Vacation 2013 Stowe and Mt. Mansfield

OK, having made it to Stowe and having frolicked with the hoi pelloi, it was time to get back to nature. And, of course, that always means conquering some visible challenge. Like managing the part in my hair. This day, however, it was climbing to the top of Vermont's highest peak, Mt. Mansfield.

Apple maps, as its called, sent me an interesting way. Stowe sits on the wrong side of the mountain, so I had to go around to reach the Underhill State Park trailhead  First you go through "Smuggler's Notch," a dangerously designed road that darts in and out between jutting granite formations. Imagine a car or tire company "performance course" ad, except instead of orange cones, sharp edged boulders narrow the effective road width to one lane. Then after getting through this stretch, Apple sent me down about five dirt roads. The trip was turning into an Aaron Copland song. Though it provided outstanding scenery, I wondered what was next. Quicksand? Locust plague? Leonard Smalls on a motorcycle, shooting innocent rabbits? Eventually I reached the park and visited with the "Park Ranger" on duty about which trails to follow to the summit. By "Park Ranger," I mean wee dimensioned woman, probably in her early 20s but who could pass for 12 with her Jennifer Tilly voice. She stood on a stool at one point to identify something on a wall map, and was still shorter than me. Cute, and I did enjoy meeting a member of the Lullaby League. She directed me to take the Laura Cowles trail up the mountain, and then the Sunset Ridge trail back down. She explained that recent rains had made the Laura Cowles trail slippery so I would find it very difficult going down the mountain.

So after arranging and adjusting, I headed out to the trail. Blissfully ignorant of the conditions ahead.

The Laura Cowles trail gains about 2,600' in elevation over 2.7 miles. In other words, damn. It is steep. It runs alongside a rushing creek at lower levels. About halfway, the creek actually runs on the trail itself. About two-thirds of the trail consists of a very slippery, metallic looking rock making footing treacherous both climbing and descending. The weather had turned relatively warm and muggy, so early into the hike I was pouring sweat, even though trees mostly shaded the route.

Going straight up the mountain

Now, when I write about reaching a mountain peak, I usually call it "climbing" the mountain. I never literally "climb" a mountain; I just follow a hiking trail that leads to the mountain top and refer to that as "climbing." Usually the mountain is wide enough that the elevation increases sufficiently gradually, or the trail follows a lot of totally boring switchbacks. This hike really did involve climbing up the rocks. The steep grade forced me to climb on all fours during a long stretch. I was like Gollum leading the Hobbits into Mordor, scrambling over the rocks (you know, with so many Top Gun and Lord of the Rings and Star Wars references, its really puzzling how some nice girl hasn't snapped me up). It got so bad at a couple of points, I had to douse my head with cold stream water. It felt really good, though I wondered about my scalp absorbing amoebas and bacteria because I'm totally not obsessively paranoid about anything. About the last quarter of the trail, I really wasn't thinking very clearly and began staggering and slipping. I lost my footing at one point, grabbed a nearby branch to regain my stance but it broke off and I fell about 15 feet back down the trail. I could have broken a leg or wrist, had a concussion, or torn ankle ligaments. I'd have been in real trouble because no one was on that trail. But with all the great training I get from Kirby Sams, I was able to land well enough to avoid injury. It shook me pretty good though.

Cloudy views from the summit

Near the top, the birch trees and ferns that line the trail give way to alpine vegetation, at a very pronounced tree break. From there the trail leads roughly a half mile to the top. The summit normally would provide incredible views of the entire region. One guide said you can even see as far as Montreal's Mount Royal. Not this day though. The sunny day below yielded to fast moving storm clouds at the top. Talk about Texas weather; I literally saw this storm move right in, with thunder and lightning as well. So I had to beat it to get back down. I had to go the Sunset Ridge trail, however, as Laura Cowles was far too slippery and wet to risk taking it.

The mountain disappears back into the mist

But the Sunset Ridge trail also presented an enormous challenge. The upper segment reminded me of a rainy day hike I took in Scotland a couple of years ago, at Loch Lomond (I know, that's kind of a hiking d-bag thing to say, like "it reminded me of this painting I saw at the Hotel de Paris in Monaco last spring."). Craggy rock, alpine, scrub vegetation. It provided some really clear Green Mountains views, however, and I also saw the sunset fighting to break through the clouds. But the footing was even more treacherous going down than coming up. I don't think I had the right boots. A few other people passed me by and didn't seem to have much trouble. I lost my footing four or five more times and took some more spills. No injuries though, just a few scratches. The mountain peak behind me had disappeared into a cloud. Just like Brigadoon. I had to move on down to avoid the weather. But I made it, staggering down to my car to change and head back. I knew that the spotted chicken lamp missed me.

The Green Mountains, coming down the Sunset Ridge trail

This hike was one of the toughest and most physically demanding and draining experiences I've ever endured. Other than staying awake at the opera, of course. Though difficult, the hike was enormously satisfying. It featured phenomenal scenery (check out the photos on my flickr site). And knowing that I can still dig deep and reach the top, though a 50 year old heart patient and all, that's good to know.

That night, I found a great pizza place offering a gluten free crust option, and I figured I'd earned the calories. When I arrived, they were having a trivia contest. That's right, a trivia contest. When did Trivial Pursuit become a thing again? Are we all doing trivia now and I missed it? Oh, and Pabst Blue Ribbon sponsored it, but it wasn't beer trivia. Can't we at least play something a little cooler? Maybe a nice game of Twister? Right foot blue!

The next morning I took forever to get going, but eventually I got my act together and took it on the road. When I checked out, I learned that the desk clerk grew up in Humble, and (for some reason) graduated from Nimitz High School (class of 1989). He moved to Stowe with his family, following his father in law who had opened a bed and breakfast many years ago. We talked about Humble and Kingwood for awhile. Funny how no one ever seems thrilled to live there, but they always seem to miss it.

All in all, I enjoyed Stowe, sort of. Its a little small, but after all its a ski resort during the non-skiing season. As a two day stop though, its just fine.

NEXT-Montpelier, Quechee Gorge, and Woodstock (not that Woodstock).