The Unexpected Challenge of Hiking Camel’s Hump

Will it be the straw that breaks our backs?

It’s no secret that Vermont in early October is a leaf peeper’s dream.  My husband and I went on a small walk/hike up Sugarbush to look at the fall foliage bursting into color all around us and hatched a plan to go on a bigger hike up nearby Camel’s Hump Mountain the next day. I was a little leery about such a big hike; Camel’s Hump is the third highest peak in Vermont. We like to hike, but usually only hike the woods around us for an hour or two. My husband insisted that we would pack up, go on this hike, and then feel like we had truly accomplished something big. What can I say? I drank the Kool Aid.

We drove by Mad River Glen and arrived at the base of Camel’s Hump. The parking lot was surprisingly full for a Wednesday late morning. We donned our packs and set off. The trail was wet and rocky, and we squished in the mud as we hiked up and up. My husband estimated that we could be up and down in about three hours based on the Apple watch data from our mini hike the day before. He adores data. The woods were beautiful with the changing leaves and babbling streams. The fellow hikers we saw along the way were friendly and we exchanged passing pleasantries.

After a couple of hours we realized that this hike was going to take us longer than we’d calculated. We were going slower than our normal walking pace because the steep trail was strewn with boulders. Sweat poured off our bodies.  My heart pounded in my chest at 165 beats per minute according to my Apple watch; we had to slow down a bit so that I wouldn’t have a coronary event.  I worried that we’d get to the summit so late that we’d be hiking back in the dark. I worried that our aching bodies weren’t strong enough for such a hike.  I worried that we didn’t have enough water. I worried that we’d get to the summit, and it would be clouded over. I was filled with self-doubt. My husband must have had similar thoughts because after we rounded a bend, he looked up and saw more uphill rocky trail and exclaimed, “Okay where the f*** is the summit?”

The Burrows trail ended, and we felt a glimmer of hope. We were making progress. However, we’d forgotten that to reach the summit we’d have to hike an additional half mile up the Alpine trail which was even steeper and rockier. We slogged our way to the top not saying much. I must have looked grim because my husband offered to turn around. “No way I’m turning back now!” I exclaimed.

Finally, the trees cleared, and we gazed at the stunning panoramic view. We had made it to the summit, and it was beautiful. We stared out at the rolling hills around us in full fall foliage mode. We smiled and high fived each other and took a rest while admiring the view of Lake Champlain and the mountains while scarfing down granola bars.  As I gazed out at the mountains, blue sky, and puffy white clouds a feeling of well-being washed over me. We had made it and it had turned out alright. Perhaps it was the endorphins that athletes attest to or the effects of serotonin boosting exercise, but I experienced an enormous feeling of gratitude and happiness on top of that mountain.

We chatted with other hikers enjoying the views from the summit and offered to take pictures for one another. My husband made his recurring joke that he’d just met me at the summit. Okay, maybe time to put that one to rest after twenty-nine years of marriage, but it didn’t even bother me. I was that happy. The serene atmosphere was momentarily dispelled when a runner burst onto the summit trailed by his panting German Shepard. He was clad in a t-shirt and track shorts. He did a quick loop around the summit and headed back down to the base declaring that he didn’t want to “tighten up”.  We did the hike to reach the summit and admire the view while he did it for the journey; the view was clearly secondary to him. I just hope his dog got a big bowl of water and a bone at the end of the hike. I pondered our different approaches as I munched on my various trail snacks.

On our descent we practically skipped down the mountain; we were so happy to be going down instead of up. It was obvious that we were making much better time. We started fantasizing about a beer at the bottom of the trail, a rookie move not to pack some in the car cooler. Perhaps we were a little dehydrated from only bringing one water bottle a piece with us.

It was late afternoon, so we didn’t notice as many hikers ascending the mountain as we made our way down, but there were some and I wondered if they’d had headlamps in their packs for the descent. I’m sure it would be beautiful to witness a sunset on the summit, but I prefer hiking in the daylight. We even passed a lone barefoot hiker. While I agree there are benefits to going barefoot, I can’t imagine gingerly stepping on rocks for hours on end.  It didn’t seem to be bothering him; I wondered what sort of calluses he had.

We also observed a lot of hikers bearing hiking poles. On our ascent the idea of carrying extra items in both hands as I trudged up the steep trail seemed like it wouldn’t be worth it. However, on the descent I think there is a definite advantage to having poles. It can be tricky to going faster on the way down and maintaining balance especially on a wet trail.  My husband fell once, and I slipped a few times too.

My husband raised his arms in triumph. “Parking lot!” he exclaimed.  We hopped in the car and headed back towards town. It was dinner time by then after nearly a five-hour hike and we were famished. We pulled into a nearby pizza place and ordered a beer while we waited for our order to be ready. We toasted each other, craft beers in hand, and watched the sun sink the sky.

General Info:

1. The Burrows Trail is accessed by the town of Huntington. The Monroe Trail via Duxbury is more challenging.
2. Bring plenty of water and snacks.
3. Hiking poles are recommended. REI has some great options.
4. If you have extra stamina beyond the summit is the crash site of a WWII plane; unfortunately, our legs were spent.
5. Altra trail hiker sneakers serve me well. These are similiar to mine.