A Short Part of the Long Trail

Yesterday was hectic. We had hoped to go on a family hike but couldn't fit it in among the other Saturday demands: chores, ballet lessons, helping friends move, toddler naps, play dates, and the church potluck dinner. But the idea of a "family hike" struck a chord with the 2 year old and he expressed his desire to go many times during the day. It wasn't forgotten overnight, either. He preferred it to going to church this morning but was overruled by the rest of us.

So, after his nap today, we finally went on the family hike. Our usual Sunday family "hike" is a leisurely stroll around the Robert Frost Interpretive Trail just up the mountain, but that trail suffered serious damage in last August's flood and most of it is still closed. So Q looked up a new one which was labeled "easy" in the Vermont Gazetteer. It was actually a 600 ft gain in elevation and 2.5 miles total from car to cliff and back. Post-hike research revealed that other sources label it "moderate to difficult" and I concur. 

We started at Middlebury Gap, where the Long Trail (which is part of the Appalachian Trail) intersects Route 125, roughly 15 minutes from our house. Q took the baby in the backpack and I was companion to Mr. Junior Collector who was fascinated by everything on the forest floor and stuffed his pockets full of goodies as he plodded along. He had to be convinced to put down the handfuls of sticks from time to time so he could be assisted up the terrain. I suffered from museum sickness* but tried to deal with it for his sake. The girls darted between Dad in the front and me in the back, with the 5 year old reporting all sorts of hiking "news" to her older sister who promptly jotted it all down with melodramatic flair in a small notebook. 

Silent Cliff Trail was enjoyable in a difficult sort of way and it was worth the sore quadriceps I will have tomorrow. The view was really amazing. I felt like I could see Colorado although it was really the Adirondack Mountains. And it was truly a cliff. Don't walk that path in dim light because it ends abruptly at a small rocky ledge and you are suddenly looking down 600 feet to Route 125. Perhaps it is called Silent Cliff because the cliff part sort of sneaks up on you at the end.

The little boys didn't get all the way to the cliff- don't worry. Part of the trail was still snowy and muddy (not to mention also steep), so Q and I tag-teamed at the end and I went first with the girls, then came back and let him go with them while the boys and I started back. The combination of steep downhill, a baby in a backpack, and wearing bifocals slowed me down and I felt conspicuously like a packhorse picking my way down the tree root stairs, holding on to the tendrils of saplings for assistance. 

Mr. Junior Collector had turned into Captain Belligerent and was carried part of the way on his Dad's shoulders. But the baby was singing lovely monosyllabic songs of contentment on the way down and the girls ran ahead of me, reaching the registration post first. The conscientious 9 year old signed us out so the rangers wouldn't worry about us. We all ended the family hike in good spirits- even the 2 year old- and headed home as the sun set, looking forward to a round of warm toast and jam and soft beds. 


*Museum sickness is something I get when I have to walk too slowly, as in museums. I get bored, impatient, can't concentrate, look up at the ceiling a lot and want to sprint. I have discovered that I do better at museums when I walk rather quickly and cover the whole place several times over- or sit down.