Day 8: Saturday - A short stop at home base

Corliss Camp to Johnson

I was looking forward to the luxuries and excesses of being in a town, and was more enthusiastic to get out of my cozy sleeping bag this morning than I have the other days. The two Vermonters were still dozing, suspended in their hammocks a metre off the ground as we folded up the tent and stuffed everything into our packs according to the morning routine we were now accustomed too.

Sleeping bag, check, khaki roll mat, check, random bag of clothes and bits and pieces, check. Billy slotted the red cups, yellow bowls nesting the fry pan lid and gas bottle neatly into the bottom of his pack in front of the purple tent bag.

First up was a steep, 2.7mi climb up Laraway Mtn to a beautiful breakfast spot, perched on a rare rock ledge free from the spruce-fir forest on the lower slopes of the mountain. Sky blue, and sun shining, it was great to take in the previous week of hiking as we sipped our coffees– we picked out the fire tower on Belvidere Mtn and could see Jay Peak further back again in the haze on the horizon.

A steep climb...

...rewarded by a great view

We started off down the steep northern slope of Laraway, the forest transforming from spruce-fir to northern hardwood of beech, birch and maple as we dropped below 2,500ft. It was fairly easy walking and enjoyable listening to the birds in the forest. As we don’t have a nature book with us, we’ve started naming them ourselves. There’s the Blues Bird, that has a melancholy tune and the Digital Warbler, that sounds like a radio dial being spun.

Coming back up from Codding Hollow we came across a huge rock overhang which made a great excuse for a rest break. 

It felt like we were nearing the end of our day, but a quick look at the map, and Billy confirmed that we had at least another 10km to Johnson, and a few more ups and downs. My shoulders sunk momentarily. I was ready for a bottomless cup of Coke now!

The last few climbs weren’t too bad, and were broken by toasted tortillas for lunch at Roundtop Shelter – one of the nicer shelters we’ve seen, made from logs from the surrounding mountains.

Roundtop Shelter

Well into maple country now, Billy made an attempt to suck dry the maple syrup lines strung up in the forest. Unfortunately, the veins of sugary goodness were dry, the sap that is converted from the starch stores in the tree's roots in the spring long gone by mid-summer.

Empty!

We took a shortcut around Prospect Rock, down leafy Prospect Rock Road passing an increasing number of houses nestled in the woods. It would be a pretty place to live during the summer, but even better in a cold Vermont winter, surrounded by snow!

Walking along Prospect Rock Road

We eventually emerged on the highway 1.8mi from town. Being so close put extra energy in my stride, and we quickly passed a maple factory and organic farms in pursuit of pub fare.

I immediately loved Johnson. Narrow and tall, long weatherboard houses lined the main street of this small town. There was a town hall, church, grocery store and a couple of pubs – including a place called Wicked Wings.

We devoured our first dinner – burgers, chips and a bottomless cup of Pepsi. I didn’t realize this at first. I finished my first glass and the bartender brought a new one. I thought maybe he’d misheard something I’d said, or that this was just part of the prompt American service culture. I finished the second glass, and before I could say anything, a third appeared. Feeling obliged to finish it, I downed another pint of Pepsi. It was then that Billy explained that I’d just have to leave a partially drunk cup. Lucky he did, as I was starting to fizz with a sugar high!

Dinner - round 1

First pints of ice-cream!

First world problems, huh. We were also working through another problem. Where to stay. We had contacted all of the suggestions in our Long Trail guide and everything was full. After a dash across the street, and a chat with a few locals at the bar, we worked out the only option was to head out to the Long Trail Tavern, a couple of km’s out of town, and camp outside.

I wasn’t looking forward to walking again, but felt a bit better after all the Pepsi. We went back along the road past the organic farms and maple syrup factory and met Jeremy, the new owner of the Long Trail Tavern. He took us down to a grassy clearing by the river where we could put our tent for the night. The bugs were vicious, but it was somewhere!

Better refuge was found at the warmly lit bar, eating our second dinner (pizza and pints of Long Trail Ale) next to the neon signs on the front windows, and talking baseball with Jeremy as his team played on the big screen in the background.

There are two competitions in the US, the American League and the National League. Between serving other locals beers from the wide range of taps behind the bar, Jeremy explained that the only difference is whether the pitcher bats. I was confused by this at first – but then he explained that often opposition pitchers send down body shots to injure a team’s pitcher when batting. Ouch. But also crazy that the two organisations couldn’t come to an agreement and bring the sport together.

The two leagues merge in the Major Baseball League and World Series playoffs each year. I was also amazed that each team plays over 160 games in 6 months! That’s almost a game a day. We talked a bit about the similarities with cricket – that you don’t always pitch/bowl to get an out. That both games can be highly strategic and play on the relationship between the pitcher/bowler and batter.

It was the perfect way to spend the evening – beers, pizza & baseball.  The American way of life is not so bad.