Brandon Gap to Lincoln Gap - Stage Seven - Overnight Hike - aka CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF A MOOSE KIND

Well, I learned the limits to my endurance on this overnight hike and I had an epiphany along the way - no more hikes of this degree of challenge!!! I began the hike at 9:50 am on Saturday, August 31 at Brandon Gap (2,183 ft). The forecast was for occasional showers and the sky was totally overcast. This made it pleasant hiking weather but took away the opportunity for some great vistas along the Trail.

The first 0.8 mile climbs Mt. Horrid (3,216 ft.). The ascent is steep and long. I arrive at a side trail that takes me 0.1 mile to the Great Cliff of Mt. Horrid. From the Gap, on a clear day, you can see the cliff rising 600 feet above. From this spot, however, all I see is clouds. I then snake my way up to the wooded summit. You know when your first mile of a hike is a climb up something called Mt. Horrid, you're in for a rough time.

I then descend a short way and begin another climb up Cape Lookoff Mountain (3,320 ft). Following a third short descent I climb Gillespie Peak (aka, White Rocks Mountain, 3,336 ft). Along the way I encounter a flower I do not believe I have seen on the trail before. I also saw a pink version of this flower as well.

I soon leave the Green Mountain National Forest and enter private land owned by Middlebury College. The land was given to the college by Colonel Joseph Battell and is now known as the Battell Wilderness. After another short descent I climb to the East Summit of Romance Mountain (3,125 ft).
I'm not sure how it got its name, but I'm not feeling too romantic after all of the climbing. I hike a switchback down to Romance Gap (2,685) and move north until I come to Sucker Brook Trail and Sucker Brook Shelter (built 1963, sleeps 8, 2,440 ft). I assume it's called Sucker Brook because there is no water running in it - Sorry sucker! I've hiked 5.6 miles at this point and it feels closer to 8 because of the ups and downs.

From the shelter, and a brief five minute rest, I begin my second significant climb of the hike up Worth Mountain (3,234 ft). I pass a few vistas along the way, but only clouds do I see. I then descend moderately, and pass over a couple of unnamed summits as I work my way to the clearing for Middlebury College's Snow Bowl Ski slope. The clouds have lifted a bit and I actually have my first long range view to the northeast.

Worth Moutain Lodge is located 0.2 miles off of the trail but I decide it probably doesn't serve ice cold beer so I forego the 0.4 mile round trip excursion. I cross a number of ski trails and accidently step into a hole that trips me and takes me to the ground. I'm not hurt, but focus more on both the trail and the trail markers as I'm descending from the Snow Bowl. I soon come to a 0.2 side spur to Lake Gilead (2,128 ft) the lowest elevation I'll be on this hike. A lake strikes me as more worthy than a lodge and I take this detour. The lake is pleasant and deserted. I strip down to my Under Armour Boxers and wade in. The water is refreshing, even though I sink to my knees in organic mush. I paddle around for about five minutes. As soon as I get out of the pond I hear people coming down the trail towards me. No sooner do I have my shorts back on than a family of four, with two pre-teen girls show up to swim. Good timing!

Back on the trail I climb a low ridge and then cross Rt. 125 at Middlebury Gap. I've driven through here many times and its nice to hike across it. I now begin my third significant climb, this time up Mt. Boyce. I enter the Breadloaf Wilderness and begin to climb. After 0.4 mile, I come to Silent Cliff Trail, an 0.8 round-trip spur to a view. I decide that cloud cover will prevent much of a view and I press on. This spur, however, is one of the required side-trails for certification, so I know I will have to return and hike it some other day. I suspect I wimped out due more to my fatigue and less due to the cloudy view.

I continue to climb and come to Burnt Hill Trail, another side trail. I'm tired and at this point decide that I will stop at the next shelter I come to. I follow a rugged slope west to Boyce Shelter (built 1963, sleeps eight). I have hiked 13.6 miles and am exhausted. It feels like I have gone 17 or 18. It is 6:30 pm so I have hiked for over eight hours. I slip out of my shoes and into my flip flops and walk down to the water source which the trail guide describes as "unreliable". I'll say! I have to go down stream a bit in order to find a puddle big enough to pump water from. Back at the shelter I eat my canned Tuna and look forward to spending a night in a shelter by myself. This will be the first time I spend the night at one alone. The weather is cool, low 50's I'd guess, and I settle in. I spend the night fighting a massive right hamstring cramp that flairs up about every hour and takes much of the joy out of sleeping.

I awake feeling better than I probably should. I'm packed and on the trail at 6:50 am, bagel in hand. I'm so focused I forget to take a picture of the shelter. Today I get to make a choice. I can go 10.0 miles to Cooley Glen Shelter and stay a second night there, or I can push on to the end and cover 15 miles. I debate what to do most of the way. Generally speaking, whenever I am hiking uphill or steeply downhill, I mentally vote for the Glen. On flat areas, I feel like I can make it all the way.

I start out by finishing my climb to the summit of Mt. Boyce (3,323 ft). The day has dawned beautifully with hardly a cloud in the sky. There is a pleasant pre-fall breeze that comforts all day long. From Mt. Boyce I continue along a ridge and then climb Breadloaf Mountain. After 2.0 miles I come to Skyline Lodge (built 1987, sleeps 14). This was actually where I had planned to spend last night but didn't make it. It is the nicest shleter I've seen so far and overlooks a lilly-pad covered pond.

I have been sucking down the water so I refill my pack at the spring located near the Lodge. I continue a steep ascent to the top of Breadloaf (3,835 ft.). Along the way I pass a large slab of marble and I use it as an excuse to stop and rest while taking a picture. At the top of Breadloaf there is a 0.1 mile spur to a view looking east and the beautiful day makes for a great shot.

I follow the rugged path downhill crossing over or under numerous fallen trees. Getting under a tree with a backpack is challenging. I also have to negotiate my way bown several steep granite slabs without falling. After 4.0 miles today, I arrive at Emily Proctor Shelter (Built 1960, sleeps 5, 3,460 ft). At this shelter is a young man who has set his tent up inside the lean to. He says he started from the north at Mt. Mansfield 16 days ago. This means that he has covered about 50 miles in 16 days, a leisurly pace to say the least. As I leave. I'm thinking he isn't much of a hiker, but the further I go the more I realize that maybe he has this hiking stuff all figured out! Of course, once again I forget to take a photo of the shelter.

I now begin the climb up Mt. Wilson (3,745 ft.) At the top I meet a fellow who is taking a month off from his work in Hanover, NH to hike the trail. He has to average about 9 miles a day to finish it and says he is a bit ahead of schedule. I begin the descent down the other side and soon climb back up to Little Hans Peak (3,348 ft) and then up to summit Mt. Cleveland (3,482 ft.)

I start down the steep descent and after another mile that's when all hell breaks loose. I round a curve and there, staring at me is a large female moose. She stands about six feet tall and is not a happy camper at my arrival. She paws the ground and charges me. I jump off the trail behind a small sappling and bend it back as far as I can. When she gets close enough I snap it into her face. She pauses to recover as I believe it hit her in the eye. I move behind a large tree as she regains her anger and charges again. What follows is a chase around and around the tree that must have lasted for 20 circuits. Eventually, tired and dizzy, she slows to a wobble. I move back to the trail to continue on, picking up a sizable rock on the way. She just stares at me on shaking legs. I figure I am in the clear and turn to head down the trail. About 15 seconds later I hear her staggering up the trail towards me. She is walking at a gait - no longer charging. When she get to within about three feet of me I throw the rock with all my might, catching her right between the eyes. With all of the weightlifting I've been doing, I'm strong enough to deliver the rock with force. She drops to her front knees, swivels to her side and then, believe it or not, she has a heart attack. as Jimmy Buffett says, "That's my story and I'm sticking to it"!

I descend steeply to Cooley Glen Shelter (built 1965, sleeps 8, 3,130 ft.) Once again I'm too tired to think to take a photo. It is 1:40 pm and I have been hiking since 7:00 am and have covered 10 miles so I remove my pack and my shoes and lay down to rest. After 45 minutes I reassess my condition and decide I can make the final 5 miles to my car and do not need to spend a second night eating Tuna.

The first 0.9 miles is a steep ascent up Mt. Grant (3,623 ft.). At the top I realize only willpower will get me through this hike. My hands are cramping from gripping my hiking poles, my calves and hamstrings are cramping, my left quad is quivering and my feet are sore, sore, sore.

I descend steadily but slowly as I try to focus on not taking a misstep. Every fallen tree I have to over or under creates a new batch of cramps. These are the deep cramps that one can do nothing about. I climb toward Sunset Ledge (2,811 ft.) There are actually three climbs to get to the ledge. Each takes you up steeply about 150 feet over a sloping wall of granite. Half way up the second tier I give out, drop to my knees, remove my pack, and roll over onto my back. I lay on the granite for 15 minutes wondering if I could spend the night there if I had to. I decide I shouldn't and get up, put the pack on, and get moving.

I reach Sunset Ledge and, even though it is 5:30 pm and the sun is getting low in the sky, I snap a quick picture and get back on the trail.

The remainder of the hike is a steep descent down to Licoln Gap (2,424 ft.). I handle this with reasonable speed as I can smell my car and the big Mountain Dew I plan to buy on the drive home. Why I don't have one iced down in the car already I don't know. I pass a number of hikers heading up to the Ledge for Sunset.

All in all, I have hiked 28 miles climbed over 5,000 feet, descended over 4,000 making this the toughest hike to date. Today I have hiked 15 miles in 11 hours and 20 minutes. I am exhausted as I drive home. I keep praying that I won't get a massive cramp while driving. During the drive my hands cramp so severely that I can't straingten out my thumbs, my forearms cramp from holding on to the steering wheel, and each hamstring cramps several times. I drive about 40 miles per hour all the way home where Jon, my son, has gone to pick me up some Chinese food. I shower, eat, soak my feet, suffer a few more cramps, and decide that this is enough...I'm breaking the remainder of the trail into smaller, more managable treks. Perhaps if I was doing this sort of hiking daily it wouldn't be a problem. But hitting the trail every other weekend is not frequent enough to develop my muscle stamina to where it need to be. My next overnight hike will cover only 12 miles and I plan to enjoy that one.