get the better of me. My OCD had really ramped up.
I was so tempted to just stay at that shelter, but it was 3:45 and I only had 3.7 to go, although there was a very steep down and up through Clarendon Gorge to the shelter. I dragged myself back on the trail, and forced myself to hike, reminding my brain to “embrace the suck”, and tried not to think about how quickly the miles would go by if I had somebody to hike with.
After a couple miles that included a short climb and easy downhill, I got to the Airport Lookout and took a quick break to filter some water and send texts. The view was nice, but I remembered vividly the last time I was there we watched a full moon rise just over the ridge, and it had been breathtaking.
From there it was a steep .7 down a very piney area to the gorge, where a bouncy suspension bridge spanned the water. I saw a couple people swimming down below, and at the parking lot just past (where we’d dropped off the Cult earlier in the day) found some more trail magic.
There were sodas, muffins, rice crispies, and cinnamon buns. I ate a cinnamon bun and grabbed a couple snacks, and scratched a “TY” into the dirt under the sign with my trekking pole.
It was a very steep, very rocky climb up from the gorge, which I was expecting, and it didn’t disappoint. I had done some thinking and processing things in my mind the first couple miles after the last shelter, and that helped a bit. After the airport, I had my music on finally which energized me as well.
I had a moment of panic after the incline when I saw the airport again, but relaxed when I figured it out I was seeing from another ridge. After the beaver bog the other day, I wasn’t wanting to make that mistake again.
It was an easy hike after the view, a quick up and down to Clarendon Shelter. It was 6pm, and I was feeling a little weird rolling up to camp for the first time in at least a couple weeks without my trail family there.
I said hi to a hiker real quick before I set up my tent and sleep stuff, which took 15 minutes. I went to the shelter to eat dinner and met Colin, the first AT SOBO hiker I’d met so far, and Grace, who was doing a section hike.
They were actually really fun to talk to while I ate my couscous and tuna, and learned about Colin’s hike. We exchanged contact info, like Wizard suggested, so I could let him know when I was coming down to do the second half of my hike. He said he’d felt lonely because he hadn’t hiked with anyone since Monson, ME, but was keeping in good spirits.
Grace had done an AT attempt the year before, but had to get off trail after a few hundred miles due to family concerns. She was doing a 150 mile section in 5 days, running/hiking 30 miles per day, which was super impressive.
Moped and Lady Pants arrived about an hour later and hung out as well while they had their dinner. Overall, it had worked out nicely to have some company of both new and familiar faces for the evening. I also met Slow Dance, a NOBO hiker, who passed through to drop Grace off a new toothbrush he’d gotten in town.
I was reminded of the first few weeks of my hike, where it was just me and whoever was around. Doing only 16 miles had felt nice as well, but it was a hell of an emotional roller coaster during the day.
Tomorrow I could do anywhere from a 15 to a 20 mile day, and I was honestly undecided. 20 would get me closer to catching up, but I’d be climbing Killington tomorrow, so I wasn’t sure how I’d feel after that.
My energy levels were low in general, and I was wary of going into total burnout. I knew where I needed to meet Tater on the 3rd to get to Amherst, so I’d see what got me there and kept me in the best level of mental and physical health. That was all I could control for now.