Charlie Stein's Photoblog

Monday: I had initially hoped that we would be able to climb the five highest peaks on our first visit to Vermont, but we had to cut short our hike at Camel’s Hump (third highest peak) due to rain and hail. We then successfully climbed Killington Peak (second highest) and Mount Mansfield (highest peak), but Batya’s new boots were causing her foot pain, so we had to abandon plans for a hike to Mount Ellen and Mount Abraham (fourth and fifth highest) and find an easier hike. [Mount Ellen shows the same elevation as Camel’s Hump, so I’m not sure why it’s listed as fourth highest instead of tied for third. Perhaps Camel’s Hump is a few inches higher.]

Our backup hike was to climb Laraway Mountain, a hike of only 4.8 miles round-trip, climbing and descending about 1600′. From Highway 109, one follows Codding Hollow Road to a parking area at 44.708, -72.713 (or about 0.2 miles further down the road, at 44.708, -72.710, though this requires driving over a rough patch of road). Once again my GPS had trouble directing me there. When I typed in the coordinates, it led me to Highway 109, but then passed Codding Hollow Road and directed me on Laraway Mountain Road and would have had me driving through streams, etc., so we backtracked to Highway 109 and made sure to turn onto Codding Hollow Road. From the second parking area, follow the Long Trail north.

11:47 a.m.: The trail starts at around 1200′ elevation and immediately crosses Codding Brook, and then begins climbing Laraway Mountain. There are a few small streams along the way:

Stream

A few areas of the trail are rocky or wet, but for the most part the terrain is easy. Of course, as I mentioned, there is a climb of 1600′, so the trail is not flat.

Rocky section of the Long Trail

Parts of the trail were clearly an old logging trail, while other parts were footpaths. The transition points from one to another were not always clear.

Old logging road

A fallen tree:

Fallen tree

1:24 p.m.: One distinctive feature of this section of the Long Trail is a cliff that extends 100 yards or more. The trail passes right beside it, and it’s difficult to get a photograph that properly presents it:

Cliff

Cliff

Cliff

The trail then runs along a streambed. It is quite deep in places, but perhaps this is through eons of erosion, and there is never deep water in it.

Streambed

Batya posed by the side of the streambed:

Batya at side of streambed

2:01 p.m.: We soon came to the highlight of the hike, the Laraway Lookout, which afforded us with about a 180-degree view. Looking southwest, Mount Mansfield is about 13 miles away:

View from Laraway Lookout

My zoom lens brought Mount Mansfield into closer view. This isn’t the best angle to discern features of a face, though even the best angles require much imagination to identify a forehead, nose, lips, chin, and Adam’s apple:

Mount Mansfield from Laraway Lookout

View toward the west:

View from Laraway Lookout

While the trail wasn’t exactly crowded, we also didn’t have it all to ourselves, even though this was a workday. One couple, who live nearby, visited Laraway Lookout while we were having lunch there, and agreed to take our photo:

Charlie and Batya at Laraway Lookout

After spending 45 minutes at the lookout, we pushed onward toward the summit, 0.4 miles further and 100′ higher.

3:09 p.m.: There were even wet areas up here, with logs or rough timber set down as puncheon:

Batya on Puncheon

3:14 p.m.: At 2796′, Laraway Mountain is far from the tallest of peaks in Vermont, but it still made for a nice hike.  The summit features a geodetic survey marker and sign:

Survey marker at summit

The sign says 2790′ elevation, but the datasheet of the National Geodetic Survey says 2796′.

Sign at summit

We then retraced our steps to the south. Here Batya hikes by the cliff:

Hiking past cliff

5:14 p.m.: We completed the hike, returning to the parking area. There were wildflowers at the end of the hike, growing near Codding Brook:

Wildflowers

After this hike, we drove back to Stowe. We noticed a small park very close to the hotel, and pulled in to investigate. The park gave us access to the Stowe Recreation Path, a hiking/biking path.

6:34 p.m.: We walked along the path for a while, which passed by a corn maze owned by Percy Farm. The maze was already closed for the day, but I marveled at the fact that we had driven to the eastern part of the state to visit a corn maze there, when there was one within a mile or two of our hotel:

Percy Farm corn maze

The Percy Farm also had two pens, one with two baby calves, and one with two goats. If we had only had a quarter, we could have bought some pellets of food from a dispenser at the above corn maze admission booth. As we didn’t have a quarter, we fed the goats a few blades of green grass that had been just outside their reach:

Batya feeds goats

The pathway included this sign (with two misspelled words). I don’t know if there are any beavers in the area, but if there are, I am fairly confident that they cannot read. Therefore, I do not know the purpose of the sign. A search online does not reveal any proof that there is a Stowe Rodent Regulation Board. I guess someone was just having fun.

Anti-beaver sign

Tuesday: Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and we had to leave Vermont behind. We don’t know if we’d enjoy the state in the winter, but it was fantastic in the summer, and we hope to see it again, perhaps to reach the summit of Camel’s Hump (without rain and hail), and to hike other mountains in the state.

On the way home, we stopped in Massachusetts at the Yankee Candle Company‘s flagship store:

Exterior of Yankee Candle Factory

We spent an hour or so inside, admiring the many sizes, shapes, and scents of the candles:

Batya selects candles

Afterward, we continued our drive home, stopping in Hartford to visit my mom’s cousin Mickey, and then continuing back to New York.

Friday: We decided to tackle Mount Mansfield, which at 4,393′ is the highest point in Vermont. The mountain is only about a ten minute drive from Stowe.

10:56 a.m.: We parked at the Gondola Base Lodge, at around 1,500′ elevation.

Gondola lift

11:00 a.m.: We quickly found the trailhead for the Haselton Trail and began our ascent.

Haselton Trail

11:30 a.m.: It was a beautiful day for hiking.

Haselton Trail

11:32 a.m.: A series of zip-lines had just been put into service at Mt. Mansfield, and at this point in our hike the trail passed directly beneath the parallel twin wires of the zip-line. The lines ran to a very large nearby platform, where that zip-line ended and the next began. While I’m sure the zip-line is quite fun, it is somewhat disconcerting to be enjoying a hike in nature and then to suddenly hear the singing of a wire cable, accompanying by the excited screams of riders.

11:38 a.m.: We crossed a tiny stream of water, though the rocks suggested that at times there was more water passing there:

Rocky stream crossing

11:48 a.m.: A tree grew around a large rock:

Tree growing around a large rock

Haselton Trail

12:01 p.m.: The trail briefly broke into the clear, crossing an unmarked service road. However, we crossed the road and re-entered the woods.

12:35 p.m.: The trail again left the trees, climbing adjacent to a ski slope, now green.

12:41 p.m.: The ski slope in summer:

Ski slope in summer

12:54 p.m.:

Batya climbs the ski slope

Ski slope in summer

1:10 p.m.: We spent a half hour climbing the ski slope. It would probably only take a skier a minute or two to descend that distance in the winter:

Ski slope in summer

After 1.6 miles, we reached the auto toll road, at 3,100′. This is a 4.5-mile road for people who prefer to drive up to the mountain. It begins south of the gondola base, from a point a little lower on the mountain, at 1,302′ elevation. The toll seemed insanely expensive to Batya and myself, but perhaps we are overly frugal. The charge is $19 for a car (and its driver), with an additional $6 for each passenger.

We followed the auto toll road for 0.5 miles, climbing another 600′ to the road’s terminus at a parking lot at around 3,700′ elevation. At this point we had been hiking for over two hours and had only covered 2.1 miles, a very slow pace, though that included an elevation gain of about 2,200′. We sat on a large rock and ate a leisurely lunch.

Adjacent to the parking lot was a small visitor’s center, manned (or womanned) by volunteers from the Green Mountain Club. In addition to providing directions and information, the volunteers sought to educate visitors to avoid the alpine tundra at the high elevations of the mountain.

The ridgeline of Mt. Mansfield has a number of high spots, traversed by the Long Trail. When viewed from the east or west (and a few miles away), the mountain is said to resemble a human profile (facing the sky). These peaks are referred to as the forehead, nose, lips, chin, and Adam’s apple. However, in this particular “face” it is not the nose that is the highest point, but the chin. The visitor’s center is just north of the nose, and about 100-150′ below it. We did not climb to the nose, though, instead turning south and climbing toward the chin.

2:09 p.m.: We turned north toward the summit of the “chin,” 1.4 miles away and still about 700′ in elevation higher:

Long Trail sign

The Long Trail provided beautiful scenery on Mt. Mansfield:

Panorama

As discussed, we followed the Haselton Trail part of the way up the mountain, and then the Long Trail. The Long Trail itself can be followed all the way up the mountain, either from the south or the north, and there are also other trails that join the Long Trail, from both the east and west of the mountain ridge.

2:18 p.m.: I took a 360-degree panorama from a spot still fairly close to the “nose”:

360-degree panorama

2:42 p.m.: We continued hiking north on the Long Trail, growing closer to the “chin”:

Chin of Mount Mansfield

Batya scrambling toward the top:

Batya scrambling toward the summit

2:54 p.m.: Getting close to the top:

Chin of Mount Mansfield

. . . closer . . .

Chin of Mount Mansfield

3:15 p.m.: Made it to the top! After climbing about 2,900′ over the course of 2.7 miles, we reached the summit. Here’s another 360-degree panorama, this one from the “chin” of Mt. Mansfield, the highest point in Vermont:

360-degree panorama from the summit

Batya at the highest point of Vermont:

Batya at the summit

Charlie at the summit:

Charlie at the summit

Together (taken by a kind stranger with my cell phone):

Charlie and Batya at the highest point in Vermont

3:38 p.m.: We began our descent:

Descending from the Summit

I had originally planned to take the Long Path north from the summit, however the Green Mountain Club had another volunteer posted at the summit (to give directions, answer questions and particularly to ask people to avoid walking on the alpine tundra). She said that the section of the Long Path immediately north of the summit was exposed and not a good route for anyone who might be nervous about heights. She instead recommended that we backtrack a short distance north on the Long Trail and then turn onto the Profanity Trail. Batya asked the guide why the trail had been given such a name, and the guide thought that because it was a trail to be used in case of bad weather (being less exposed and thus less a lightning risk), the bad weather might invoke profanity. We developed our own theory, as the short trail was pretty much a non-stop scramble requiring very slow going.

3:58 p.m.: I somehow tripped over this tree root, falling . . .

Cruel tree root on the Profanity Trail

. . . and tearing a hole in one of my treasured hiking pants, with which I have been on so many adventures. For a while I couldn’t find any manufacturers of cotton/poly pants in my inseam (and without the zip-off lower leg convertible feature). Now they seem to be available once again from Lands End, though reviewers allege that they aren’t always true-to-size, so I am a bit afraid to order a pair. Luckily, the damage was mostly confined to the pants, though I also did have a superficial cut on my leg to match the minor cut that my finger had received while replacing a brake light in my car days earlier.

Torn hiking pants

Profanity Trail

4:32 p.m.: We finally reached the bottom of the hated Profanity Trail:

Bottom of the Profanity Trail

4:49 p.m.: At this point, we rejoined the Long Trail heading north, well clear of the exposed area that the guide had suggested we avoid. There were plenty of trees now, so it was no longer exposed, but it was still steep and required yet more scrambling. So while we were clear of the Profanity Trail, the scrambling continued unabated.

Scrambling down the Long Trail

6:44 p.m.: The Long Trail finally reached the road, about 0.6 miles north of the Gondola station. It only took us a few minutes from this point to return to the station’s parking lot, where we had left the car. The loop was probably only 7 miles or less, though the 2,900′ in elevation gain was impressive, with beautiful views.

The hike had taken longer than we had anticipated, with the extensive scrambling and with Batya still suffering some discomfort from an ill-fitting boot. Still, it was a great day and a great hike!

We made it back to the hotel about 45 minutes before the start of our Sabbath. We just relaxed at the hotel, though we were able to enjoy a parade of classic cars that drove by our hotel on Saturday afternoon. Stowe hosts a classic car show every year, and the parade route was very convenient for us.

Sunday: Shelburne Museum and Teddy Bears

Thursday: We drove south to hike at Killington Peak, which at 4,229′ elevation is the second highest mountain in Vermont.

Whereas Camel’s Hump–which we had attempted to hike earlier in the week–is undeveloped, Killington has a restaurant at the summit, with a gondola leading there. I would prefer to climb peaks that don’t have an easier way to the summit. Maybe that’s a bit of snobbery, as I think that the beautiful view should be restricted to those who choose to climb to the top as I am doing. Maybe I’m also influenced by a bit of laziness, thinking, “Why am I climbing this peak when I could instead drive or ride to the top?” In any event, I have enjoyed a number of hikes even though there were alternate ways to the peak, and we set out this day to climb Killington even though we knew that we would encounter non-hikers there.

Our hike primarily followed the Bucklin Trail, which began on Wheelerville Road, one of the dirt roads that I learned is fairly common in Vermont. Once again, my GPS took a circuitous route to the trailhead, but we got there.

11:44 a.m.: At the first the Bucklin Trail was perfectly level:

Bucklin Trail trailhead

12:02 p.m.: However, it soon began gaining in elevation:

Bucklin Trail

1:06 p.m.: A tree with a significant hollow provided a good prop:

Batya in front of hollow tree

The red elderberry, Sambucus racemosa, is poisonous when raw but supposedly edible when cooked. I think I’ll pass.

Red elderberry

Red elderberry

2:45 p.m.: The Bucklin Trail ended and we turned right (south) onto the Long Trail. After 0.2 miles, we reached the Cooper Lodge, erected by the Green Mountain Club.

Cooper Lodge

From the Cooper Lodge, the Long Trail continued south, but we instead turned east onto the Killington Spur Trail, which led 0.2 miles to the summit of Killington Peak:

Signpost

This 0.2 miles included some scrambling, though it wasn’t too taxing:

Killington Spur Trail

I remembered to look back and was rewarded with a nice view:

Scenery from the Killington Spur Trail

2:57 p.m.: Batya shows off her scrambling abilities:

Scrambling up the Killington Spur Trail

Scrambling up the Killington Spur Trail

3:02 p.m.: We reached the summit, and it provided a pretty view!

Panorama from the summit

Another panorama from the summit:

Panorama from the summit

3:18 p.m.: Batya took a photo with my cell phone, which allowed me to upload a report of our adventure to Facebook:

Charlie at the summit

3:29 p.m.: A small trail led us off the bare rock and through a forested area, descending a bit:

Forested area between summit and gondola terminal

We soon reached the gondola terminal and a restaurant, which included restrooms with running water.

3:54 p.m.: From outside the restaurant, I photographed another series of photographs that I was later able to turn into this panorama:

Panorama from restaurant

4:11 p.m.: We returned to the summit and then began our descent on the spur trail, retracing our steps:

Descending the Killington Spur Trail

I did not see Killington Peak listed as one of the alpine tundra regions of Vermont, but the summit itself was bare rock, and just below the summit were trees that were quite short in stature:

Pine

A last view of the surrounding countryside, as we began our descent:

Scenery from Killington Spur Trail

The total hike was around 7 miles, with an elevation gain of 2,350′. For Killington Peak, it’s well worth skipping the gondola and instead hiking to the top on the Bucklin Trail.

Next: We climb Mount Mansfield, the highest point in Vermont!

On Sunday, August 2, we drove up to Stowe, Vermont for a ten-day vacation (eight full days in Vermont and two travel days). We checked into the Stowe Motel & Snowdrift, with Stowe being a popular ski resort that is also pleasant to visit during other times of the year.

I had planned to combine four hikes with other activities, thinking we would alternate by hiking one day and doing something else the next day. As we haven’t been hiking much lately, Batya suggested that I find hikes that were moderate in nature. I agreed, but after some research decided that we should attempt to climb the five tallest peaks in Vermont. I don’t recall if I mentioned that to Batya, but the five tallest peaks in Vermont range from 4,000′ to 4,400′, and the prominence of each peak is significantly less than that, so it’s not as though we were climbing 14,000′ peaks in Colorado.

Monday: For the first hike, I suggested Camel’s Hump, the third-highest mountain in the state, with a peak at 4,083′. Camel’s Hump is named for its distinctive profile, and is perhaps the most famous mountain in the state, being depicted on the state quarter. Its peak is undeveloped, unlike the 1st and 2nd highest peaks, which can be reached by ski lift or gondola.

I learned or was reminded of a number of things from this hike. One is that Vermont has many dirt roads, and that a number of the entrances (or at least trailheads) to hikes in their parks, including important state parks, are reached via dirt roads. This was the case with Camel’s Hump State Park, as the trailhead I had selected (for the Monroe Trail) is reached via a few miles of dirt roads, namely the River Road (parallel to the Winooski River that is north of the park), Camel’s Hump Road, and Ridley Brook Road.

The next thing that I learned (or was reminded of) was that GPS devices don’t always make the best choices. Driving south from Stowe on Route 100, we passed over I-89 and entered Waterbury, with the GPS then directing us clockwise around a traffic circle, northwest on U.S. Route 2 for almost ten miles to Cochrane Road, south across the Winooski River, then southeast for six miles on Duxbury Rd and River Road until reaching the turnoff to Camel’s Hump Road. Instead of that lovely 16 mile drive, the GPS should have directed me to continue around the traffic circle, through a few blocks of Waterbury, across another the river via the Winooski Street Bridge, and then four miles northwest on River Road to Camel’s Hump Road. So the GPS took us 12 miles out of the way.

Anyway, we finally arrived to the Lower Monroe parking lot, at around 1400′ elevation, and began our hike. The trailhead included the typical selection of maps and other data:

Trailhead kiosk

A sign-in box included a sign that a bear had been frequenting the area. We didn’t merit seeing the bear on our hike, though:

Bear warning sign

While the hike actually began below the shoulder of Camel’s Hump, the Monroe Trail began climbing in elevation immediately. It also started out as a warm day, so I was moving slowly. We also had a late start, whereas my preference would always be to start early.

Monroe Trail

A small bridge on the Monroe Trail:

Small bridge on the Monroe Trail

Camel’s Hump is part of the Green Mountain Range, and the verdant nature of the trail explains how the mountains got the name:

Greenery

The trail crossed a few small streams:

Rocks in Streambed

Clouds began to roll overhead, and I appreciated the accompanying drop in temperature. The nature of the trail changed, as it had initially been dirt, whereas we began encountering many areas with flat rock, as well as rocks that required scrambling:

Batya admires a flat rock

Unfortunately, before we could reach the peak, the clouds grew darker, and finally it started pouring. Not only pouring, but we were also pelted with hail. Another thing that I learned (or was reminded of) was that when the forecast calls for rain, it is prudent to bring rain gear. Unfortunately, our rain gear was back at the hotel.

We moved a few feet from the trail and tried huddling under tree cover, which didn’t help much. I remembered that I had an emergency mylar blanket in my backpack, and pulled that out. It turns out that it takes a while to unfold those. It also turns out that they aren’t quite big enough for two people. Somehow, we managed to huddle under that for a few minutes, until the rain and hail subsided.

At this point, we were soaked and not very comfortable. We also weren’t sure whether the storm was over and was passing, or whether it would be continuing. We were conscious of the fact that it might not be prudent to continue to the peak of a mountain if there was an elevated risk of lightning. Therefore, we reluctantly decided to abandon this hike.

The Monroe Trail is only supposed to be 3.1 miles, and the Department of Forests map calls it moderately difficult. I’m not sure how high we climbed, but I would estimate about 2 miles, quitting about 1 mile below the top.

We began moving downhill, now moving much more cautiously over the flat stone of the trail, as it was now wet and perhaps slippery in parts. Batya kept the mylar blanket wrapped around herself, either for warmth or as a fashion statement:

Hiking slowly on wet rock

Back at the trailhead, we briefly stopped at a memorial to airman who were killed and injured when their B-24 Liberator crashed on the mountain in 1944. My photo didn’t turn out well.

A stranger memorial was a graveyard for the namesake of the Monroe Trail, Will Monroe, his sister Catherine, and quite a few of Will’s dogs — there were a few other tombstones of dogs that weren’t in this photo:

Tombstones

The first thing I did after returning to the hotel room was to put my raingear in my backpack. It was a nice outing, but I was disappointed that we hadn’t made it to the peak, especially since I had set a goal of climbing the highest five peaks in the Vermont.

Next: We get lost in a corn maze