Vermont rocks!

While this didn't happen out my front door, it happened out a front door. Namely the front door of the hotel we were staying at in Londonderry, Vermont. Dee Dee was attending a Wanderlust yoga festival for 5 days and I went with her with my mountain bike and trail shoes loaded into the Jeep. I should have left the bike at home as there was no mountain biking in southern Vermont. And after a few trail runs I understood why.

 The first day there I dropped Dee Dee off to be all bendy for the day and drove around to various outfitters buying maps and getting trail info. The second day I had a challenging route all planned out, aided by the fact that a Wanderlust sponsor was paying to have the Stratton Mountain gondolas running all weekend. 

My plan was to take the gondola to the top of the mountain (3940'), run 3/4 of a mile of connector trail to the Appalachian Trail, drop down the mountain to a dirt road I had driven the day before, run a mile on the road, run up Stratton Pond Trail to connect to the Appalachian Trail again at Stratton Pond, climb back to the top of Stratton Mountain and take the gondola back down. A 14 mile loop with a lot of climbing, but still reasonable, I thought.

Well, Dee Dee's yoga sessions didn't start until noon that day, so after I dropped her off I was getting a pretty late start. Dee Dee rode the gondola to the top of the mountain with me, gave me a kiss and told me to be careful (she always says that).

After hearing of my plan, the gondola operator at the top of the mountain warned me that the gondola's quit running at 5:00 pm. So, I jogged down the connector trail and found a handy log to stash a plastic bag of dry clothes behind for the return trip down the mountain. A short time later I came to the Appalachian Trail junction and turned South, heading down the mountain. It was Friday and I happened upon a lot of hikers heading the other way up the mountain. They were all carrying huge packs and moving pretty darn slow. I was feeling pretty smug, not being encumbered by anything more than a water bottle belt and a couple packs of GU.

It became apparent pretty quickly why everyone was moving so slowly. Rocks. Boulders. Baby heads as far as the eye could see. What I had envisioned as a quick drop down the mountain was turning into a scramble down what for all intents and purposes was a dry waterfall and creek bed. I traveled a good half mile before my feet even touched dirt. Running when I could and scrambling when I had to, it took me an hour to cover the first two and a half miles, losing 1500' along the way. This did not bode well for my plan since I would have to cover the next 11.5 miles and climb 1700' in four hours.

Thankfully, I'd been clever enough to plan a bailout route. At the end of my first 2.5 miles I crossed a grassy snowmobile trail that would cut a whole bunch of distance off my loop and it promised to be a whole lot more runnable than the Appalachian Trail.

 

So I turned right up the snowmobile trail, heading North in order to connect with the Appalachian Trail again. Yep, the grassy doubletrack was way more runnable and I made good time but was regretting leaving the shade of the deep woods. I stopped to take pictures of this wetland I crossed and was hoping to see a moose lift it's head up out of the water with a mouthful of water weeds (c'mon, that's what every picture of a moose looks like). No moose but I did pass by a ruffed grouse that did the whole broken-wing dance for me so I knew there were some chicks around somewhere.

A little over 3 miles later I connected with the Appalachian Trail again and started my 1800' climb back to the top of Stratton Mountain. Almost immediately I started running into the hikers I had met on my way down the mountain at the beginning of the run. And, yes, I had to explain to each one of them how this was possible. Also, each and every hiker told me about the young moose that was hanging out on the trail near the top of the mountain. This gave me added incentive to hustle my way up the mountain, running the dirt and climbing the rocky sections. I must have passed a half dozen hikers and every one told me about taking pictures of the moose that was apparently casually modeling on the trail. I kept up the hustle, now with my camera in my hand.

 I topped out on the mountain at this restored fire tower without so much as a glimpse of the damn moose. I found my dry bag, changed behind a bush and climbed aboard the gondola for the ride back down. The gondola operator asked how my run had gone and I told him it was a nice 9 miler except that I was the only person on the mountain who hadn't seen the damn moose.

The following day I drove over to the trailhead of the Statton Pond Trail and ran it up to Stratton Pond and back, a very pleasant 7 mile outing with probably a half mile of boardwalk.