DAY 1 - On August 2nd, 2020 I stood at Northern Terminus of the Long Trail, with what many would refer to as “unfinished business”. Just shy of a year ago I had attempted the same challenge, attempting to break the Female Supported FKT (fastest known time). I would not allow myself to think about the big picture, the 273 miles and 65,370 feet of elevation gain that needed to be covered faster than five days two hours. I very much stayed in the moment, enjoying the company of those that hiked up to the start with me. At the starting post we all took in the splendor of an early morning in Vermont, took some photos and told some last minute jokes.
The word for day one on the trail was BEGINNING. Beginning seems like a simple concept, yet it can feel difficult and overwhelming. With the distance and terrain comes uncertainty, fear, self-doubt, but the important part was having the courage to start. Starting meant that I had something to build on as that first step can turn into another step, and then yet another.
Photo Credit: Berne Broudy
At 6:07 AM Coach Jason Koop took photos of our time stamp that officially marked the beginning and we departed the Northern Terminus of the Long Trail. I knew that for the first two days I really wanted to keep things controlled. Within about three hours the early sun gave way to cloudy skies and rain showers, but that brought a nice little reprieve from the humidity. As we continued to make our way through the 18.8-mile segment I internally questioned if I was going too fast or too slow, and defaulted to having fun, staying honest and trusting in the work I had done leading up. With this approach the miles ticked off with relative ease and when we arrived at Hazen’s Notch it was time to run with my long-time running partner Jack.
Jack was all smiles when we ran arrived. He immediately showed me his thumb which had a “run in” with a skill saw the night prior. Not to worry it was bandaged and protected in a sandwich baggie. I meant he was constantly giving me a thumbs up! The section from Hazen’s Notch to Codding Hollow was a section that Jack had never done, so he did what any good pacer would do, he googled it! In that search he unearthed common threads, black flies, slippery rocks, knee deep mud and moose poop. I accepted all of them but one, which I thought was potentially an over exaggerated and within minutes was proven wrong. Striding across what looked like 3 or 4 inches of mud my front leg was without warning swallowed and the same with my back leg. I stood motionless trying to determine how to free myself without losing my shoes as Jack stood behind me laughing. With slow intentional movement I got myself out and Jack picked a different route.
A minor glitch in route finding as the trail before and then we found ourselves climbing the wooden ladder which then takes the trail under a huge tabular boulder leaning up against a cliff as you enter Devil’s Gulch. After passing through we both found the footing through the gulch was a bit greasy, we took our time and knowing now wasn’t the time to be hasty.
As day turned to dusk, we arrived at Codding Hollow and Jack passed me over to Adam. Together, Adam and I worked to navigate the final miles that remained for day one into Johnson. The miles meandering through the local sugarbush seemed to go effortlessly and after descending off the rock outcroppings at Prospect Rock we made our way across the dramatic pedestrian foot bridge that crosses the Lamoille River. In the middle of the bridge, we both stopped, turned off our headlamps and took in the sights and sounds. Between the full moon reflecting off the river below and looming weather rumbling in the distance, there was a lot to captivate our minds. Moving again and now in exposed fields and roads the unpredictable flashes of lighting increased my cadence. Luckily, we arrived at my sleep spot on West Settlement Road with the rain closing behind.
I sat with my crew and ate dinner as we reflected back on the day. I ate and drank consistently all day relying mostly on UnTapped’s and Mapleaid. My feet were in great shape, thanks to the combination of my Salomon Wildcross shoes, Drymax socks and Squirrel’s Nut Butter. No aches or pains to complain about besides some side chaffing due to not being proactive with lube. Now with nourishment in my belly, I tucked into bed and knew I was off to a solid start, I had 51 miles behind me, but had many more miles to go, but now needed sleep. I was tired, yet wide awake.
The storm that we were not long ago running from had found us. The thunder had me pulling my blanket up tighter, it was okay. Then my eyes flung open as flashes of lightning illuminated the camper. Next to grab my attention was the noise of the rain that was amplified as it struck the camper roof. As worries streamed, I kept telling myself.... SLEEP.
Comments