Vermont: 24 hours to love!

Before leaving Bennington VT, I find Willow Park to check out the nine-hole disc golf course.  Nice park, humble course.  Hanging signs on wooden posts act as tees.  On each sign, the original pictures are ‘X’ed out with a marker, and someone has drawn updated diagrams with arrows depicting the paths from tees to baskets, along with proper distances and pars.  Hole #2 reads:  “Basket missing, hit tee sign on hole #3”.  The grass is long and dewy.  Perfect for extremely muddy sandals & feet.  I couldn’t find the tee or basket for hole #5, but the rest of the course was fine.  Nice way to continue the morning.  Vermont has twelve courses.  I think I like Vermont.

I leave Bennington for a northern drive to the center of the state.  Stop at a gas station for fuel & coffee.  There’s a huge counter with at least twelve self-serve carafes of different varieties of coffee, along with a choice of milk or half & half.  It’s a tiny little gas station.  Yummy, Green Mountain Coffee.  I really like Vermont. 

I drive the scenic two-lane route 7 lined with farms and trees.  The road slows down for quaint towns along the way that bear cute houses, stores, restaurants, and inns.  No billboards, no tall neon signs.  No ugly stretches of strip malls and traffic lights. Groups of shops are housed in cute barn-like or house-like complexes that blend in with the quaint towns.  Driving through this state, even through the towns, proves to be a pleasure.  I love Vermont. 

I’m cruising at around 65 mph in a 55 mph zone.  I see a cop driving towards me, opposite direction & immediately slow down.  Lights come on, I think he’s got me.  Keeps going.  Two or three more times that day, I notice cops who don’t notice my speeding.  Vermont is awesome!  After a couple hours of driving, I reach the trailhead.  

It’s a 2.6-mile hike to the summit of Mount Abraham. The trail is amazing:  ridiculously tall trees in a thick, shaded forest.  Moss and fern and mushrooms and rocks and greenery like you wouldn’t believe.  No bothersome insects.  The air was fresh, cool, & easy to breathe.  Rocks, mud, & roots to maneuver around.  Big, rocky steps.  Huge boulders.  I’m grateful for being able to put my long body to good use.  Dude, this is a hike.  The last half-mile was almost grueling.  Grueling, yet an extremely enjoyable climb up the steep, rocky path.   The views near and at the top were outstanding.  Green mountains everywhere.  On my way down, two guys with packs were heading up.  I called them my “heroes”.  The hike down was just as beautiful, and I love noticing things overlooked on the way up.  I love how hiking is such a perfect exercise.  I love how different muscles are working at different rates depending on whether you’re going uphill or downhill.  If I lived in Vermont, I would tear up those trails, I’d learn to do it with a pack, and I’d have the sweetest legs ever.  I am in love with the State of Vermont. 

After the three hours of hiking, it’s time to head back South.  Such a brief visit in a wonderful place, I’d be staying in Albany, NY for the night.  …but not before a couple amazing hours of driving.  The mountains, the quiet towns, the fresh air, the nature. 

I hit the South Street Café in Bennington one more time for a cup of coffee.  Sipping outside, there’s a little red-haired girl showing me how well she can jump down the stairs, jump across the sidewalk, and jump straight up, telling me how excited she is that her family is moving back to Bennington.  I end up chatting with some guy about how awesome Vermont is.  If only I had a higher tolerance for cold.  He suggested wool blankets.  Time to hit the road again.  I stop at a store for some pure maple candy.  Soon after, I cross the border and enter New York State.  It’s just as beautiful up in these parts, heading toward Albany. 

I’m about to see Deborah, my sweetest friend since junior high.  I’m happily about to visit her, but my gut reaction as I arrive to Albany is strange.  Nearing the city, my eyes see a very tall building, and it brings tears.  As the approach continues, it’s a full-fledged cry.  I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a city.  It wasn’t because I thought it was beautiful.  I was crying because Vermont was over for now.  What a shumnious twenty-four hours. 

A night in Bennington...

Stealth camping is the term given to camping at an un-established wilderness site. It also can have a second meaning, which is camping in a site without the permission of a landowner.

On a couch in a coffee shop in Bennington, Vermont, I meet and chat with two humorous, laid back guys sitting on the opposite couch. 

“I sell babies on the black market”, jokes Elvis.

“Since he’s black”, adds Niko.

“He’s my pimp (referring to Niko), that’s why he wears those sunglasses,” says Elvis.  

Of course I understand they’re not serious.  After they get over the fact that I’m not really a pro-disc golfer, Niko gives me great info and directions to a nearby spot that’ll make a good campsite. 

I drive down the street and around the corner, about a mile from downtown’s center and find the trail.  Hammock-sleeper in tow, I want to set up while there’s still daylight.  I nearly wipe out after slipping on mushy lawn clippings that someone had dumped at the start of the trail, which is on a slight decline.  The trail runs parallel to the river at first, then veers off.  

I get to the clearing that Niko described and explore possible options.  I find a nice little nook that appears to be the perfect natural campsite, not too close to the river.  While being feasted on by mosquitoes, I quickly hang the hammock between two trees… golden!  It’s still early, so I head back downtown for a cold one.  The Rattlesnake Cafe, as recommended by Elvis, is a Mexican joint with a cozy little bar.  Two Stone IPAs later, I head back to camp.  The stars are out; it’s a lovely night.  I’m kind of scared.  I’ve camped alone before, but never in an area this strange.  It’s a crazy test for myself.  Facing fear, being adventurous, trying something new.  Walking down the trail with my battery-powered lamp, I make a brief phone call to hear a familiar voice before sleeping.  I get cozy in the hammock and zip myself in, Swiss-army knife tucked into my pants. Time to catch some zzzzzzzzzzz. Here's the hammock... now picture it in the dark of night: 

I wake up a few times as the air becomes chilly, to wrap myself completely in the blanket.  All is well… until…

…MY EYES SPRING OPEN!!... to the sound of a growl.  A low, continuous, rumbling growl.  HOLY SHIT WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!  It’s in the woods, to my left.  I have no idea what it is.  I hear the thing barking, but it’s not a dog bark.  It’s something way stranger than a dog.  All I can picture is some medium sized creature with coarse hair, pointy ears, creepy round eyes, and a sharp, raw, drooling mouth… staring me down.  OH MY GOD… GET THE FUKUOKA AWAY FROM ME!  It’s quiet for a moment, and then I hear the growling from the opposite side.  It’s not right next to me, but apparently it’s circling me.  I’ve made camp in this thing’s territory, and am being kicked out.  That’s right, I’m OUT OF HERE.  It’s 4 a.m.  I wait until the growling subsides for a minute and unzip my hammock.  Socks off, sandals on.  I hastily grab my light & backpack and hit the trail.  I’ll go back for the hammock in the morning.  Call me a quakebuttock; I just need to get the hell back to my car.  I drive to the downtown area again, park, and sleep in the safety of my back seat with the comfort(er) of down for two more hours.

I arise between 6 & 6:30 feeling pleasantly refreshed.  It’s cool out, and the morning sun brings way to another beautiful summer day.  I head down the trail once again, to fetch the hammock & blanket.  The ground is muddy and the tall golden weeds lining the trail are soaked with dew.  Something about daylight erases any fear.  Laughing to myself, I gather the hammock and walk back to the car.    

experiment

Following a blog that's inspired me to attempt to write using 100 words or fewer.  Not a very interesting story for most, but here goes...

Last week, played a most beautiful round at Warwick/Brakewell Steel.   No pro; I can recognize grandeur.  18^th hole, woods ate the StarBeast.  My baby, used for everything.  Went to Warwick today for discs.  Met David, looking for Valkyrie.  Small selection, but each walked out with two discs.  Met up at W/BS, decided to throw together.  Joined by a chick who blew me away! Sweet! 4^th hole:  David lost a brand new disc.  Four pairs eyes, good 15 minutes.   Disc was in his bag… entire time.  He’d already taken his second throw.  Not even high.   

Keep walkin'...

As I approached the lake, I heard one of the boys say, “Just keep swimming like we aren’t doing anything”. Ha, this should be good.

“What are you guys doing?” I ask.

“Isaac’s skinny dipping!” Jacob informs me.

Oh yeah?! “That’s AWESOME! Everyone should skinny dip! I do it with my friends whenever possible.” It was cute they thought they should sneak. Little did they know I’d been skinny dipping twice that past week, in a very public outdoor pool, with very adventurous friends, playing the funnest ever game of Marco Polo, very illegally. Isaac requested, several times, that I “join the party”, but I declined. Inappropriate in this country for me to bare all in the company of two boys, aged 8 & 10. He convinced his older brother, Jacob, to remove his shorts. That didn’t last long, as Jacob thought it “felt weird”. Isaac didn’t ever want to put his shorts on again. He dove in, purposely raising his pale little butt out of the water, into the air. He jumped straight up, flashing the world. Basking in nature, he shouted out: “THE BODY IS A BEAUTIFUL THING! DON’T HIDE IT”... “FREEDOM!”… “JOIN THE PARTY! JOIN THE PARTY!”.

Everything thereafter became ‘skinny’. There were skinny-fish, skinny-games, skinny-races, skinny-splashing… and it honestly warmed my guts to see Isaac experience such joy as they dove down, collecting trash and making seaweed bracelets. This same kid, just an hour earlier, was complaining to no end about having to walk through the woods. Walking through the woods was part of the deal. I’d spent the last two weeks hanging out with these angels so they didn’t have to spend the end of summer in daycare. Part of our daily routine was taking a walk. As long as I was hanging out with them, sunshine & exercise were essentials. Home days, we walked around the neighborhood and usually across the street, where there’s a wooded trail complete with a few run-down exercise stations. Days at the lake, we hit the beautiful Bartram Trail. The first time we hiked, Isaac was all complaints, yet Jacob motivated him. “Think of how great you’ll feel when we finish three miles! It’s such an accomplishment!” By the time we hit the lake, both days, we were all smiles.

Spending those two-plus weeks with the boys was awesome. I never would have predicted the stress that came from hanging out with them all day before having to go into work for the evening. Not that they’re stressful company, by any means. They’re easy, fun, and extremely creative. But I don’t have kids… so I had no idea. Being so responsible, being so there. Sure I’ve babysat & have four nieces & nephews. But to spend 2 & ½ weeks taking care of these guys during the day… was a wake-up call. Feeding times, play times, cleaning up, being productive, getting away from the screens for physical activity. How lucky I was that they're two punk-rock, awesome dudes. High-fives over and over to their mom, my dear friend, Amy. And high-fives all around to any parents out there who manage to maintain the lives of their offspring.

Summer times always tend to blur… but hopefully they’ll remember the walks.

Glowing, summer skin...

I’m about to give away a big, fat secret for the sweetest, most fabulous summer skin. That’s right. Before you head back to your counter of free sample-gift-bag with a $59 purchase, age-defying, high-end beauty enhancer bliss… try this one. Go hang out at Clarks Hill / Strom Thurmond Lake. Light sunscreen for the ultra-whitey. Sunshine does wonders. It not only keeps us from looking sickly, it also helps with the vitamin D. Thirdly, it’ll cheer you up if you’re complaining too much. Get some. After a dip in the lake, have a seat at the water’s edge. Notice the coarse sand beneath you. Dig into it with your fingers. Get in there, pick it up with your hands and play with it. Clumpy & moist, you won’t be able to resist the temptation to rub it all over your body. Go ahead, beginning with your legs. Rub the scrubby, baby! Move up, handfuls of sand, to rub it all over your torso, shoulders, arms, neck, and even do it up gently on the face. When you’re satisfied, gently brush it off. Notice the sparkle! The golden dazzle of glitter that remains on your new, sun-kissed, exfoliated, freshly circulating skin. There it is. That’s the beauty of the Strom Thurmond shimmering exfoliate. It’s free and plentiful. Right there at your lake. That shower can wait. Trust me.