[at-l] Jan Day 26

[kahley@ptd.net (kahley)]

It's Jay Peak Day!
Clyde wants to do ten of our 17 remaining miles
today, so we can walk out of the woods earlier
on our final day.  I don't want to miss the tram, so
I will just slog on. It's seven hard miles up Jay Peak
to the tram, then another three miles to the Laura
Woodward shelter. Then two more miles to the
Shooting Star Shelter Clyde has in mind.  I'll take
it as it comes. It's one of those decisions that
energy levels must decide.  Mighty fine hiking today.
Sun is bright, air dry and fallish, breeze is sustaining,
cooling as needed.

It always astounds me how much heat is produced
carrying a backpack up a mountain. Large calorie
output. Allows me to eat large quantities of pizza
with impunity.  The Beast of Burden is handling these
hills today with ease. That's what you get for feeding
and watering the pack stock wisely.  By the way, it
has been brought to my attention that St. Francis did
NOT call his body "Brother Mule." It was more like
"Brother Ass."   Seems appropriate, anyway you apply it.

A spot of red caught my eye as I paused for breath
halfway up Buchannan Mountain. Was it red survey paint?
No, two birches it was, growing close, their peeling
bark reaching out to each other. The sun, shining
though their pink papery shed, glowed though the bark
as redly as stained glass.  No cathedral rose window
looked as pretty right then as that glowing red in this
sea of green.

Descending from the last bump before the imposing
sawtooth of Jay Peak, I am amused by a huge, rounded
boulder by the side of the trail.

"...kids, this is your brain..."

Yes it did. It looked like a giant brain, down to the curls and folds.

"...THIS is your brain on the LONG TRAIL..."

" Any questions?"

The ferns up here are starting to redden from the chilly nights.
In the mornings, I notice a fresh untrod fall of yellow birch leaves
on the north slopes.  Part way down the rocky slope, It finally
happens. I step between a rock, fall and twist my ankle. NO!
MAN! I see stars. Yowza!

Then I weep a little - guys, you should try this sometime, it
really works. Then I rub on it for awhile, and decide I can make
it to Canada on my knees, if necessary.  Extra ibufrofen and
an ankle wrap, and I'm hobbling down to the road to hook up
with Clyde.  Turns out he slipped on a log and has trashed his
knee. It throbs with every step.   This close to the finish, and
the Trail is toying with us like a cat with a mouse.

We are taking a break at the bottom of Jay Peak, at Jay Pass
VT 242.  It is a 1,700 climb to the top, our last big challenge.
That's like climbing 170 flights of stairs! With a pack. No building
is that tall.  We think about sending our packs up the tram and
slacking the hike up.  But, no, each of us independently decides
to take our packs up along with us.   It's 12:30 PM. Up we go.

"You lead, M'Lady," Clyde waves magnanimously. "This one's
yours. Pull me up the hill."

We literally hobble across the highway, laughing at our sorry
physical condition, which is at odds with our high spirits.  As
we climb our last big 'un, Clyde recites a litany of all the mean
'ol mountains that haven't licked us yet, starting with the hellishly
hot and steep Pine Cobble trail back in Massachusetts.

It's been one hell of a month. Everything hurts. We've lost weight
and are legged up - probably could crack walnuts with our knees.
Our heart beats are strong and slow. We breathe from the very
bottoms of our lungs.  I have stopped fretting about home. Clyde
has stopped drumming his fingers at every pause in the action.
He now catnaps at every rest stop.

These are Good Things, Martha.

Jay Peak falls beneath our practiced boot steps. It ain't nothin' but
a THANG, now.  Around 2-ish we reach the rocky top, and we are
literally yelling and running and rock-hopping. ENERGY! Our last
big peak. We did it! We clumb it!

"Tell the Queen..."

I sit on a little bench to gather my wits and breath. And am surprised
at how choked up I feel.   We actually have 10 more miles to go before
hitting the border with Quebec and the end of the Too Damn Long Trail.
But this feels like the psychological end. It's all downhill from here.

I opt to take the tram down the mountain. Clyde waits up top while I
buy a pizza and bring it back up with sodas.   It takes but 8 minutes
for the tram to ascend what took 90 minutes for boot and muscle to
clamber up.

Remember, you heard it here first, LIVE FROM JAY PEAK, Sister
Jan and Brother Clyde's Traveling Medicine Show...
I feel like ibuprofen tonite...