On a beautiful October Sunday, during peak foliage season, it was a great day to enjoy my first trail run in a few weeks. October has been a fun month! Not only has my birthday recently passed, but I also ran my fastest marathon in 22 years (fast enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon) a few days before said birthday, and have found that my recovery was easy enough to continue my running without a long layoff! Chatting with fellow middle aged runners, especially those who have stayed fit for all or most of their adult lives, it seems that I am not unique in my ability to run long distances without the excessive training regimens usually associated with marathon running. I guess our old bodies have learned how to go the distance? In any case, I just wanted to get out and enjoy the color, the scenery, and the fresh air on this run, so I returned to an old favorite, the Silver Lake trail, with a few variations. October is all pleasure!
The trailhead for this run is at one of the most popular trailheads in Addison County, the Falls of Lana trailhead just past Branbury State Park on VT Rt. 53. Fall foliage weekends are typically among the busiest days of the year on Vermont trails, and this day was no exception – the usually overly generous parking lot was nearly full, and there were even some cars parked on the apron of the road. Nonetheless, I found a corner in the lot where my rustbucket vehicle would fit, and started up the Silver Lake Trail. As expected, I passed numerous parties heading up and down the trail – and who could blame them? Nonetheless, at one of the short trails connecting the Penstock (fancy speak for “pipeline”) trail, I veered to the right connecting this in order to avoid the other hikers on the main trail. Realistically, the trail wasn’t that crowded – it was nothing like the conga line seen hiking up to, say, Tuckerman’s Ravine in the spring, but given the option to run away from others, I chose it. I also enjoyed the softer ground, and the sounds of the longer end-of-the-season grass rubbing against my leg as I ran. After a short distance on the Penstock trail, I took a right turn up to the Lake Dunmore overlook, a short ascent under the power lines. The view here was great in both directions – west, out over Lake Dunmore, as well as back towards the main ridge of the Green Mountains back to the east.
After soaking up the views from this vantage, I returned to the Silver Lake Dam, and took a right turn over the dam to return to my old nemesis, the Chandler Ridge Trail. The Chandler Ridge Trail runs along the hills separating Silver Lake from Lake Dunmore down below, although some topo maps apply this name to the ridge to the immediate west of Silver Lake. Semantics aside, I refer to this trail as my nemesis due to challenges I had running it during an ultramarathon last year, which left me fighting a hip injury for many months. I have also wondered how the views would be from this scenic wooded ridge during the foliage season, so I gave in to my curiosity. I was hoping that enough leaves would have fallen to open up the views towards each of the flanking lakes, but the mixed deciduous/coniferous forests, combined with the still intact colorful leaves left most of the views partially obscured, but shrouded in color. After heading about a mile south, I turned around and retraced my path back to the shores of Silver Lake, and followed its shores to the right, and spent a few minutes enjoying the late afternoon sun dancing on the water of this back country lake.
Circling through the campground before descending on the main trail back to my waiting car, I noticed the following sign of the times on one of the usually well-maintained remote privies. Needless to say, I didn’t check out the TP situation!
Returning to my car, with the parking lot thinning out as the afternoon turned to early evening, this made for a roughly 6 mile run, with about 750 feet of vertical ascent and descent. While this probably also marks my last trail run before the leaves are gone, it reinforced my sense that yes, October is a great month for running, birthdays, and pleasure!
One of my all-time favorite short trail runs is the popular dash up to the summit of Snake Mountain, with its panoramic views to of Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks to the west. Each September, I also like to present an easily accessible run for the benefit of Middlebury College freshman who might be looking for nearby runs or hikes that can be reached quickly from campus. While this trailhead requires (for most people) a short drive, there are enough snazzy SUV’s on campus (and we aren’t talking 10-year old Dodge pickup trucks -go Lexus!) that opportunities for transportation are not hard to come by. I have blogged runs up this mountain a few times in the past. From the well known western route, I have described the run under both midsummer conditions, as well as during Mud Season. I have also described the lesser known trail ascending Snake Mountain from the east side. Nonetheless, there were still some trails on this well trammeled mountain which I have not described, or even explored, and so I thought it would be fun to make them part of a new entry.
Rather than describe in detail the driving route to the trailhead, I will refer my readers to a previous posting with detailed instructions on how to get there. Setting off from the parking lot, and shortly before heading up the mountain trail, I noticed that the old building across from the end of Wilmarth Road at the trailhead had been repainted a bright red, and with this new paint job, it looked a lot like an old one-room schoolhouse. I have never thought of this abandoned building in this regard, but now I wonder if it may be an old schoolhouse. Does anyone know of the original purpose of this building?
The first section of the run involves a straightforward run up the broad trail, which was dry on this run, but can be a pretty major quagmire in the spring. As this section of the trail ended, it reached a “T”in the trail. It is pretty obvious to that a left turn takes you up towards the summit, but I have always wondered where I would end up if I were to take the right fork? Maybe on the way down? Staying on the obvious trail, through a series of switchbacks gets you to the main summit after about 2 miles. Many visiters to this summit have been under the impression that the large concrete slab at the summit is left over from the former small summit hotel which operated around the turn of the 20th century. This slab is actually of more recent origin, although I don’t know the exact decade in which it was built. It apparently is the result of someone’s aborted attempt to build a home on the summit, and the real foundations of the hotel can be found not far from this viewpoint in the woods.
Most hikers and runners don’t come up here for the history, however. They come up here for the spectacular views. Even though the day of this run was pretty cloudy, the views were still excellent – I could easily make out the smoke from the Ticonderoga Paper Mill, about 15 miles away.
Unlike my previously blogged runs on this small summit, I decided to take a different route on the way down. So, on this run, I took the first obvious right turn on the descent, and in a few short minutes arrived at the other, less frequently visited vista. During some summers, this other viewpoint has been closed due to peregrine falcon nesting, but apparently there wasn’t a nesting pair there this last summer. This “South Summit” (OK – stretching the Everest analogy here a little bit too much?) also has another curious feature. Directly behind the rock where most hikers enjoy the view, there is what appears to be a small marshy pond. What most people don’t know is that this is actually a man-made pond which was created to provide swimming opportunities for the guests of the long gone summit hotel! It’s anthropogenic origins are more obvious if you notice the man-made earthen berm along the east side of the pond. I might also add that this pond, now rather shallow and mucky, shows no sign of whatever appeal it might once have had to summit visitors!
Continuing on, the descent from this summit takes you down a trail which is steeper and narrower than the ascending trail, and eventually returns you to the main trail. At this point, you can simply retrace your steps to complete a 4 mile run, but as alluded to earlier in the posting, I decided to explore the continuation of the summit trail which goes straight, where most hikers and runners turn right. Not having the slightest idea where I might turn up, I headed down this trail, which eventually brought me into a lovely meadow, and shortly thereafter, to the side of the road known as Mountain Street Extension, where I took a right turn, followed about a half mile later by another right turn which returned me to my car, adding an additional mile to the run. The five mile run, combined with nearly a thousand feet of ascent and descent makes for a fun, and pretty intense mountain run. But remember, like a lot of fun challenges, it is only hard the first time!
On this, the last weekend before the start of my school year, I was looking for a good long run to complete the summer running season. August had been a disappointing month for running, due to back spasms which slowed me for most of the nicest days of the summer, but after a month of recovery, I felt up to a longer run than I had done in a while. With that in mind, I thought it would be fun to revisit a route which I last ran (and blogged) three years ago under very different conditions, and entitled it “Stick Season above the Snow Line” This loop involves considerable time on the Long Trail along the Worth Mountain ridge, and when I last checked it out I was running through a bit of snow, and racing to get back to my car before darkness. While snow at the higher altitudes may not be that far off, this was most definitely a late summer run – the leaves are still all there, and mostly green, at least to this somewhat colorblind runner. Cooler temperatures also made for pleasant conditions on a cloudy September afternoon.
This loop is also of a length, and on terrain which most people would call “a hike”. While I love a long hike in the mountains, one of the great pleasures of trailrunning is that it can get you out in the woods covering a lot of terrain when you don’t have time for the more leisurely pacing of a day hike. So, before this run, I mowed the lawn, played the piano for a bit, read a few papers, and enjoyed a leisurely late lunch before setting off, and still got back in plenty of time for dinner. Live life to the fullest!
Setting off from my favorite running trailhead, the Brooks Road Trailhead (also known as the Chatfield Trailhead), located off of a short dirt road a mile or so below the Middlebury College Snow Bowl, I started up the comfortable climb on the dirt road. While this road is open to car traffic, I rarely see any motor vehicles on it. The road climbs steeply for the first mile and a half, rising about 400-500 feet rather abruptly, but climbs more gently most of the rest of the way to its end, 3.7 miles up into the mountains. When you get to the end of the road, follow the well worn path over the obvious footbridge over Sucker Brook, until you reach the Long Trail Spur trail on your left. Take this trail, which also climbs pretty gradually with a lot of easy running terrain for another mile or so, until you reach the Sucker Brook Shelter, found in a saddle in the Green Mountains known as “Romance Gap”. I met a small group of hikers, one of whom was a Long Trail through-hiker, and after exchanging pleasantries for a few minutes, headed up the hillside, and joined the Long Trail itself in a few minutes, turned left, and headed north towards Middlebury Gap.
As expected, the running on the Long Trail was more technical than the rest of the run. As mountain ridge trails go, this was more runnable than most, with long sections of gradually climbing and descending dirt or mud path to run on. In the rockier sections, the running becomes more akin to skipping, with your feet doing all kinds of crazy things in order to maintain a decent speed! In sections where the climbing or descending got steeper, or potentially more slippery, I slowed to a fast hiking speed. This section of the Long Trail is not known for its sweeping vistas, although there were a few limited views through the trees in places. What I do love about this section are the more subtle sights one comes across when traipsing through the forest at around 3000 ft elevation. I have always been particularly fond of the shelf fungus growing out of the side of some of the older hardwoods, and one which I came across looked so sturdy that it was begging for something to display. So, I set up a small rock cairn on it, which will no doubt puzzle or amuse subsequent passersby if they have the presence of mind to look beyond their own boots or running shoes.
Not long after this, I reached the high point of the run, the summit of Worth Mountain (~3200 ft) and began the gradual undulating descent to the top of the Snow Bowl. I was amused to meet a hiker, who seemed so happy to get a signal on his cell phone that he couldn’t resist the temptation to check his facebook page. To each his own…. The wooden walkways signaled my approach to the Snow Bowl, and shortly thereafter, I broke out into the amazing view towards the east from the top of the Bailey Falls lift.
From here, I scrambled down the steeper upper sections of the Voter Trail at the Snow Bowl, named after Old Professor Perley Voter, one of my predecessors in the Chemistry Department at the college. He must have been great, as there is also a building named after him, Voter Hall! As I reached the bottom, I passed a fellow middle-aged trail runner on his way up the mountain, and after the mandatory exchange of complaints about our aging bodies, headed across the parking lot, and descended on Rt 125 to return to my car just as the drizzling rain started to get just a little bit heavier.
According to my GPS, this was a 10.5 mile run, with an 1800 foot ascent, probably closer to 2000 feet with the undulations along the way. Not a bad way to end the summer. Now, time to prepare for Monday classes……And bring on the Fall!
Typically, I make one or two blog posts a year from the lovely Mad River Valley, just outside the confines of our own Addison County. For one, it gives me an opportunity to share an area just a little farther away, but still within pretty easy geographical reach of most of my readers, as well as the fact that I am usually visiting my extended family when I am in the Waitsfield area, and it is good to get out of the house for a run when traveling. So, on a pleasant, spectacularly sunny, but not too hot August afternoon, I decided to explore a footpath that I knew little about – the Mad River Path in Waitsfield. Many people know of the heavily used and well developed bike path weaving alongside the river in Stowe, a few towns further to the north, but few know much about the Mad River Path. I only knew of its existence having seen a few signs alongside a few points where the path has road access, but prior to this run, knew nothing of its condition or extent.
I chose to start this run from a point which is currently the southern terminus of this path, near the Lareau swimming hole on the Mad River. This popular, family-friendly swimming hole has a large parking lot, which is often nearly full on hot weekend days, a small beach, a larger grassy area (which is starting to recover after the ravages or Irene!) and a great rock for exhilarating, but reasonably safe leaps into the deep pool below. I had presumed that the run north from this point would be on a path, more or less hugging the Mad River, and was initially disappointed to note from the map posted that the Mad River Path is, at this point, a series of short riverside sections which return to the highway as private property owners and/or terrain force the path away from the shore. So, I set off on this run guided mostly by the thought of hugging the shoreline whenever possible, returning to the highway for the shortest possible stretches when necessary, and respecting private property when posted. As a result, a quick glance at my GPS trace from this run looks somewhat disjointed, as a series of loops emanating from Rt. 100.
So setting off north through the woods between Rt. 100 and the Mad River, I came to the first obstacle to a continuous run – the Mill Brook, which is a broad stream cascading down from the higher elevations. There was a path which followed the south shore of this path to its confluence with the Mad River, but not obvious place to ford the stream easily. Maybe someday the town can raise the funds necessary to build a footbridge here? Doubling back to the highway bridge, I followed the shoulder of Rt. 100 until I reached a small side road called “Fiddler’s Green” which brought me back to the riverside, and the next segment of the path. The path here wove past intermittent views of the river, and a picnic table in a quiet place before coming across a small, and frankly more interesting car graveyard. While this place served as a stark reminder that this area was far from wilderness, I have always found abandoned old cars in out of the way places oddly attractive and photogenic. This particular vehicle’s door insignia indicated that it had once served the East Burke VT Fire Department!
The path then veered to the left, up the hill past some private residences and businesses until it rejoined Rt 100 just north of the Mehuron’s strip mall. Continuing north, the next opportunity to join the river bank was afforded by the wide expanse of the town ball fields, which were also recovering nicely post-Irene. The lush green of these fields make it hard to believe that just two years ago, they were muddy flats, left behind as the Mad River, swollen by Irene, subsided. This right turn towards the water, brought me to a small muddy riverside beach, where I noted a few water enthusiasts exploring the river the best way – by innertube. I also noted several abandoned child’s toys alongside the river bank – not inappropriately toy trucks with tires suited to imaginary driving in the muddy riverbank.
Unfortunately, most of the riverfront near to the ball fields was separated from the parkland by a thick hedge of trees, so after a loop around the field looking for secret passageways to the water front, I returned to the highway having found none other than the one access point. Continuing north, I reached the more developed section of waterfront close to the Waitsfield covered bridge, which miraculously escaped Irene’s fury more or less unscathed. The official trail commenced along this short section of waterfront, which also serves as another popular mid summer swimming hole. I found myself cursing the fact that I had left my wallet back in my car, so couldn’t get a cone from the hard ice cream store in the village. This store is a favorite, as they are one of the increasing number of ice cream parlors which make ice cream in non traditional, sometimes savory flavors, in addition to old favorites. On this perfect August afternoon, there were quite a few families hanging out, enjoying the cool water just upstream from the bridge.
While this segment of the Mad River trail ended at the covered bridge, the open meadows to the north invited further exploration, so I continued on. I couldn’t figure out if the mangled chunks of steel alongside the river bank were the results of some grievous damage from past floods in the area, or misguided attempts at modern sculpture. Really. After about a half mile in this meadow, I turned around to make my return, as I only came across one short path with river access. My return to my car mostly involved reversing my path on the way out, other than the fact that I did discover another path accessing the riverside from the back of the cemetery alongside Mehurons. At the end of this run, which ended up at about 6 miles, I enjoyed the bracing waters of the Mad River before heading out. Why is it that I am usually the only person over 18 ever swimming in these cold waters?
As my professional activities brought me to the west coast for the second time this summer, I thought it would be fun to describe another run, far away from the usual treks into the woods of Addison County. Life on the road in business hotels can seem like a blur of mini-bars, USA Todays (although those can be welcome from time to time!) and alarm clocks, so I always enjoy sneaking out for a run to explore whatever neighborhood I am holed up in! A few months ago, while in the San Diego area, I described a “Run to the Pacific” through the bike paths and streets of Coronado Island, while on this trip, I was in an even more heavily urbanized corner of Southern California, Orange County. My first thought was to make the Pacific Ocean in nearby Newport Beach the goal of this run as well, but balked at this target when I realized that it would be a longish run (12-14 miles, but I could live with that, right?) alongside very busy expressways, which of course made this possibility far less enticing. So, my next thought was to chat with the hotel concierge, and ask about more nearby sites of interest, and all they could suggest was the adjacent luxury shopping mall. No thanks! So, I took my GPS and set off towards interesting looking buildings and did my own exploration, without the slightest idea where I might end up.
The hotel itself was in a fairly compact area of high rise buildings with some pleasant park grounds to start off in. If it wasn’t for the plentiful palm trees, these buildings could have been anywhere modern and developed, although the perfect weather (72 and sunny!) was Southern California all the way. As it turns out, I was actually in an artsy section of Orange County, and there was an outdoor sculpture garden and performing arts center in this complex.
Heading out past this steel and glass oasis, I headed down a broad boulevard, and was astonished to find myself running alongside an actual strawberry farm in the midst of this heavily populated area. In true California style, it was of course flanked by a series of highway overpasses, and even a few planes landing at the nearby “John Wayne” Airport.
Exemplifying once again how suddenly the nature of neighborhoods can change, even on a short easy run, I suddenly found myself in the midst of a very blue collar neighborhood, where all the modest homes of each block were ensconced behind stucco walls, and the sidewalks were devoid of pedestrians. This was perhaps a little unnerving, but I was comforted to hear the strains of a live mariachi band playing from behind one of the walls. I also had the pleasure of running alongside what qualifies as a river in this part of the world – an ugly concrete drainage with a little bit of muddy water and a lot of litter at the bottom.
By this point, I could once again see my high rise hotel rising in the distance, and made a beeline for it, making for a slightly less than 5 mile run- not bad for a quick run after a conference, but before dinner. All in all, it was an interesting run, especially for someone like me who had never spent any time in the LA metropolitan area before. I couldn’t help but ponder the notion that this was how most of the rest of the runners in the country do their workouts. On the plus side, the weather out there is almost always perfect for running. While our winter months often make running difficult for much of the year, and I can imagine the heat of a Phoenix, Arizona, or Macon, Georgia afternoon might make things difficult in the summer months. Weather aside, the constant stop and go at road crossings can also be maddening when running in urban settings – it often felt like I had to stop and wait for a light to turn every time I was getting into a rhythm. So, while this run had its novelties, I came away from this trip feeling lucky for the great running options which we have back in Vermont! The Google Earth projection of this run looks very different from my Vermont runs – note the expressways and high density of buildings!
For this run, I am returning to one of my favorite destinations, Silver Lake, the pristine pond perched on the hillside about a mile and a half above Lake Dunmore. I have noticed, and blogged about some sections of the pipeline connecting Silver Lake to the small hydroelectric plant just south of Branbury State Park. So, I thought it would be fun to follow this pipeline from start to finish, and this required that I start the run at the smaller unmarked parking lot just past the small bridge immediately south of Branbury Park, rather than the usual Falls of Lana parking lot. Beginning in this lot, I immediately headed towards the clearing where the pipeline completes its journey down from Silver Lake, and scrambled, rather than ran on the unmarked but easy to follow footpath which ascends alongside the pipeline. While the terrain really wasn’t good for true running, this ascent, rather than the more heavily traveled double track path most frequently used, had the advantage of an excellent view of the longest cascade in the tiered series of drops constituting the Falls of Lana. The area around the falls is a very cliffy, ledgy area with numerous opportunities for injury, so I found it interesting that of all the viewpoints, this was the only one with fencing to protect errant runners.
Shortly after this overprotective fencing, I joined the main trail, where I had the option of bushwacking up the steep hill, literally following the pipeline in what would be a steep scramble, or actually following the normal trail and rejoining the pipeline further up the hill where it ran a more runnable course. I chose the latter, and ran up the main Silver Lake trail for about a mile until I reached the point where a major trail broke off to the right, meeting up with the pipeline at the point where the tall venting tower easily seen from below juts out from the mountainside. Here, reading the signage, I learned a new word – “penstock” apparently what I had been calling a pipeline is also known by this noun as well! I also noted, the sign warning of dire consequences for walking on the penstock, right alongside a ladder used for…..climbing on the pentock!
From this point on, I had the opportunity to follow the penstock/pipeline across more level terrain, and in fact, the running was easiest right across the top of it, as long as I was careful not to trip over the bulges where segments of pipeline were jointed together. Much of this section was flanked by ferns, until I reached a point where the brush had been recently cleared. This portion of the run concluded at the base of the Silver Lake dam, Yes, Silver Lake, like Lake Dunmore, is a naturally occurring lake which has been enhanced in size and utility through the use of damming. Unlike Lake Dunmore, which was enlarged for recreational use, Silver Lake has more practical purposes – hydroelectric power and flood control!
Climbing to the top of the Silver Lake Dam, I followed the easy lakeshore path, until reaching the small beach, before taking the spur trail heading to the hike-in campground alongside this very scenic lake. At a small footbridge over a sluiceway, the second, less well known segment of this hydroelectric project becomes apparent. I was also surprised to see that this sluiceway, for the first time in my memory, was devoid of water. My suspicion was that with the incessant rains of the last month, water was being withheld or diverted to keep water levels in Silver Lake and/or Lake Dunmore at safe levels.
I tried to follow the side of this sluiceway, but the footing at it’s edge was not quite secure enough, so I doubled back and found a small trail which brought me back to the main Silver Lake trail/dirt road, and followed it up the hill for a few yards, reaching the point where the sluiceway submerged beneath the road from my right, and at this point I noted a small building to my left whose function was undoubtedly connected to this segment of the pipeline. I turned back into the woods at this point, mostly running along the high berm covering the pipeline, although in some sections, it seemed to submerge, rendering the trail more level. The running through here was very nice for about a mile, but the trail disappeared into the semi-open hillside eventually. I followed the cleared section paralleling Sucker Brook, but for this short stretch it was once again more of a bushwhack than a trail run, but this rough section only went on for about a quarter of a mile, when it joined a maintained dirt road which climbed up the hill in front of me. This wound its way up the hill to the little known body of water known as the Sucker Brook reservoir, not to be confused with the much larger Sugar Hill reservoir, which confusingly, is the further upstream source of Sucker Brook – got that? The Sucker Brook reservoir, which feeds this highest section of pipeline, and in turn, Silver Lake, has been more of a stagnant swamp than a pond in all of my previous visits, but the recent rains have swollen this body of water to the point that it was actually a rather pleasant place! The light rain on its surface, and the early summer daisies (my favorite wildflower!) starting to wilt as the midsummer Black-Eyed Susans came into bloom made for an attractive shoreline.
Continuing across the earthen dam forming this reservoir, I came to a surprise – a sign, in the middle of nowhere, telling the history of this dinky little pond! A fun fact – this small body of water was created in 1917, and at the time was the highest altitude earthen dam east of the Mississippi. Who knew? Especially since most outdoorspeople don’t even know it exists!
The run continued up a steep incline for a few hundred yards, until it joined the Silver Lake trail, and at this time, I decided I’d had enough of pipeline traipsing, so I took the easy way back to my car by taking the path of least resistance down to the Falls of Lana parking lot, and from there a short quarter mile run to the minor parking lot where my car was stowed. Overall, this was indeed a rather pleasant run, with a few short bushwacking or scrambling sections, a healthy dose of mud, and about 700-800 feet of climbing and descent in its 5.75 miles.
Sunday of course, was the Y-chromosome version of the two “family holidays”, namely, Fathers’ Day. So, after enjoying a pile of blueberry pancakes in bed (lovingly prepared by my daughter), complete with maple syrup which dripped off my fork and onto my t-shirt, followed by a few chores, I chose to spend part of the day on my own adventure before a planned evening of activities back with the Trailrunner family. For this weekend’s run, I chose a loop over the top of Mount Moosalamoo, including one section of trail I had never previously explored. To get to the trailhead, I drove up Rt. 125 towards the Snow Bowl, but took the right turn onto the Ripton-Goshen Road a short distance past beautiful downtown Ripton. A few miles down this well maintained dirt road, I took the right turn onto the road leading to the Moosalamoo Forest Service Campground. A few short weeks ago, I did a run from this same parking lot, but instead of the first bits of Spring greenery, I was treated to full summer foliage, replete with the first glimpses of roadside daisies, my favorite flower.
Arriving in the parking lot immediately before the campground loop I could see that the weather was getting a little bit gloomier, but short of an immediate downpour, I saw no reason not to enjoy the run! The first third of a mile or so meandered through the woods behind the campground, and joined an old lumber road for a short (and well marked) turn to the right, followed almost immediately by a left turn with a short steep descent down to the North Branch stream crossing bridge, the low point of the run.
From this point on, it was a relentless, but rarely steep uphill run for the better part of the next two miles.This particular climb features prominently in The Moosalamoo Ultra, a MUCH longer trail run which I featured in this blog last year. The trail angled along the side of Mt. Moosalamoo for most of the way, and the low ground cover combined with the mature hardwood forest accentuated the sloped appearance.
At the two mile mark, the road splits, with the right turn constituting the long descent of the Oak Ridge Trail, and the left turn heading towards the Moosalamoo Summit. About a quarter mile from the summit, my head turned ever-so-slightly and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a large and rather bold creature who burst out of the trees and over the grass, edging its way towards me. Holy mother of god! What is it? No, the words that were being screamed inside the crowded confines of my busy mind were not ones I would chose to print. So much for peace and quiet, right? Anyway, I turned and strained my eyes (I leave my glasses behind on runs) to confirm the status and stature of the intruder. A squirrel? A stray dog? Nope! It was a fully grown bear, coming rapidly towards me. I have seen bears a handful of times in my life, but this one did not turn and run away as all the others had – it was coming right at me.
Anyway! I wanted to just watch her (I am guessing it was a she/sow guarding cubs), and even briefly reached for my camera until I realized she was coming at me, fast! I made a noise and waved my arms on purpose to see what would happen. Death wish? I don’t think so. She stopped maybe 10 yards away and probably not interested in eating me. Right? As she reared on her hind legs, I figured it was time to get out of there, so I backed off slowly, facing the bear, shouting and waving my arms, and when I disappeared over a ridge a minute later, I resumed my run, admittedly at a much faster pace.
Reaching the first of the twin peaks a few minutes later, I warned a family out for an afternoon hike to make plenty of noise on their descent. I offered an alternate route which bypassed the bear-infested trail, but they decided, probably correctly, that they would be more likely to come to harm getting lost in the woods than they would meeting up with a bear. I haven’t heard of any missing or eaten persons, so I presume they got out just fine. In addition to a few minutes of good conversation, I came across another treat – there, lying in the trail, was a live Luna Moth! I had never seen one of these graceful behemoths of the insect world before, and didn’t even know that they were native to Vermont! Entymologists claim that they are actually pretty common, so I wonder why they are so shy?
Moving from the first summit, to the second summit which actually has better views, and after a short steep descent, I came to the trail which would complete my loop, the left turn onto the Keewaydin Trail. This trail, appearing on most of the maps of the region, is one which I had never hiked or run on previously, but looked like a convenient means of returning to my car in a loop run, rather than a simple “out and back” on the same trail. While the Keewaydin trail was very well marked, it had the wear more characteristic of a herd path or hunter’s trail, rather than a maintained trail. In some places, the trail was covered in soft spongy moss – a sure sign that it is almost never traveled on! While it was fine for hiking, as long as you don’t mind wet feet, it was very slow going from my runner’s perspective. Nonetheless, it is always fun going through new terrain. After about 2 miles of descent, I came to the road connecting the Moosalamoo campground with the Voter Brook overlook, and took a left turn for the easy run down the dirt road, returning to my car in what was now a drizzly afternoon. A few soggy campers huddled around smoky fires, but the campground was mostly empty.
This loop would make for a fun half day hike for most hikers, and took considerably less than that as a trail run, although the Keewaydin Trail section wasn’t great for runners. The run was only about 5 and a half miles, but did have close to 1200 vertical feet of climbing and descent. This was definitely one of the most exciting runs I have been on in a long time!
After what seemed like the better part of a week of cold, rainy weather, Sunday brought some gorgeous sun, so it seemed like a good day to blog a run. I knew going into things that the trails were going to be very muddy, so any desire for dry feet was going to be futile. In other words, what could be a better day for a low lying trail, alongside a river, which is muddy even in the driest spells of summer? In previous runs, I had described the run through Wright Park (just north of the newly renovated Pulp Mill Bridge on the east side of Otter Creek) in either a northern loop of the TAM (The Trail Around Middlebury), or incorporating this section of trail in the course of a complete circuit on the TAM. In both of these previous runs, upon reaching the Belden Dam, a few miles north of town, I continued straight towards the Morgan Horse Farm Road on the main loop of the TAM. I also knew, however, that there was a spur trail on the TAM that made a sharp turn after crossing the dam, and that the trail signage indicated that this trail headed into a gorge. Knowing nothing about what sights might be found, I decided to make this new stretch of trail the goal of this run.
I parked my car in the parking lot in front of the Freeman International Center (FIC) on the Middlebury College Campus. A bonus point to older readers who know the 3-letter acronym this building was previously known by – and yes, I have used this as a bonus question on college exams! I headed out on Weybridge St, took a right turn onto Pulp Mill Bridge Road, and ran through the covered bridge, before taking the immediate left turn past the old town dump towards Wright Park. On previous runs through Wright Park, I had taken the “high road” – namely, the section of trail which remained on higher ground in the meadows and forest. On this run, however, I decided to take the immediate left turn towards Otter Creek after entering the park, to enjoy the stretch of trail right alongside the river. Given recent rains, the Otter Creek appeared engorged with water, and some of this high water caused the trail footing to be muddy and slippery.
The roughness of this section of trail spoke to its lack of traffic, but in addition to the pleasures of running alongside the creek, it had a few other quirks, including a semi abandoned picnic table by the water, and a well-maintained wooden “zig-zag” bridge traversing a boggly inlet. After crossing this curious bridge, the trail entered some denser forest while remaining close to the waters’ edge. One warning to runners however – There are quite a few rocky slaps in the trail, which can be very slippery when wet – and they always seem to be wet! One skidding tumble leading to scratched and bruised shins early in the run forced me to watch my footing in subsequent sections. I reached the Belden Dam, a small hydroelectric plant, however, at about the 3 mile mark (measured from my parked car) and crossed the two small suspension bridges over the dam. Pausing for a moment, I enjoyed the sight of the swollen river being disgorged over the top of the dam to the narrow rocky chutes below. On the west side, I began to explore the section of trail that was new to me, taking the sharp right turn. I was not sure what I would see here – given that this section is referred to as the Otter Creek Gorge, I had hoped that the trail would bring me alongside some precipices, and was disappointed to find that this was really not the case – the gorge is indeed a wilder refuge than most of the land surrounding the generally gentrified Otter Creek, but staying on the trail did not manage any rocky gorge scenery. Nonetheless, I am planning on returning at some point to bushwack closer to the waters’ edge. Nonetheless, this was a muddy, but pleasant run through the woods, with a few brief streamside sections.
After following the creek for close to a mile to the north, the trail started to veer to the left, and eventually reversed its course on the higher, but no drier ground. As the trail emerged from the forest into a well-kept meadow, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that somebody had placed a bench and picnic table here!
Shortly after this meadow, I came to a split in the trail – the left fork would take me back to the Belden Dam, and the right fork emerged from the woods shortly onto the easier running of Morgan Horse farm road. While I hated to abandon the trail for the roads, I was running out of time, and needing to bring this run to a close, chose the more rapid return offered by finishing the day with a few miles on the road. It is not like I had suffer doing this, of course, as the Morgan Horse Farm road is one of the most scenic stretches of pavement in Addison County. I passed by the fine Georgian home which was once the home of former Middlebury College President (and the man who had the foolishness to allow for my hiring!), Olin Robison, before reaching yet another meadow vista, this one framing a view of Mt. Abraham in the distance.
At this point, it was starting to get pretty hot outside, and in due time, I was back to Pulp Mill Bridge Road, the Middlebury College Campus, and my waiting car. The entire loop covered about 7.8 miles, but took longer than expected due to slow going in many slipper sections. Nonetheless, it was indeed a gorge(ous) route, and I am looking forward to further exploring out here when things are a little drier!
With the above title, I probably have readers wondering if I had decided to channel my inner Forrest Gump on some sort of cross country running fantasy. While that would make for an amazing blog post, I am afraid this week’s posting is much more modest. I had the pleasure of spending time recently in San Diego, so while this post does indeed describe a run to the Pacific Ocean, it is from a starting point (my hotel room) which was considerably closer to the west coast than my usual starting points, say, Middlebury or Ripton. Since this was indeed an urban setting, the “trail” component is a bit of a reach, as the only trails in this run were on a bike path, and briefly, on the beach.
My hotel room was on Coronado Island, which strictly speaking, is a peninsula across San Diego Bay from the downtown district. It also bordered on a recreation/bike path which ran alongside the bay for about a mile and a half. This bike path is a real urban gem – it is used day and night by everything from avid runners (like me), to elderly walkers and their pets, and even the occasional happy couple on a bicycle built for two. And did I mention the view across the bay?
I started my run to the south side of the island, towards the towering Coronado Island Bridge, realizing that I was a mere 15 miles from the Mexican border. Since I didn’t have my passport with me, not today I guess! The path hugged to shore for a while before veering inland to pass around the obstruction provided by a large golf course, which usurped access to the shoreline. Well, at least it was a public course. The path returned to the shoreline, passing by numerous marinas before arriving alongside the landmark hotel known as the (how is this for original?) “El Coronado”, where Marilyn Monroe was filmed in the classic movie “Some Like it Hot”. I decided not to grace the interior of this classy joint with my sweaty self, so instead ran around it to get the view of the hotel from the beachside.
Since this was indeed a run to the Pacific, I took my shoes off, and ran headlong into the surf…..and froze dead in my tracks when I realized that the water temperature was in the 50’s this early in the season. Who knew the Pacific felt more like Maine than Florida? I stayed in the water, getting in no deeper than my knees, at least for now.
Putting my shoes back on, I resumed my run along the beach for about a half mile, enjoying the morning solitude before heading back inland, to run back to my hotel through the mostly residential side streets. I briefly entertained the notion that this might be a nice place to retire in 10 years or so. While I knew that the estates on the water would be far beyond my means, there were many cute little bungalows a mile or so from the water, that I naively thought might be financially feasible. I assumed that some of the homes which I knew would sell for about 250K in Vermont, might be million dollar homes here, but my jaw dropped when I saw one advertised for 4.8 million. Nope, retirement staying right here in Middlebury looks just fine thank you! Returning to my hotel room, this turned into a very pleasant, roughly 6 mile run. And since this was on a built-up barrier island, it was a very flat run. The San Diego weather lived up to its reputation as well – a daily high of about 72, and a low of about 62, with a constant cool breeze.
On yet another gorgeous Sunday afternoon, I decided to explore an area where I used to mountain bike regularly, but had not been to in a few years. While I used to be an avid mountain biker, a few summers in a row with crashes ending up with ribs which were “broken, sprained, strained, or tied up and twisted” (and it doesn’t make a difference which diagnosis you get, as the treatment is always “Ibuprofen, rest, and hurt for two months”) diminished my fervor for the sport, and actually led to my current focus on trail running. The area between Upper Plains Road and Lower Plains Road, which straddles the Middlebury-Salisbury town line is full of trails, which in the past seemed to be most heavily used by ATV’ers, but showed few signs of use on this run, at least not this early in the season.
I started the run at the parking lot at the East Middlebury playground, and headed past the Waybury Inn on Rt 125. Younger readers may not remember this, but a photograph of the Waybury Inn was used in the credits for the 1980’s Bob Newhart Show, where it was referred to as the “Stratford Inn“. After passing by the Inn, I headed over the bridge, and up the short steep hill known as Sand Hill, and took the right turn on a dirt road serving the highway department Quonset hut before reaching the top of the hill. Shortly after turning onto the Quonset hut dirt road, I took the broad grassy path veering to the left, and followed this to the first left turn. Another left turn brought me up a short steeper climb on a trail which appeared to have been built and actively maintained at some point, and left me wondering for what purpose it was built? It was too narrow to have been a logging road, and there were no signs indicating that it was or had been an active snowmobile trail. Reaching the height of this climb, I did a short bushwhack in the direction of Rt 125, and found a nice overlook at the top of the rock outcropping alongside the road at this point.
After this view, not entirely sure where I was going, I proceeded further uphill, until the path emerged from the woods, joining Upper Plains Rd near to the point where it empties into Rt 125. Not wanting to leave the trails just yet, I found a bear path (as in barely there) and went in a direction where I thought I might find some beaver ponds whose location was hinted at by Google Earth. Soon, the boggy terrain under my feet told me I was probably going to find what I was looking for, and sure enough, I came across an semi-open meadow with many fallen trees, and of course, a mound of sticks in the distance where the little engineers made their home.
As I turned around and backtracked my way through the mud, I caught site of the first wildflowers of the year. I will have to send a note to my botanical colleague at “The Middlebury Landscape” to ID this flower for me.
I also noted one of the more intact stone walls I have seen for some time. The woods in Addison County are full of these of course, but the mature state of the hardwood forest led me to guess that this is a rather old stone wall, and that the hill farm it probably served was long defunct, making the condition of the wall all the more remarkable.
Up to this point, a lot of what I have been referring to as trail running was really a mix of jogging, exploring, and even a little bushwhacking, and I sought a better defined trail to stretch out my legs a little more. Fortunately, at this point, I found a strong trail heading south, and spent a solid mile on it before it bore downhill to the right, and curved back to the start of the run. I was just beginning to wonder who actually owned this land, as there were no forest service or “Posted” signs, but as I neared the Quonset hut, I noted that the land to my left was suddenly heavily posted. Guess I won’t be going that way! Once I returned to the Quonset hut, I simply retraced my steps back into East Middlebury and my waiting car, for a 5.25 mile, and surprisingly, 400 vertical feet of climbing run.