1,705 Miles: Rutland, Vermont
Officially less than 500 miles to go!
Hey y’all! Excitedly shooting out this newsletter from a library in Rutland, Vermont less than a day after I officially hit the 1,700 mile mark and with less than 500 miles to go!
At this point in the hike, I feel that I could set up my tent in my sleep, resupplying is an efficent run to the grocery store where I know exactly what I’ll eat for snacks and meals for the next few days, and without my backpack on I feel like I’ve lost an organ. Over the last ~1700 miles or so, I’ve somehow grown tired of peanut butter (something that I never thought was possible!) and yet somehow can still stomach instant oatmeal packets (by my estimates I’ve consumed roughly 330 packets by now!).
After my last update, I continued to make my way through New York, which was perhaps as expected, a quirky, eventful patch of trail. As much of the trail is around an hour and a half trip from New York City, every weekend was punctuated by day hikers with light packs who stopped abruply in front of us to take photos. Descending Bear Mountain, a popular day hike near New York, I felt like an alien descending onto another world— recently showered people wearing jeans were everywhere and the trail cut through an actual petting zoo and was adjacent to a caroseul. A day later, I camped on a church basefield for the night. The following night, the trail was close enough to a town to order pizza to our campsite, or pizzas plural given our hiker hunger. I even hiked right past an actual metro station. Was this even hiking with such contact with the off-trail world?
In a more naturey moment in New York, one early morning a bear sauntered through our campsite and ate a couple’s food who were out for the weekend, waking nearly everyone up and yet somehow I completely slept through, oblvious to a bear stepping feet from my tent.
After New York, the state of Connecticut came and went quickly, spanning only three days. While short, Connecticut was suprisingly hilly and for the first time in a few months I began to ascend sketches of actual mountains. Conneciticut was also notable due to the insane quantity of invasive caterpillars that covered the trees. With some trees bearing over 50 of them and with the ocassional caterpillar falling from branches onto my head, I felt that I was walking through the first chapter of an eery Stephen King novel.
The caterpillars began to fade as I entered Massachussetts where the ocassional uphill in Connecticut turned into a scattering of real mountains. Mass was full of ponds and ravines perfect for stopping by for lunch and the small towns I resupplied in were packed with sculptures and art galleries. As a farewell, the state ended with Mount Greylock, a beautiful climb through the forest to the highest peak in the state.
And most recently, I’ve been hiking through Vermont. Almost immediately after crossing the Massachussetts border, Vermont began with a climb to incredible views— very much the theme of the rest of the state so far. My favorite hiking is the type of hiking that pushes you, elevates your heart rate, uses your leg muscles, and then rewards you with a summit. That’s been an exact description of the trail in Vermont.
Overlapping with the Long Trail (a ~250 mile trail that cuts through the state from North to South) for around 105 miles, the trail has been full of a variety of hikers on both the AT and the Long Trail. It’s felt like wilderness again and the AT that I fell in love with on my original section hike. Plus the state is the homeground of Ben & Jerry’s, a state truly after my heart. Vying with North Carolina, Vermont has topped the rankings for my favorite state (I nearly convinced myself to move here until I checked the winter forecasts!) and I’m eager for the remainder of the trail ahead in New Hampshire and Maine which is hopefully more of the same.
With stunning trail and great people recently, I’m damn happy and I’m eager for the 500 miles ahead, trying to take it all in. I’ve heard that the last 20% of the trail requires 80% of the effort as you take on the White Mountains and Southern Maine, but I feel ready, capable, and excited for the hiking that lies before me.
Notable Low Points
While the past week or so I’ve been on cloud nine, that has not at all been the case for this entire stretch. In early New York, I began to develop stomach issues, nausea, and my appetite waned. Ever an optimist, I convinced myself that it would all heal on it’s on. Then a week went by and my energy dropped, and again, I convinced myself that my immune system was capable and on it. After two and a half weeks of feeling subpar, I made it 2 miles into a 18 mile-day before realizing that my tank was empty. Two and half weeks of feeling sick had eroded my love of the trail, desire/ability to hike, and I decided to call a shuttle to Urgent Care in the middle of Massachussets where a doctor promptly told me that I had girardia — a not so fun 2-6 week long waterborne parasitic illness.
Fortunately, the fix was rather simple— 4 pills in one dose and then waiting 2-5 days to rest and recover. After resting and recovering, I now feel like I nearly have a superpower on trail with my energy back. I would not recommend hiking through multiple states with girardia— certainly a low point on the trail.
Notable High Points:
While my lowest low this section was being sick, the moment that I left for urgent care and he got off of work, Henry drove through the night from DC to Massachussets on a moments notice so I wouldn’t have to recover in a hotel room alone (in general being in one space with nothing to do and no people is my biggest nightmare as a highly active extrovert!). Spending 4 unexpected days off trail could have been terrible, but we visited museums, inspired by said museums tried our hands at painting (we won’t be featured in any museums soon, don’t worry), I ate copious amounts of raisin bran and fruity pebbles which was the only food that sounded good, and we spent the fourth of July together. I’m incredibly lucky.
Amidst the urban onslaught that New York felt at times, a highlight was climbing up Bear Mountain where you could see views to New York City (which you’d be able to see if I had a better camera here, but alas) and eating overpriced vending machine snacks with a group of great hikers.
Climbing up Mount Greylock in Massachussetts was also a high (both literally and figuratively) of the last section. From a visting day hiker, looking out of the top of the tower I learned that slipped into the Harry Potter books that I so loved as a kid, author J.K. Rowling mentions that the American version of Hogwarts in on top of Mount Greylock. Honestly, it’s a fitting setting if there ever was one. The trees, the views, the clouds hovering above it all had a magical lure to it all.
Also in Massachussets, I stayed a night at Upper Goose Pond cabin— a completely free cabin with bunks, canoes, and a gorgeous pond. While I was in the peak of feeling sick with girardia, taking the canoe out on the pond and watching hikers beat each other at chess was a fantastic way to cap a full day of hiking.
Finally, while Vermont has been high-point on top of high-point and I’ve loved it all, last night I hiked up Killington mountain to watch both the sunset come down over the mountain and the nearby city of Rutland and woke up early this morning in pursuit of the sunrise on the other side. Bearing the wind pounding against us, the group of hikers I was with used the moment to celebrate bein on the final stretch of our thru-hike and reminesced on what we’d seen and done to date.
Something I’ve Been Thinking About:
Every item that you own on the A.T. you carry on your back. While every thru-hiker intuitively knows this before the hike, starting out in Georgia it’s easy to overpack by thinking about what could come in handy or be nice to have on trail. Perhaps a pad to sit on? Maybe an extra shirt or two? A heavier sleeping bag? And gradually every choice begins to add up, ounce by ounce.
Four days into the A.T. most hikers then reach Neels Gap, infamous for both being the place where the largest amount of hikers quit (which, yes, seems insanely early) and also for getting “Shakedowns” where the seasoned former thru-hiker staff go ruthlessly through your pack and tell you what to discard and what to get a lighter version of.
The goal at Neel’s gap, and really across the entire trail, is to be deliberate about every ounce of weight that you carry. Less often is more. Lighter makes every mile easier on your joints and simply to carry up uphill stretches.
The trail not only naturally espouses a doctrine of minimialism with the physcial gear that you carry, but also a minimialism with respect to your time. Every day you eat, hike, filter water, put up your tent, put down your tent. That’s nearly it. There is no other possible activity to throw into the cadence of your day-to-day.
And so by nature of thru-hiking, you are not “busy” in the traditional sense with only a few items on the to-do list daily.
Before trail, I’d often find myself in the oppsosite position, with a packed to-do list. Workouts, drinks with friends, events, weekend plans collaged over my calendar like an attempt to fill every white space. As someone who likes doing things and being active, I’d assume that this activity was living a full life and making me happy. I focused on happiness through addition.
The trail has made me think of, both through the act of keeping my pack ruthlessly light in the physcial sense and in the act of being not-busy, of the happiness that comes through subtraction. Yes, doing things can be a steadfast avenue to being happy, but so, perhaps, can not doing things. Of how elimination is an equally important lever to focus on in building a happy, meaningful life. In other words, how “Shakedowns” aren’t just helpful to bring pack weight down for the A.T., but should perhaps be a mental model for thinking about time use as well.
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As always, thank you for reading and hope that you are well!
Best,
Tierney // trailname: BeastMode
Some additional photos…
I love you Tierney! 💕❤️