Bushwhacking (verb). To travel through woods. Fun until it unequivocally is not; which usually occurs at precisely the point of no return, where turning back is as much a miserable idea as pushing forward. This is where we found ourselves last Sunday in the Green Mountains attempting a summit of Mount Snow from Haystack Mountain. But, before we continue, let’s rewind the tapes.
I’m full of half-baked, last minute weekend adventure ideas so the fact that I booked a campsite at the Greenwood Lodge in southern Vermont a few weeks out from Memorial Day weekend is a win for advanced trip planning in my book. We set out for the Green Mountain state at 5am on Saturday and checked in at the campground office a little after 1pm. Just enough time to setup camp and set out for a quick jaunt on the Appalachian Trail (Long Trail) before the dinner bell.
Memorial Day is the unofficial start to summer but that equates to mid-spring in New England, apparently. The higher peaks and ridges were still showing their winter browns as spring continues to march up the higher elevations. We parked the car off Rte 9 and set out on a stair master section of the Long Trail. The first three quarters of a mile were definitely a sweat-fest but the trail leveled off for the remaining mile and change to the overlook. It may not be summer but the mosquitoes and black flies are alive, well and persistent little bastards. Memories of the valley of death and dancing rock from last year’s trip in the high Sierras came flooding back when I paused to attempt a photo and was instantly swarmed by dozens of the largest mosquitoes I’ve ever seen!
We made it to the lookout but swarms of black flies didn’t keep us there for long, plus it was time to head down and get a fire going for dinner later, so after a quick water break and a few photos, we made good time back down to the car.
Dinner was a delicious tri-tip steak, grilled to perfection. We settled in for the evening and as the sun dipped over the horizon, the black flies dissipated and we were able to enjoy the fire’s warmth until our eyelids turned heavy. As we settled into the tent for the night, a light rain pitter-pattered on the tent. Perfect timing.
Sunday morning was foggy and surprisingly cold. Itching to get a jump on the day, we gobbled down breakfast, threw gear in the backpack and set out for a trailhead about 20 minutes drive from the campground. It was difficult to know what the weather was going to be for the day. Was the fog going to stick or would it eventually burn off? The conditions and lack of a paper map of the region’s trails, we picked a hike that would give us the option to go further if the weather cooperated.
The fog started to break around the time we pulled up to the trailhead to Haystack Mountain. Up on the ridge the trail turned to a muddy bog in sections but otherwise it was an easy push to the summit. The views were everything we hoped for. With the clouds breaking the temperature steadily climbed we had a decision to make. Push on along the ridge to Mount Snow or head back to the campground and hangout for the afternoon. We decided to make the three mile push to Mount Snow.
And this is where we find ourselves. The trail from Haystack Mountain started out fine but things quickly devolved. First, it was knee high bushwacking through pine saplings. Then it was thigh high. Waist high. Chest high.
We didn’t make it to Mount Snow. Bushwacking is all fun and games until it is not.
