The Chin and the knee

I had high ambitions for hiking in Vermont. Yesterday I was going to hike to the top of the 2nd and 3rd highest mountains in the state (Mount Killington and the Camel's Hump). However, after 4 days of backpacking in the rocky Adirondacks, my knee was complaining loudly. My plans were further hampered by the remnants of hurricane Isabel, which had struck the North Carolina coast and delivered some rain and very high winds to Vermont.

Very cloudy day on Mansfield's ridge.

I had started out on a 6 mile hike of the Bucklin Trail up Killington, and the higher I climbed, the more my knee began shooting spasms of pain. At the same time, the trees were swaying wildly in the winds, and occasional large branches would break off and crash to the forest floor. The four-mile stretch of gravel road between the trailhead and a main highway (where I'd already removed one tree branch on the drive in) continued to nag at my thoughts, prudence demanded that I get back to town and take a break from hiking today.

Following the blazes.

Still worried about my knee even after my partial rest day, I decided to drive up the toll road to the main ridge of Mount Mansfield, and walk from the parking lot on a mostly level stretch of the Long Trail toward the "Chin". The Chin is the highest part of Mount Mansfield, which on a clear day is supposed to look like a profile (other parts of the ridge are named for the forehead, nose, and upper/lower lips).

The wind had died down to a manageable level since yesterday, but the ridge was cloaked in a thick cloud, reducing visibility to about 40 feet. What wind there was blew moisture-laden air into my glasses, and I had to stop often to wipe them clean so I could see again.

While the trail wasn't hard to follow, it was somewhat difficult to walk on when wet and partially blind. All the obvious places to plant your foot had been stepped on thousands of times before by others, and the granite was worn smooth in many spots.

Summit Markers at the Chin.

Passing junctions with the Subway, and Profanity trails, I knew I was getting closer to the chin. On a clear day I should have been able to see Mount Washington in New Hampshire from here, about 240 miles away. Today I could see about 0.004% of that distance.

Thankfully, the trail leads directly over the highpoint markers, the USGS survey marker and a triangle carved into the rock. I took a few pictures of the markers, and the clouds, then headed back the way I came.

On the way back it began to rain lightly, then heavily right as I reached my car. Maybe there was no correlation, but I couldn't help feeling I hadn't hiked enough to earn a clear day.

I drove down the toll road and out of the clouds, then headed toward Mount Washington, my thoughts occupied by whether or not I'd be able to hike up to the home of the "World's Worst Weather", or if I'd be reduced to another toll road.

Stunted trees on Mansfield's ridge.