Rocky Mountain National Park Day 1: Bridal Veil Falls

We were up early for the long drive to Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park.  The drive was a beautiful one, climbing over several mountain passes and through vast stands of pine trees.  We stopped for some coffee and a cinnamon roll in a quaint little town on the way.  Everyone seemed to be buzzing with holiday weekend energy, with the 4th of July fast approaching.  Every campground we drove by, and most boat launches and picnic areas were crowded.  We couldn't help but wonder how crowded a national park would be during the holiday weekend!  

We drove with the top off the Jeep for a while, until a light rain forced us to pull over and put the top back on.  It was the first rain we had seen in 24 days!  After being in the desert for so long, the cool air, clouds and even rain were welcome!

For lunch, we stopped at a small brewery in Boulder, the Southern Sun Brewery.  Boulder looked to be a really fun city, with many breweries, restaurants, and outdoor gear shops.  The brewery had a wide variety of craft brews and great food with some really good vegetarian options.  The strong craft brews were more than welcome after 3 weeks of Utah beers. 

By the time we drove into Estes Park, it was after 6 PM.  The road into the town provided a spectacular view of the "front range" of the Rocky Mountains.  Some of the peaks still had snow clinging to the rocky faces.  Approaching it from above, Estes Park seems to be in  bowl, ringed by massive mountains on three sides.  

We stopped at the grocery store in town for a few last minute supplies before looking for a campground.  While we were in the store, an intense thunderstorm rolled into the valley.  Sheets of heavy rain poured down, sending folks sprinting for their cars from the store.  It was our first mountain storm of the trip.

Not surprisingly, the national park campgrounds were all full for the night.  Disappointed, we drove around Estes Park looking for another place to pitch a tent.  We ended up at a Larimer County Park on St. Mary's Lake.  It was a small campground that had packed way too many campers in for the night.  We had been spoiled by beautiful national park campgrounds throughout our trip, and found the cramped conditions and sparse vegetation depressing.  We ate cheap pizza in the dark, hatching our plan for the morning. 

The alarm went off at 6 am.  We hurriedly packed up our campsite, ate the leftover cold pizza and headed for the Moraine Park Campground in RMNP.  The national park has been doing heavy construction in the park the past two seasons, and as a result, one full campground has been closed.  The Long's Peak campground, intended for climbers heading up the signature mountain, has a three-night limit. This left only the Moraine Park Campground on the East Side of the park, and within that campground, only one loop was available first-come, first-served.

Landing one of these sites can be be a real challenge, as campers have until noon to depart the campground, but could head out at any moment.  There is no waiting system, either.  It's simply a matter of whoever happens to be closest to a site when its vacated.  The whole scene has kind of a "black friday" vibe to it.

We circled the campground, likes sharks, eyeing each site that looked to be packing up.  We spotted a site that was empty, but had a tag on the post.  I jumped out of the Jeep to check the tag.  It was blank.  I had no idea what a blank tag meant.  I told Mary to drive up to the headquarters and ask if this site was available, while I made sure no one else grabbed it.  While she was doing this, a park employee came by, checking tags.  He looked at the blank tag and approached me.  "You need to fill this out!" he said emphatically.  I explained that it wasn't my tag, and asked if that meant the site was available.  He took the blank tag, and said it was fair game.  

As soon as Mary returned, we filled out our own tag, dropped the payment envelope in the box at the headquarters and set up our tent.  We figured possession was nine tenths of the law in this situation.  

No sooner had we finished setting up camp, when a woman with Missouri plates pulled up to our site and leapt out of the car, yelling accusations at us.  She seemed to think that we had poached her site while she was away.  I explained that the tag was blank, and no one had any way of knowing it was taken.  She drove off in a furry.  We both wondered if it would be safe to leave our campsite unattended for the next few hours.

Fortunately, the woman came back later and apologized for yelling at us.  She admitted that she had failed to fill out the tag, and even better, said that she found another campsite.  Our feelings of guilt assuaged, we could finally enjoy the campsite.  It was a beautiful site, with views of snow-capped mountains rising above it and plenty of privacy.  

Campsite issues resolved, we were eager to take a hike in such a beautiful landscape.  We headed for the Cow Creek Trailhead, north of town for our first hike.  The road to the trailhead was more picturesque than many hikes I have done. We followed a dirt road past expensive houses, and eventually some ranches, climbing high above Estes Park.  When we arrived, the trailhead was crowded with parked cars.  Ours was the only car without Colorado plates, always a good sign!

The hike crossed the waters of Cow Creek on a sturdy bridge, before passing a number of cabins and other structures used by the park service for visiting researchers.  Beyond this small village, the path passed through open meadows, ringed by rocky outcrops on three sides.  The meadows were teeming with beautiful wildflowers, and a scattering of aspen and pine trees provided occasional shade.  

The trail climbed gradually for the first couple of miles, and we passed many hikers along the way.  Everyone seemed to be in great spirits for the holiday weekend.  A couple of families we passed were lugging backpacks up the trail, heading out for an over-night trip.  One group had forgone the backpacks, and were just carrying armfuls of camping equipment as they hiked.

The last mile or so of the trail was much harder.  In several places, the trail climbed large, inclined rocks.  I had to use my hands in many places to avoid slipping and falling.  Stone steps placed by trail crews made the climbing easier in other spots.  The further we climbed, the more the rock walls closed in around us on both sides.  The open meadows at the beginning of our hike were replaced with a steep canyon that blocked out the sun.

The falls themselves were well-worth the tricky climb.  Bridal Veil Falls is the tallest drop in the park, at twenty feet.  In reality, however, the falls were much bigger than this.  Water slid across a rock slide both above and below the free-fall portion of the drop.  In all, water looked to fall at least a hundred feet over the course of less than a quarter mile.  

We rock-hopped across the base of the falls, enjoying the thick mist that soaked our clothes.  The skies overhead had grown dark, and a cold wind was now blowing down from the mountains above.  Was it raining?  It was hard to tell if we were just feeling the spray from the falls, or if it had started to rain.  The crashing water was loud enough to drown out any thunder.  

Safely on the other side of the falls, we stared a difficult scramble along a dirt path that climbed alongside the waterfall. It was slow going, but after about 100 feet of climbing, we were rewarded with a stunning view, looking down on the falls and into the steep canyon we had just hiked up.  We started to pull out our lunches, but the unmistakable crack of thunder interrupted the tranquil scene.  We were nervous about making the tricky down climb on wet rock, so we descended back to the base of the falls.  

The weather appeared to hold for a while, so we ate our lunch below the falls.  Patches of sun shown through the dark clouds.  After eating, we packed up and began the hike out.  We picked our way carefully down the steep, rocky sections of the hike.  We were grateful to have dry rock underfoot for this harder section of hiking.

The rest of the hike back to the trailhead was an easy stroll.  The storm that had held off for so long finally arrived while we were hiking, but it was brief.  By the time we returned to the Jeep, the sun was shining brightly and the air felt cool and dry. Our first hike in Rocky Mountain was a great introduction to the finicky mountain weather that is common here. 

We returned to our campsite to make dinner, nervously watching the procession of dark clouds that seemed to drift in from the mountains above us.  The skies threatened throughout the evening, but it would stay dry for the rest of the holiday.  

After eating, we drove into town and found a spot to watch the fireworks show.  The night air was cool, and the weather held off while we relaxed on the city golf course, watching the explosions over Estes Lake.  It was funny to think that last year we had gone to watch fireworks from a city park in Manchester Center, Vermont, during our Long Trail Hike.  From watching fireworks in the Green Mountains to the Rocky Mountains, we certainly have been fortunate to see so many cool places in the past year!  

Moab/Canyonlands Day 1

After finishing our backpack in Bryce Canyon we headed for the General Store by Sunset Point for much needed showers.  The store had coin operated showers for $2.  Knowing that we had a long drive ahead of us, we re-packed the Jeep in a way that allowed us to  take the top off without any of our stuff blowing away.  It was cool and cloudy in Bryce while we unpacked and then re-packed the Jeep.  At one point, all of our possessions were scattered along the sidewalk in front of the general store.  Folks walking by looked at us like transients, which I guess we kind of were.

Once showered and packed back up we headed off towards Moab.  We decided to take a more scenic route than the long, barren drive  we had taken on I-70 on the way out.  By taking side roads, we we would be able to drive through much of the Grand Escalante Staircase National Monument, and some of Capitol Reef National Park.  

The route did not disappoint.  The road climbed  relentlessly through bizarre rock formations as we drove east then climbed to over 10,000 feet of elevation in places. The astounding views seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth.  It was hard not to be impressed with the civil engineers that designed and built these roads- roads which were in far better shape than Michigan's highway system.  Considering the brutal landscape that had to be tamed in the construction of this path, it must have been quite a feat.  

Approaching Boulder, Utah, the road made a dizzying descent down the face of rock walls.  Sheer drop-offs on either side of the road made for white knuckle driving.  Just past Boulder we found a great place for lunch.  

The Hell's Backbone Grill was like an oasis in the desert for us.  Located right off of the highway on the outskirts of Boulder, the grill served eclectic and delicious fare in a beautiful setting.  We enjoyed a very late breakfast (always the best meal of the day) with organic eggs, fair trade coffee, potato pancakes and homemade bread and jams.  We were completely stuffed by the time we got back on the road. 

Past Boulder, the road cut a beautiful path through groves of cottonwood trees with scatterings of free-range cattle on green hillsides.  The weather was cool and breezy, with dark clouds brewing on the horizon.  It was weather more fit for Michigan, and made us feel at home while driving.

The drive through Capitol Reef National Park was  reminiscent of our time in Zion, but on a smaller scale.  Red rock formations towered over the road in places, and groves of cottonwood trees and a lush, green landscape adorned the small stream that flowed along the road.  We stopped for a few photos along the highway and to stretch our legs.

Beyond Capitol Reef, the terrain became truly bizarre.  Eventually, there were no trees to be seen, and towering, gray rock formations stood sentinel on both sides of the road.  After we made the turn north for I-70, the terrain opened up and became flat and barren.  Red mesas shimmered in the distance, and the road stretched into the horizon.  Even the 65 mph limit seemed inadequate while cruising the flat terrain.

The skies continued to darken while we drove, and we wondered if taking the top off of the Jeep was going to be a mistake.  Luckily, the weather forecast proved accurate, and we never saw the precipitation held by the dark skies.  

We arrived in Moab in the evening.  The air was thick and heavy as we drove through down Main Street.  Moab looked to be a very fun town, with eclectic eateries, coffee shops, outfitters, gear shops, art galleries and a brewery.  Thanks to the advice of a Moosejaw employee back home we had a campsite in mind for the night.  We headed out of town on a side road, but before the directions could take us to our destination we spotted a different BLM (Bureau of Land Management) campground on the side of the road.  This campground had ten sites situated right on the shores of the massive Colorado River.  We couldn't resist camping on water for the night.

After setting up camp, we headed back into town for some dinner at Miguel's.  Miguel's is a well-known mexican establishment.  They had nothing but glowing reviews online, and there fish tacos were voted number one by Outdoors Magazine, so we figured we couldn't go wrong.  The reviews were right.  We had a delicious dinner of potato flautas and mahi mahi tacos.

By the time we returned to camp, the skies had cleared some, and we crashed in our tent under the canopy of stars and black canyon walls.  The campsite next to us was staying up late drinking and listening to music.  We fell asleep to the hits of the 80's.

In the morning we grabbed a light breakfast and did some grocery shopping in town before heading for Canyonlands National Park.  Canyonlands is a massive park, with three distinct areas, or districts.  Our first destination was the Island in the Sky District, to the north of Moab.  

Island in the Sky is aptly named, as the bulk of the park sits on a large mesa.  This relatively flat piece of land is bordered by the Green River on one side and the Colorado River on the other.  The rivers meet to the south of the park, trapping the landmass high above it.  To the north, a tiny isthmus of land, called the neck, connects the mesa to the surrounding land.  Ranchers once used this area to hold cattle, as only the tiny neck needed to be secured in order to trap large herds of cattle on the island.  

Willow Campground is the only campground in the park.  We arrived to find it already full for the night, so we headed back out of the park in search of a place to camp.  About ten miles past the park boundary, we found a BLM campground called Cowboy Camp with space.  

Cowboy Camp turned out to be much more impressive than Willow.  With only 7 isolated sites situated on an open ridge overlooking miles of open desert, the campground was the perfect place for solitude near a national park.  We set up our campsite and changed into hiking clothes. 

It was late afternoon by the time we reached  the trailhead for our hike.  I was hoping to hike in the cooler part of the day, but it was still in the 90's when we stepped off down the trail for the Neck Spring Loop.

The Neck Spring Trail is a 6 mile loop that traverses the arid terrain of Island in the Sky, while passing by a couple of springs.  The hike left the parking lot, crossing the park road before beginning its descent into a small canyon.  Rock cairns, or piled up rocks left by rangers to indicate the path, allowed us to find our way through the desert scrubland.  

As we hiked, the sun bore down with surprising intensity for so late in the day.  The trail was mostly an easy-to-follow dirt path along the side of a canyon.  Occasionally, it would need to cross a wash and climb up the other side.  In these places, we would have to climb down large rocks steps or scurry over stretches of slick rock.  At the bottom of the canyons, we found dried-out washes and lush, green evidence of water everywhere.  The shade of the small trees was more than welcome in the afternoon heat.

Gradually, the trail made its way around the loop.  As it began to climb up the canyon wall towards the road we slowly acquired more and more shade. A relatively easy hike suddenly turned difficult, as the trail turned left and up.  A ten minute stretch climbed almost vertically up large stretches of slick rock towards the rim of the canyon.  A few sections required using hands and feet to climb.

The view on the rim was more than worth the effort, however.  We were back in the sun, but it was setting quickly, and the air was becoming cooler as we hiked.  The setting sun bathed the mesas and canyons in a golden hue while we hiked back towards the parking area.  Two huge jackrabbits ran across the trail.  They seemed to be enjoying the evening shade on the rim. 

Eventually the trail crossed the road and made its way north to the parking lot.  The views into the canyons was astounding, awash in light and shadows of a setting sun.  We stopped to sit on a large rock outcrop for a while in order to take in the grandness of the terrain.  It was impossible not to feel small in such a vast landscape.  

We drove back to camp just in time to watch the last shreds of sunlight melt into the horizon.  We cooked dinner in the now cool air while the skies grew dark.  A steady breeze blew across the desert.  They were dream-like conditions for camping.  

After dinner, we sat around camp and watched the stars come out.  It was one of the best night skies of our trip.  Stars stretched almost from one horizon to the other.  

We are just getting acquainted with Canyonlands National Park, but already I can tell that I am going to remember this vast and remarkable landscape.  

Summer Travel Plans

After months of deliberation, we've finally decided on our 2013 summer plans.  I can't recall a winter in which we spent so many hours working on a trip, only to run into a dead end and have to start over.  Issues such as permit availability, timing of snow melt and the availability of mass transit in certain parks have derailed our plans multiple times.  The plan usually starts out as a grandiose trip idea, and then as I learn about the destinations, I decide that each one needs more time to be fully explored.  The trips get paired down into something more manageable this way.  Now that we are only three weeks away - we have settled on some destinations. 

We will head out of town on June 7th and race the sunset to the west in our Jeep.  We'll make the long drive to Zion National Park in Utah.  After Zion, the trip will take us gradually east, allowing us to explore Bryce Canyon National Park, Canyonlands National Park, Arches National Park, Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park and Rocky Mountain National Park.  We'll do some front-country camping and day hiking in each park, along with some backpack trips in most of the parks.  I'll beginning to learn about hiking and camping in a desert environment and preparing myself for the first scorpion or rattlesnake sighting!

All told, we'll spend six weeks out west, before returning home for a night.  We'll head north to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore for a week of relaxed camping on the shores of Lake Leeland with family.  Next, we'll head further north, to the cold waters and quiet forests of Lake Superior Provincial Park in Ontario.  The plan is to take a five day paddle trip on Lake Miji, in the park's interior.

On the drive home, we'll meet up with some more family in St. Ignace for a couple of days, including a visit to Mackinaw Island.  We'll be home for a full week while I teach a high school band camp, before heading out again.  Our last destination of the year will be to Vermont for the next 100 miles of the Long Trail.  This section will take us from Sherburne Pass to Smuggler's Notch - arguably the most challenging and most scenic stretch of the nation's oldest thru-hike.

I'll be blogging about all of it, of course. I hope you'll follow along, as we trek from high desert mesas to dark slot canyons, across wildflower-covered meadows beneath snow-capped peaks and along calm, quiet waterways in the paths of loons and otters.  All the way to the summit of Mount Mansfield in Vermont, it should be a grand adventure! 

Smokies Days 4 and 5

We made the scenic drive on TN-32 out of Deep Creek, happy to be off our feet for a while. Mary remarked "look, we're going so FAST!" 32 is one of those roads that makes you question the engineers that had the nerve to design a road in this manor. Either that, or praise their competency in crafting a route through the mountains that saved us a trip on the Interstate. Conspicuously lacking guard rails, the road is not only never straight, it is rarely level from side to side. The 35 mph speed limit seems like a joke. Who could handle these hairpin turns any faster?

Eventually the road hooked up with the parkway and we cruised into Gatlinburg. As excited as we were for showers and a comfortable bed, we were dreading the experience of visiting the greatest tourist trap ever created. Gatlinburg has more ways to waste an unwise tourist's money than any place I've been unlucky enough to see. Haunted houses, Ripley's believe it or nots , magic shows, carnival games and freak shows line the streets of this eyesore. At Cosby Knob we had asked two thru-hikers what the oddest thing they had seen in their month on the trail was. After some consideration, they both agreed: Gatlinburg.

We found a reasonably-priced hotel room, and took full advantage of hot showers, scrubbing off the mud that was caked onto our bodies. Gatlinburg does have a couple of restaurants worth braving the sea of tourists. For dinner we hit the Mellow Mushroom. This pizza joint is in my top 5, and also has a huge draft beer selection. In the morning we visited the Pancake Pantry for breakfast. With a line that sometimes wraps around the block, Pancake Pantry is very popular, and for good reason. They specialize in giant plate sized orders of Crepes. We split the raspberry peach Crepes.

Having satisfied our cravings, we eagerly fled Gatlinburg and returned to the National Park. We couldn't quite bring ourselves to strap the backpacks on again so soon, so we elected for a front country campsite. Elkmont campground is run on a first-come, first-served basis this time of year and we had no trouble securing a campsite. We set up our new tent and organized our gear for some day hikes. Our site provided views of both the mountains and a pleasant, babbling stream that fed the Little River.

We decided to take advantage of the proximity of the Little River trailhead and take a pleasant stroll up the Little River trail. Our hike followed the raging creek up-stream for three miles, past countless waterfalls joining the creek from both sides of the ravine. The skies were partly cloudy and the air crisp and cool, probably in the low 50's. There was something very relaxing about not being in a hurry and having time to absorb the tranquility of the forest. A few brave wildflowers were beginning to appear on the hillsides, proof that spring was actually coming.

We ate our lunch on a couple of large rocks on the riverbank, doing our best to ignore the family that decided the best way they could enjoy nature was to lob rocks into the creek.

After our hike we heated up some dehydrated Mac and cheese for dinner. The campground was less than half-full and a laid-back atmosphere permeated the place. Obviously the type of folks camping in this cold spring weather are more likely to be mellow, seeking a quiet experience in nature.

We crawled into our down sleeping bags and opened our books. Mary quipped that I looked like a happy caterpillar in my sleeping bag. Funny as the comment was, it was a true. I couldn't imagine a more comfortable place in the world. The quiet of the woods was only broken by the soft music from our neighbor's campsite: Mumford and Sons, Avette Brothers, The Civil Wars - good taste!

Shortly before we turned off our headlamps the call of a barred owl sounded through the campground. It was quickly answered from across the river, and for the next few minutes we were treated to a cacophony of hoots and howls. It sounded like they were having a party in the woods.

In the morning we slept in, avoiding the cold morning air in favor of our warm sleeping bags. When we finally crawled out of the tent we were greeted by blue skies, warming sunshine and birdsong. We cooked up some oatmeal and coffee while planning our day. We elected for the Abrams Falls trail. I had avoided this hike due to its popularity, but now seemed like a good time to try it out. The trails in higher elevations would be an absolute mess with all of that snow melt, and any trail with a noteworthy stream crossing would be out.

The hike was beautiful, but beyond crowded. In multiple places we had to stop and wait for the traffic jam in front of us to clear to proceed. The trail followed beautiful Abrams Creek for 2.5 miles, occasionally climbing a few hundred feet above the water, offering views of the low ridges west of Cades Cove. The falls themselves were impressive. A single drop of probably 20 feet, Abrams Falls carried a high volume of water, providing for an impressive water show. A sign on the riverbank warned that there have been five deaths in the falls. We ate our lunch by the falls before making the return hike.

After arriving back at the trailhead we drove back into town to a convenience store for some cold beverages and a bag of potato chips. We enjoyed hot soup with our chips and beer at our campsite. Jealous of our neighbors campfire, we decided to splurge on a bundle of wood from the camp store. The wood was dry and burned quickly, offering a chance to warm up before we hopped into our sleeping bags. Just as the fire was burning out Mary spotted a bird gliding silently beneath the trees in the campground. One of the Barred Owls we had heard the night before landed in a tree near us. I always feel thrilled when I'm lucky enough to see these mysterious creatures in the wild. The owls would continue to talk throughout the night.
We returned to our sleeping bags and our books ready for another quiet night in the forest.

Eulogy For a Tent

I can still remember the first time I got into it.  The tent had been a birthday gift from Mary in January, but we waited until we had a sleeping bag and pad that fit before we tried it out.  It was a couple of weeks before our first backcountry trip when the two-person, down filled bag arrived in the mail.  We decided to set the Marmot Earlylight backpacking tent in the living room of our apartment just to try it out.  It was a 2 person tent, provided the two people really liked each other, a domed tent with pumpkin orange sides and an entirely screen top.  With the rain fly off, it provided great site lines in all directions.  Our Big Agnes 2 person sleeping bag fit perfectly.  I was able to lie on my back and extend my legs completely without pushing against the far wall.  I remember us laying there in our apartment, trying to imagine what it would be like sleeping on a mountain, our two cats peering in curiously from outside the new contraption.

The first voyage was quite a bit less cozy.  We spent the inaugural night in our new digs on an exposed ridge in Shenandoah National Park during a severe thunderstorm.  The winds howled in ever increasing gusts that threatened to tear the tent in two.  We cowered inside; imagining every noise in the dark of the woods was a bloodthirsty bear stalking towards us.  Needless to say, we didn’t sleep a wink!

We would go on to have better nights in the Marmot tent.  Some of my favorites: sleeping beneath the towering mass of Rising Wolf Mountain in Glacier National Park, watching the sun melt into the horizon from the summit of Killington on the Long Trail in Vermont, waiting out days worth of rain in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota, the rain eventually soaking our every piece of equipment.  On Isle Royale, camped at East Chickenbone Lake, we listened to a pair of Great Horned Owls call back and forth over our tent.  At Seawall Campground in Acadia National Park, our tent was shelter from a terrifying storm that blasted the Atlantic Coast, taking two lives in neighboring New Hampshire. 

In all we’ve spent over a hundred nights in the Marmot Earlylight.  It’s been our home away from home in the north woods of Canada, the mountains of Appalachia and along many a lakeshore.  I can’t help but wonder how many woodland critters have scurried or lumbered past it, pausing to sniff its contents while we slept. 

It has been a good tent, but its time has come and gone.  Holes have appeared in the screen, an unforgivable weakness during mosquito season!  Nostalgia aside, I am always eager to pick out new gear and take advantage of advances in technology.  That said, our next tent may be lighter and may be roomier, but it will have a lot of nights to log to catch up to this one!     

Quechee Gorge

 After leaving Burlington we elected to drive around Vermont and visit some of the interesting places we had driven past while shuttling vehicles between North Troy and Williamstown.  One such place was the Quechee Gorge, in the mid-east part of the state.  The Quechee Gorge is a rock canyon about 100 feet deep.  The Ottauquechee River flows at the bottom of this gorge and has been slowly carving an ever deeper path through the canyon for thousands of years.  US 4 passes over the gorge on an impressive bridge that provides a birds-eye view of the river below.  Traffic tends to slow down drammatically as people drive across and gawk at the sudden, and often unexpected view.  Just east of the bridge is a state park with pleasant camp sites set in a stand of very tall pine trees. 

We decided to camp for two nights at the state park so we could explore the surrounding area and attractions.  Being a weekend, the park was packed with families camping.  Luckily, we were able to get one of the few sights still available.  The heat wave that had been plaguing most of the nation had finally found its way to Vermont and temperatures were in the 90's for several days. 

After setting up our camp sight we drove to nearby Bridgewater Corners and the home of Long Trail Brewing for a tour and some tasting.  Long Trail Brewing is a neat company.  All of their products are themed around the Long Trail, and the brewery is located just a few miles from where the trail crosses US 4.  We sampled some of their products, and then purchased some to take home with us.  Long Trail is only distributed in the East, meaning this would be our only chance to buy it for a while.  Their feature brew is Long Trail Ale, a very drinkable beer.  They also had a number of pale ales and IPA's on draft for the summer.  This was one of the more interesting breweries I have been to thus far. 

Next we drove back to the campsite, changed into our swim wear and took the self-guided interpretive trail to the base of the gorge, looking to cool off.  Just below the last set of rapids the river mellowed out, forming several large pools suitable for swimming.  Reaching the river required carefully climbing over some unusual rock formations formed by the river at higher levels.  The hillside above the rock walls was littered with evidence of Hurricane Irene.  I could imagine this gorge would have been an amazing, and terrifying place to be during last year's storm.  We swam in the cool waters and enjoyed being out of the heat for a while.  The canyon's steep walls blocked the sun most of the day, so the water was surprisingly cold and refreshing. 

That night we fried up some veggie burgers that we had purchased at the whole foods store in Burlington on our backcountry stove while listening to the Tigers game on my IPhone.  Not a bad way to spend a beautiful summer night.  The skies were clear, meaning we were able to leave the rain fly off our tent so we could enjoy the night skies.   In the middle of the night we were awoken by the sound of something large romping through the forest behind our campsite.  Later we heard crashing sounds coming from the dumpster at the entrance of the park.  The nighttime visitor stayed away from our tent, so we were content to go back to sleep for the night. 

In the morning a park employee came around to inform everyone that a black bear had visited the campground the previous night, and that it was imperative we take care of all of our food and food scraps each night.  It was somewhat surprising that this campsite would have bear problems, as it was not exactly wilderness!  We were careful with out food, but secretly we were both hoping to catch a glimpse of the bear if it came back.

After breakfast we filled our day packs with snacks and water and took a scenic drive to the Ludlow area in order to climb Mt. Okemo.  A ski hill that sits across the valley from Killington, Okemo is a moderate climb with a fire tower at the summit.  By the time we were on the trail, temperatures had climbed into the 80's.  The climb was only 3 miles, but it did go up 1900 feet, and the heat was stifling.  We huffed and puffed our way along the trail as it used a series of switch backs to climb up the steep hillside.  For climbing almost 2000 feet the trail was surprisingly easy.  I would recommend this hike for most people on a cooler day, especially in the fall when the trees change.  Almost all of the hike was through a deciduous forest that would make for spectacular fall colors. 

Upon reaching the summit we climbed the fire tower and enjoyed our lunch along with a hiker from Massachusetts who was already at the top.  The views were pretty good, although most of the mountains in the distance were cloaked in a thick haze.  It was almost as if the heat was visible in the skies.  After a lengthy lunch break we headed back down the trail.  The downhill went quickly and easily, and we enjoyed the forest scenery much more on the way down.

When we arrived at the Jeep we found that it was even warmer out of the forest.  The thermometer on the dash read 95 as we drove through Ludlow.  Not ready to head back to our campsite yet on such as hot day we found a coffee shop with air-conditioning in town.  We escaped the heat for a couple of hours while catching up on some reading. 

Once it had cooled down a bit we drove back to the campsite, taking a different scenic route this time.  Driving around Vermont is an activity in of itself, as all of the roads are required to climb up, over, around and down mountains to get anywhere.  The countryside here is very much like it is portrayed in popular culture.  I couldn't help but think of Bob Newheart's place, or perhaps the town of Redbud in the Chevy Chase film "Funnyfarm," rickety, covered bridge and all!

That night we listening to the bear digging through the dumpster for a while before falling to sleep.  We still did not get a look at our nighttime visitor, but judging by the sounds of his or her search for food, I'm guessing this bear isn't going anywhere until they put in some bear-proof garbage containers, or relocate it. 

The next morning we paid a visit to the Vermont Institute of Natural Science (VINS), located less than a mile from the campsite and the gorge.  VINS is a natural science center that specializes in housing and rehabilitating birds of prey that become injured.  We arrived just in time to catch the last half of a live show.  The employees brought out a number of birds to show the audience.  Some of them were even trained, and could fly from one employee's glove to another on command.  After the live show we walked the grounds and saw the large collection of birds housed there.  Included were Bald Eagles, Golden Eagles, a variety of hawks and falcons, Great Horned Owls, Barred Owls, Barn Owls, Screech Owls, Great Gray Owls, and my favorite, Snowy Owls.  VINS does some pretty fascinating work to help injured birds, and this was definitely worth the visit. 

After leavin the Quechee Gorge area we are planning to pay a visit to the nearby White Mountains in New Hampshire.  The opressive heat is making camping difficult, but it is nice to visit some of these places while we are so close!  We'll contine to hope for a cool down in the weather.

Driving Home

After way too many hours in the car we passed the Van Riper State Park around 7:30 and decided to call it a day. Happily there was no one camping in the entire park, being a Monday Night. Most importantly, there were no flies ruining the experience . We had the campsite about half set up when the rumble of thunder warned of coming rain. Our Kelty 16 foot tarp came in handy, covering the fire pit, picnic table and tent. As the tap-tap of light rain hit the tarp we feasted on veggie burgers, corn on the cob and foil packets of veggies and potatoes cooked in the fire. The rain was short lived and left time for some swimming in Lake Michigamme as night fell. We wrapped up the night with s'mores by the campfire as the stars came out.
Today we were up and on the road by 8 am. It has been the perfect day for driving. Last night's cold front left behind cool temps and occasional showers. It's always sad to drive south on the Mackinac Bridge, but knowing we'll be back in less than a week helps. Now we get a few days to do laundry and pack our packs for the coastal trail. Here are a couple of pictures, one of our elaborate tarp set up in the rain last night and the other of the Manistique River we drove over on the scenic route home.