November 4, 2024.
5.7 mi. |2430′ ele.gain | 3:40 hr.
Forest City > Long Trail > Burrows Trail
After driving across a relatively flat middle of the continent, I finally had an opportunity to get on top of something: Camel’s Hump, Vermont. We visited local friends the night before and they gave me some advice as to which route to take. I had Aaron drive me to the trailhead the next morning. He was feeling ill, so he rested while I geared up to go hiking.
I signed in at the trailhead and started down the suggested route. It was actually down, as the route begins by dropping into the bottom of a gully before shooting back up towards the summit. This trail offered the classic shoulder season New England adventure: muddy rocks, hoarfrost, roots, ice. Every step required a deliberate and precise choice. It demanded my full attention.
There were a few views on the way up, but I opted to keep moving steadily to maintain my body temperature. This kind of hiking invigorates me. I first got into hiking in New England, where the trails could chew you up and spit you out if you didn’t take them seriously. I was not a terribly strong or smart or skilled hiker when I began, but I appreciated and respected the challenge. The mountains are rugged and unrelenting but they are also majestic, beautiful, mysterious. Being back there made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
As I continued my walk, I noticed the shapes and patterns around me. The white rectangles of paint indicating I was on the Appalachian Trail. The rippled texture of the metamorphic rock. The lazy undulations of the surrounding hills. And of course, the shapes and forms of all the ice. Ice pushed up through the soil in shapes like needles. Long sheets of ice covered the trail uniformly. Frozen cascades poured over rocky stairsteps, making it appear that time stood still. Icicles decorated the gaps below rock outcrops.
It was quite chilly and I could hear the wind whipping through the trees. As I approached tree line, I paused to put all my layers on and zip up my hood. Only then was I suited for the final push to the top. I was ready, but not ready. As I emerged from the safety of the trees, it was as if I’d entered a wind tunnel. Immediately I began getting pushed around by the forceful gusts. I steadied myself by walking in a low crouch and putting one hand on the ground to steady myself. With my weight low, I could scurry quickly across the bare rock to the official summit. I did my best to avoid tromping on the alpine vegetation. There were several signs pleading with people to stay off of it, and there were little ropes to highlight that suggestion.
I quickly found myself on the summit, with not a soul in sight. After a quick picture, I took a 360 degree look at the view and found my exit route. It took a long while before I warmed up enough to take off a layer. On my way down, I passed several people huffing and puffing on their way up that they must have wondered how I could be so over dressed.
On the return hike, I usually assume it’s going to be much easier than the way up. Gravity being on my side and all. But it was just as difficult going down. The upper section of the Burrows trail was a slippery ice fall and the lower section was a slimy mud bog. By the time I returned to the trailhead, my brain was tapped out. Luckily, Aaron had a hot beverage waiting for me!
During this brief visit to New England, I hope to revisit some favorite hikes and maybe explore a few new spots too. It’s a tough time of year to plan for since the conditions are so variable and the weather changes rapidly. But I got off to a great start today!