A cross in the trail
The view from Harmon Hill, elevation 2325 feet, on the Long Trail in Woodford.
Over the last few years I have driven on Route 9 between Searsburg and
Bennington many times. And many of these times I have looked to see
where the Appalachian Trail cuts across the road in the Green Mountain
National Forest. Just looking from the road at 50 mph, I never could
determine where the crossing was. But lately I had become more
determined and took the obvious step of looking at a few maps. I
discovered that the AT crosses Route 7 in Woodford, around a bend in
the road not far east from the Woodford Elementary School.
On Saturday, Oct. 6, bursting with energy and with other plans having
fallen through, I drove to the AT crossing in the mid-afternoon. It was
a balmy autumn day with the foliage close to its peak. Not
surprisingly, there were many cars in the sizable parking lot. I
decided to take the trail south, toward Massachusetts. From Route 9 you
start up a steep and stony embankment. The huge boulders in many places
form something of a primitive stairway.
Sometimes I go into the woods to be alone and think, but today in such
a place I knew this would not be possible. There were hikers all over
the place. The first two men I met came down the hill talking about
molecular chemistry — I swear — but as soon as one of them saw my Red
Sox hat, he asked me how the Sox had done in the playoff game the night
before. I was happy to tell him that they won on a walk-off home run by
Manny Ramierez. He was very happy to hear this.
After about a half hour climbing up the steep slope I had to stop and
sit on a big rock next to the trail for a breather and some water. Some
more people came down the trail and we exchanged pleasantries. Up the
trail came a charming young woman with a black dog who had started up
the trail a few minutes after I did. We spoke briefly about the how
crowded the trail was and the beautiful foliage. Then, obviously in
good shape, she took off up the trail, quickly past some heavily laden
and slow-moving hikers.
About an hour later, finally atop the ridge, I ran into the woman with
the dog on their way back down. She said there was a very nice view not
far ahead. In a few minutes I came to a sign that indicted that I was
now on Harmon Hill, elevation 2325 feet, and 1.7 miles from where I had
parked on Route 9. There was a path leading off to the west from the
sign. Here I came to an open view to the east of Bennington and Mount
Anthony. I took out my digital camera, but taking a good photo of
Bennington would not be possible, because the valley was filled with
haze. Still, the Bennington Monument was visible in the distance. I did
manage to take a photo I like of the outline of Mount Anthony off in
the distance.
This spot was so beautiful that I stayed there until after 5 p.m. By
this time, there weren't many people around. The sky was overcast and
it was growing prematurely dark, so I decided to head back down the
trail. I didn't occur me that I might get caught in the rain, but just
after I had reached the steep part of the path down the mountain, I
heard a loud sound like wind in the trees. Only it wasn't the wind, it
was rain — a downpour. Then I was glad that I always carry a backpack
with extra stuff, including a rain poncho. I still managed to get
pretty wet as I fumbled to get the poncho out of my pack and onto my
body, but still I got back to my car a lot drier and warmer than I
would have been otherwise.
It was about 6:15 p.m. when I got back to my car. The hike had taken
about four hours. I noted with some amusement that it was 20 years to
the day after the great surprise blizzard of 1987 in the Northeast. I
had an adventure on that day, too, but that's a story for another
time...
Mark Rondeau
Local news editor