Day twenty-three, Sunday, September 7
Ben’s house on the road. 15 to Camp Corliss
Distance: 11.4 miles (237.5 miles total).
The excitement increases, the end is near!
I couldn’t help but feel a jolt of excitement when I woke up in Ben’s guest room that morning. I thought, “Next time I come back here, barring an unexpected disaster, I will have completed the Long Walk.”
I took a selfie to celebrate the moment.
Standing in the guest bedroom of Ben’s house. (I detect “hiker ribs” showing).
After a big breakfast, the four members of Ben’s family and I piled into his minivan and headed off to return to where I had left off. At 8:30 we enjoyed a round of goodbye hugs and I was on my way.
Crossing the Lamoille River
The second lowest point on the Long Trail, at 500 feet above sea level, is the Lamoille River. This valley was about a half mile from the road. I walked under a cloudy sky. It looked likely to remain cloudy, but a little rain was also possible. Targeting Camp Corliss for the night, I had a reasonable day ahead of me, the highest elevation being Laraway Mountain at 2790′. While it’s not a lot of elevation, it was still 2,200 feet higher than where I was starting.
The Lamoille River under cloudy fog
When I got there, I was surprised at how big the Lamoille River was. The footbridge crossing was second only to the Winooski crossing, and I took a couple of pictures of the river and bridge.
The Bridge over the Lamoille River (sung with “Colonel Bogey’s March”)
Reflections on roots and fungi
On the other side I began to ascend moderately, enjoying some of the views along the trail. As I did so, I thought about some of my experiences.
For example, I have complained a lot about road roots. The problem with roots is that they are rounded and often slippery for quite some time after it has rained. This contrasts with rocks that tend to dry quickly when it stops raining. As a result, I sometimes compared walking on roots to walking on ball bearings. I would often forget how treacherous they were and take a reckless, confident step, only to be forced to quickly regain my balance! I was talking to myself as I walked: «Don’t trust the roots. Roots are bad! Don’t trust the roots.» Here is an example I found that morning of a densely intertwined root system.
Much of the Long Trail looked like this, except the roots were wet!
Another feature I have mentioned is the wide range of different mushrooms on the Long Trail. Almost every day I encountered a different species that fascinated me. This is the one I found this morning, growing densely on the branch of a birch tree.
Seeing the variety of life is one of the great joys of hiking!
While I entertained these thoughts, I reached Prospect Rock and realized that I had climbed more than I thought. But with the cloudy sky, the views were less than I expected and I continued on.
A round milestone
The next milestone was the summit of Roundtop Mountain. I didn’t realize until I got there that I was less than 50 miles away from the border. I felt like I could smell Canada! (But I couldn’t tell you what it smelled like…)
Beyond the summit was Roundtop Shelter, but with “miles to go” I pressed on.
Now the trail descended, until I emerged on Plot Road. To my surprise, there was activity along the way. Apparently a major bike race was expected at that pass later in the morning. Volunteers were setting up cones and other means to keep spectators (if any?) away from the contestants.
Find lost friends
The Long Trail continued a couple hundred yards further east along Plot Road, and as I approached that curve, I recognized some familiar faces. The Freight Train, Tripper, and Wildflowers were there! It was great to see them and very surprising.
I think I mentioned that Freight Train and Tripper, at least, are much faster than me. In fact, I learned that they compete together in ultramarathons, which makes them MUCH faster than me, if you will. On this path, however, they were on par with Wildflowers (with whom they worked this summer on a kind of wilderness camp). However, she is also faster than me, even if just a little.
So how did I keep catching up with them? It seemed like all my Zero (2) days should have left me far behind. The trick was that they were taking MORE Zeros than me. They would go into town to resupply (or have a few beers), meet someone, and stay another day. At least, that’s the best explanation I could find.
That day, in fact, they were returning from somewhere when I met them on Port Road. We leave together. Before long they had left me behind and I assumed I would never see them again.
Classic Vermont: Maple Sap!
The path went up through the forest, but not steeply. On the way up there were some open meadows and I admired the yellow wildflowers growing there.
Up ahead I saw a sign warning hikers that this was private land. He specified that we must respect the owner’s economic activity “such as the collection of maple sap and the extraction of wood.”
Appreciate the hiking easement…
Maple syrup is an iconic Vermont product. State law requires every tourist visiting Vermont to purchase at least three maple syrup products. (Just kidding, but it sure feels that way!) I had seen maples being tapped individually for their sap. However, I had never seen an entire forest of trees, held together by tubes, collecting sap on an industrial scale!
Throughout the forest there were plastic tubes, some hanging in the air, others attached to tree trunks, presumably all collected at various central collection sites. In many cases I could walk right under them, but sometimes I was forced to crouch down to avoid my backpack and I hitting the pipes. It was impressive, but certainly detracted from any feeling that I was in a natural wilderness.
…but imagine a forest full of these things!
Don’t get me wrong, I thank the owner for allowing the Long Trail to pass through there. But if an alternative route were ever available, I would support its selection.
Lone Wolf finally meets a tragedy
Once I left the miles of tubule behind, I crested a ridge and began descending toward Codding Hollow. I was starting to get hungry when I saw a group of hikers stopped up ahead. Yes, it was Freight Train, Tripper, Wildflowers and a new guy who looked very young. In fact, they were eating and waiting for me. It was then that I realized they were informally admitting me onto their tram. I sat and had lunch with them.
«Tramily» is a combination word that combines «trail» and «family.» It represents a group of people united (loosely or closely) by their common experience on the road. In this case I think we all estimated that we were four days away from the end. We figured we could share camps the rest of the way. It made sense to recognize this, rather than pretend to surprise each other every day when we ended up at the same camp.
In my case I was quite old, with different life experiences, so my connection with them had a lot to do with this particular path. On the contrary, three of them had spent much of the summer working together. As you can imagine, their bonds were stronger than mine, but we were still close.
Back on the trail after lunch
After lunch, I headed out first and crossed the dirt road to Codding Hollow. On the side of the road, there was an abandoned car in the early stages of rot and rust. Beyond that I faced a steep uphill climb.
Think: not many years ago, some proud soul often drove away with this car, like new…
I pushed myself up the hill, not wanting to be passed right after lunch. However, I became disoriented on a very steep trail that turned out not to be the Long Path. A couple of them followed me in this mistake. By the time we all discovered the right path, they were already walking ahead of me. That was good. I didn’t particularly want hiking company and knew we would all meet again at Corliss Camp that night anyway.
The cliff, the ridge and then the summit
At first there were somewhat neglected forest roads that were fairly easy to navigate. Over time it became more difficult and it started to rain lightly from time to time. In the forest it was difficult to tell how far the summit was, until I emerged on a flat spot under a steep cliff. Water ran off the cliff in ever-larger rivulets as I walked along the base. It was quite dramatic as the trail continued along the base of the cliff.
If you look ahead, you can see the path that runs along the base of the cliff.
I was even inspired to record a little video on the cliff.
Panoramic view of the cliff
Eventually the trail found a way up and I reached Laraway Lookout. The views there were stunning. He could see rain in the distant clouds. You could also look back and still see Mount Mansfield, but now from a different angle.
The «Chin», the highest point in Vermont, is on the right.
I felt like I was on top, but that wasn’t the case. But I was at the top. It was extremely wet and swampy up there, but the Long Trail crews had a solution for that. They are called «bumps.»
These were features along the Long Trail that I hadn’t really commented on before, but they were prevalent at the top of Laraway Summit. A team had reached there and placed various types of log boards so that hikers could walk on them, instead of sinking in the mud or trying to avoid puddles. When new, as they were, punches are really handy and useful. The problem is that they require maintenance. Otherwise, as they rot, they expose huge twisted nails that are more dangerous than useful.
I’m sorry I didn’t take a picture of Laraway’s beautiful new punches, but this is what happens if they rot and aren’t maintained!
looking for elk
I finally reached the true summit of Laraway and began descending in the intermittent rain. Camp Corliss was a little less than three miles away and I began to hope I would see a moose. I was disappointed that I didn’t see any large animals along the way: no moose or bear. Even deer were rare and I generally did not see them; I just heard them walking away from me through the brush.
Despite the large amount of «evidence» of moose, I did not see any moose.
Lots of moose testing!
Give another trail name
Arriving at Corliss camp, the tram was there and I set up inside the shelter. While I was eating my cold dinner, I started chatting with the fourth boy, the one who looked very young. It turned out he was an aerospace engineer working for NASA on launch propulsion or some such problem. A true rocket scientist who does not deceive! He commented that he was close to the finish line and did not yet have the name of the trail. I replied that it seemed obvious to me. It should be «Rocket Man!»
At the time he seemed skeptical. I said, «Hey, it’ll be your name, you should be able to accept it. Just think about it.»
That’s what he did. The next morning, he approached me. «I’ve decided I like it. Yes! I’m ‘Rocket Man’!»
That was the second trail name I gave during my time on the trail.
Meanwhile, it was pretty cold that night even in the shelter and I was glad I bought the sleeping bag liner. Instead of lying awake with my teeth chattering, I slept soundly.
