Ver-mud

I am currently in a bed. A plush bed in a cottage with running water and electricity about 11 miles from the trail. We have actually had great luck with our stays the past three days but this is such a needed reprieve from all of our big miles and sleeping in the woods. 

The day after getting into Vermont we took another big 22 mile day largely just because we could. The sun was out but the weather was cool and breezy so we were able to cover ground quickly up to Goddard Shelter high in the mountains (our first shelter over 3,500 ft in a while). 

Overnight it dumped down rain which continued into the morning. When we woke up, Cliffnote, Holler and I looked at each other and, with a look, decided we weren't going out in that mess. The rain was so aggressive on the tin roof of the shelter that it sounded like we were curled up in our sleeping bags directly beneath a waterfall. We all drifted back in and out of sleep until 9:30am when the rain had mostly stopped. We scrambled to pack up and put in some miles before the rain started up again. 

We were unsuccessful. Less than a mile from the shelter the telltale sprinkle started back up again and before we could even think of darting for shelter it was an onslaught. At a point you stop caring how wet and muddy you are because no amount of water could make it any worse so instead if teetering from one exposed rock to the next in the midst of the Appalachian Trail-turned-River you pound right through the water like a kindergartener, relishing in the satisfying splashes you are making and almost enjoying the sickening squish of your shoes in the ankle-deep mud. And it really is ankle deep. 

Trying to forget the rain, and knowing that the forecast called for sun in the afternoon, we kept pushing forward to Stratton Mountain. True to the predictions, as we began our 2,000ft ascent up Stratton the sun came out just enough to dry us slightly and provide us with a stunning view from the fire tower atop the mountain. We relaxed there for a but before more ominous clouds began to roll in and we began to jog down the mountain towards the shelter down the way at Stratton Pond. 

The shelter was a large cabin with wooden bunks that were surprisingly well maintained, thanks to the caretaker at the site (I guess that's what my $5 fee is going to). Something doesn't quite sit well when it comes to paying to sleep in the woods but I do recognize all the work that the trail maintainers put in so I forked over the money. 

The next morning we planned for a short day into Manchester Center, VT. It was cool out and the terrain ahead was flat so we expected to make great time. We expected the mud as well but we weren't prepared. Overnight all of the rain from the previous day had soaked down into the soil and turned it into soft, deep, suck-the-shoes-right-off-your-feet mud. Every so often I would take a step onto what looked like solid ground, only to have my foot submerge up to my ankles in thick, dark sludge. It was pretty brutal but what did I care? I had a brand new pair of shoes waiting for me at the bottom of the hill.

When we got to the parking lot near the road into Manchester we attempted to clean ourselves to no avail. We may have gotten most of the mud off our legs but our shoes still made us look like swamp people that had recently arisen from the bog. Apparently that worked for us, because within seconds of throwing out my thumb a van pulled to the side of the road and let us hop in. Granted we were sitting on top of belt sanders, skill saws and other random power tools but beggars can't be choosers. I had a few Dexter-esque flashes from the mental how-to movie of "How to Dismember a Hiker and Not Get Caught" looking at the array we were sitting on but I tried to push those thoughts from my mind. 

Our driver very kindly stopped by at the Avalanche Motel-turned-Econolodge on the way into town and I sprinted in and was rewarded with a brand new beautiful pair of purple Solomon Synapses (no duct tape required!). These should last me until Katahdin - fingers crossed!

The rest of the afternoon we spent doing laundry (while wearing clothing purchased from the dollar store), eating more pizza than we really needed, resupplying and picking up a few necessities from the outfitter. As we finished up our laundry we saw a few hikers across the way and it turns out that one of them was the other OB (Old and Busted)!! Finally the two OBs have met. He told me that he thought I would look different (more obnoxious? More bitchy?) but we took a bunch of photos to commemorate the moment nonetheless. 

We got a hitch back to the trailhead around 5:00pm so Cliffnote could keep walking. Holler and I, however, had a place to sleep with a bed so we continued our hitch past the trail head, saying goodbye to Cliffnote who we likely will not see again, all the way to South Londonderry where Chloe, a manager at Per Se when I worked there years ago, now owns a beautiful restaurant - SoLo Farm & Table. 

The restaurant itself is beautiful, with rustic wood floors and a bar made from Vermont marble and a comforting, warm feeling that reminded me of Blue Hill at Stone Barns in New York. Every detail seemed to be thought out meticulously but in a way that was laid back and carefree in a way that is so pleasing and relaxing - exactly how you want to feel when you are treating yourself to a nice dinner out.

The grounds were equally gorgeous. The restaurant sits on 3 acres of pristine land a good bit of which is dedicated to farming the produce that SoLo uses in the restaurant. It was so lush and green and vibrant in the late afternoon sun that I couldn't help but think, who would ever leave a place like this? Of all the places to come to raise a family (her son Rafa is maybe the most adorable little boy I have ever seen), this seemed to be utopia. 

After our tour of the property, Holler and I settled into the cottage behind the restaurant and relaxed for the evening. I spent hours on the phone with loved ones, desperately trying to catch up after having had a dead phone since the top of Stratton Mountain (I can barely function without Red Knees, clearly). 

Today we are going for another 20 miler but we shall see given all the mud. I'm a bit tempted to slow my pace to let the Tribe catch up (they are all back in Dalton, MA). I am equally excited, however, to get to the White Mountains so we shall see what wins out.