Leaving the Appalachian Trail Behind – Long Trail Day Nine

Day nine, Sunday, August 24

Cooper Lodge (Killington) to Rolston Rest Shelter.

Distance: 11.3 miles (112.8 miles total).

Cloudy and rainy at the top of Killington

If all went well, this would be a historic day. Yesterday I had crossed the 100 mile mark, but this one was bigger. Today I will pass by «Maine Junction». That’s where Appalachian Trail hikers turn east toward Mount Katahdin and Long Trail hikers continue north toward the Canadian border. I expected the number of people on the road to be considerably less after this split.

I had missed the Killington sunset the night before. This morning, between the cold and the cloudy sky, I didn’t bother going up to see the sunrise either. Was he lazy? Or wise? Well, later that day, a hiker showed me a sunrise photo he had taken that was pretty impressive. So… lazy!

With rain in the forecast I thought I’d better enjoy the cloudy skies before it got worse. I packed up and headed to the junction of Route 4. Along the way I passed Snowden Peak, Ram’s Head, and Pico Peak, but overall it was dropping from just below Killington Summit (4,235′) to the highway junction at just under 2,000′ elevation, a long way down.

Warning received: the road ahead is more difficult!

Along the way I met two southbound Long Trail hikers and asked them about conditions ahead. They were not shy in their efforts to scare me. They said that the North was a lot Stronger, and he pointed to the bent stick one carried and the single stick the other had, having broken the pair. They said the trail was narrower, much more overgrown, and had a lot of blowdowns (fallen trees along the trail). With the two mishaps I had experienced on the “easy” part of the trail, none of this boosted my confidence. But I’m a stubborn guy and none of their scare tactics dissuaded me from continuing either!

Sherburne Pass on Route 4, just north of Killington Peak, is a place where many hikers go off trail. For one thing, it’s where the Long Trail Lodge is located, an iconic stop for both Long Trail and Appalachian hikers. They even offer transportation to and from the trail. In Killington (town, not peak) there are also many places for hikers to purchase supplies.

Despite (or because of?) these many attractions, I decided to simply cross Route 4 and continue north toward Maine Junction without stopping. It was barely a mile after the road junction.

Meet a friend

As I descended through intermittent rain, I received a text from Pebbles. He had strayed from the trail and was now returning to continue along the Appalachian Trail to the New Hampshire border. He wondered if we could meet at Maine Junction before we went our separate ways. I thanked him, but pointed out that he had much further to go and would probably be late. I hoped we could meet, but I didn’t want to keep her waiting for me.

When I finally hit the road, I was excited. In just one mile, I would be separating myself from all the AT hikers! However, my excitement doubled when I saw a familiar figure on the road. Pebbles had been waiting for me!

It was great to see her and we had a good reunion. Together we walked the rest of the distance to the Maine Crossing, where the paths diverge. There we set up a picnic area to have a farewell lunch. Knowing he would probably run into me, I had bought some new supplies which were great to have. He gave me a real fresh banana because he could take the peel. How is that? That same afternoon I was going to be at a state park with trash cans.

He also brought fresh blueberries. I was very grateful and grateful and was devouring all of this as the rain began to fall, lightly at first and then harder. We talked a little more about her and her husband’s aviation plans, and I encouraged them both to come visit us in Washington state.

First test of the “pure” long trail

Then it was time to say goodbye and also put on our rain gear. I wished her well and she wished the same for me as she headed east, carrying my banana peel, and I headed north, no longer walking the AT, but just the Long Trail.

Just a half mile after Maine Junction I passed the Tucker Johnson Shelter. Because it is so close, it is actually listed as an Appalachian Trail refuge even though it is on the Long Trail. Perhaps that is why the road to the shelter was smooth and winding.

After the shelter, however, the brush got a little closer to the trail and I encountered several drops. The warning he had received may have been exaggerated, but it was not unfounded.

Meeting groups in the desert

As I continued walking through the rain, I encountered three more groups of hikers.

At first I was quite worried about the first group. I asked them who they were and they told me they were «tough.» I wondered if they were carrying switchblades, baseball bats, or something worse! Further conversation revealed that they were actually Tufts University students and not «Toughs» at all. That was a relief! As before, the pattern was ten incoming first-year students with two upperclass leaders.

The next group was the second Yalies squad. If you read my previous blog post, you know that the first group was instrumental in healing me when I had a bad fall. When I told this group what happened, they asked me who was leading the other group. I responded to Leila and Andrew and their leader let out a shout of joy: «Leila is my best friend!»

I asked him to convey (again) my gratitude and to tell Leila and Andrew that I had recovered and was fine.

Lecturing my Harvard students

Before meeting the third and final group of students, a young man surprised me on the path by moving very quickly. He greeted me warmly as I passed and agreed that we would meet shortly at Rolston Rest Selter, as it was our common destination.

At the shelter, the third group, this time from Harvard, was huddled like miserable wet rats inside the structure with all their personal gear. My new young friend was already there with them.

Now, as individuals, these people had as much right to shelter as us two lone hikers. However, as a clusterthe rules were different and they were supposed to camp under their own tarps and No use the shelter. The leaders were trying to set up tarps to sleep in the rain, while their charges huddled in the shelter with their wet raincoats and muddy boots.

It was a unique opportunity to give a dozen Harvard students a lesson in hiking etiquette. I waited inside the shelter with my new friend until the next student tried to enter to get something out of his backpack. Then I said, «Stop!»

«See this shelter? To you this may look like a rough wooden shed that gives you a dry place out of the rain. However, let me tell you what it is to me. To me, this is my living room and my bedroom. Now, would you walk into your mother’s clean living room in wet clothes and dirty boots?»

I could see looks of perplexity on some faces and a faint light appearing on others.

«So I’ll tell you what. From now on, no one will come in here with muddy boots. You can hang your legs over the side with boots, but you can’t come in here. Instead, one of you can take off your boots and come in here with socks. You can get the equipment that you all have piled up in my living room and distribute it as needed.»

With that I pointed to the person seeking to enter: «You. Come in now, but take off your boots first.»

That way, I set the ground rules. Maybe they thought I was a complete jerk, but I didn’t care. If one or two of them had learned something about respecting others’ space, then it was worth being considered a jerk.

Get to name and know right now

Soon the tarps were put up, the various students were assigned to their dormitories, and the shelter was emptied. I was tempted to make them sweep up their own mud, but in the end I gave in. I swept the shelter myself.

My new friend turned out to be an interesting young man. When I asked him his name, he responded «Russell, right now.» It meant that I didn’t have the name of the trail yet. But I jumped on his answer. «That’s it! Your route name should be ‘Right Now’!»

He seemed skeptical, but after thinking critically for a while, he agreed. I had given it my first trail name.

Right now he was just 18 years old. He was taking a gap year after graduating high school. He worked at a wilderness experience center and had embarked on a two-hundred-kilometer snowshoe trip the previous winter. His father was a carpenter in Montpelier, the capital of Vermont. Right Now was also the only other cold bather I encountered along the way. Like me, he wasn’t using a stove or any type of burner to heat his food along the way. He was rehydrating his meals with cold water. Despite the 50-year age difference, we got along very well.

Sleeping while the party continued…

It became night, the rain now coming down in short showers, and Right Now and I ate our cold dinners. The shelter was clean (thanks to me) and we prepared for the night. But…

The next day, the Harvard team was going to conclude their wilderness adventures, ride the bus to Harvard, and begin their college careers. You can guess that this was a cause for real celebration. It was a historic moment, an important transition in their young lives. So, of course, they celebrated.

Despite my solid reputation as a jerk, I actually sympathized with their desire to celebrate and didn’t try to dampen the party. Instead, I chatted with Right Now until my eyelids grew heavy. Then, as the revelry continued well into the night, I fell asleep.