The days were getting shorter and I wanted to get in one last adventure before the cold weather set in. So off I went into the Lye Brook Wilderness of the Green Mountain National Forest in Vermont.

A little over a century ago, this place was decimated by the industrial revolution and scraped down to its bare landscape by extractive industries. Expansive logging camps, sawmills, charcoal kilns, and railroads used to dominate this formally wild land.

However, In the 20th century after the formation of Vermont's Long Trail and The Appalachian Trail, it was turned into a protected national forest.

Today, almost a century later, the area has returned to it’s wild roots, boasting over 18,000 acres of reclaimed wilderness. Twenty one miles of which, I was lucky enough to explore on an early Fall weekend. 

Day 1: Chasing Waterfalls

The first day of the trip was going to be the longest, so I slept in my Jeep at the trailhead the night prior to squeeze out as much daylight as I could for it.

After waking to my alarm, I kickstarted the day with percolated coffee brewed in the pale blue, pre-sunrise light.

To make this a true loop hike, I parked at the Prospect Rock trailhead and had to ‘hike’ through two miles of rural residential area to get to the Lye Brook trailhead.

I didn’t mind. Even though the Autumnal Equinox had only just passed, the red maples were already wearing their Ugg boots and sipping on their pumpkin spiced lattes as fall was in full swing up here in Vermont. 

As the fall colors gave way to evergreen conifers, I was surrounded by the scent of early morning pine and found my way to the Lye Brook trailhead.

The highlight of this section, and the reason I wanted to come this way was the famous Lye Brook Falls. But to get there, I had to take a half mile side trail. 

It was well worth it.

Once I was done relaxing at the falls, I backtracked and branched off to continue south, deeper into the wilderness.

Gradually, the trail ascended up a steep canyon wall. Although the forest was too dense to notice anything significant, the topo map detailed the dramatic canyon features. 

After 6.7 miles, I climbed out of the canyon and onto the plateau where I would spend most of the rest of the trip. It was here that the real fall colors began. 

Un-effing-worldly

I have never in my life seen colors like this. The reds, neon oranges, and yellows were other worldly. It was like I was walking through the set of an Avatar sequel or some sort of LSD induced Beatles cartoon.

Once on the Plateau, it was pretty easy going flat terrain. Despite this, after about eight miles or so, I began to feel a sharp stabbing pain on the right side of my knee. 

Patellofemoral syndrome strikes again. I have had bad knees for years. They’ve never been the same since some people tried to blow me up a few years ago. 

Al Qaeda in Iraq. What a bunch of dicks.

Trying to mitigate the knee pain, I was already wearing patella straps and athletic tape. But on this trip, due to the lack of elevation gain, I decided to forgo the trekking poles.

That was a mistake. 

Hobbling forth for another two miles, I eventually made it to the insanely scenic Bourne Pond and set up camp on the northwestern shore.

After cooking up some freeze dried chicken gumbo, I sat there in peaceful silence, looking out over the lake as the sunlight retreated and the only light left was the moon peeking through the clouds and reflecting off the water.

Day 2: Strutting up to Stratton Pond

I was hoping that the swelling in my knee would go down overnight, but hope is a shitty anti-inflammatory.

My original plan for the day was to head over to Stratton Pond, and establish a basecamp. I'd then drop most of my gear, and continue on to climb to the top of Stratton Mountain. 

But my knee was swollen and in bad shape. It looked like mountain climbing would not be in the cards for me that day.

I weighed my options. I was already ten miles deep into the wilderness, so it’s not like I could just quit and call an Uber. 

But I did have three days of food with me, so I decided I would  take on the few miles to Stratton pond and just take it easy. I would spend the day enjoying the sights and sounds of the Vermont woods in the fall, and give my knee a day to rest. And then hopefully, it would be well enough to finish the loop hike out of there the next day.

Once I made the call, I realized there was no reason to rush. So I instead enjoyed a slow morning in camp, savoring every sip of hot coffee in the chill of the fall morning.

The walk over to Stratton pond was beautiful. At every turn I was met with another perfect fall scene. I took my time taking photos and soaking it all in.

As I traversed the wilderness between the two ponds I came across a localized spot with a disproportionate amount of downed trees as if a bomb had gone off a long time ago.

I later found out that this was the remnants of a microburst impact. A rare weather phenomenon that hit here almost two decades prior. 

The area seemed to be recovering just fine with new growth. Although I noticed that the majority of the down trees seemed to be different types of broadleaf, whereas the new growth was mostly conifers. I wondered what that was all about.

I was planning on setting up camp on Stratton Pond’s North Shore, but when I got there, I was met with signs explaining that this trail was closed and was being rerouted due to the path eroding into the pond.

Out of respect for environmental conservation, I trekked on an additional mile to where the Appalachian Trail and Vermont's ‘Long Trail’ cut through this wilderness and found a cozy spot past one of the A.T.’s old shelters.  

Day 3: Rainy Ramblings

With fall in full swing, the sun had set around 6:45 pm and wasn’t going to come up again until 6:45 am. 

I had plenty of time to rest, but I couldn’t rest for that long. So I made plans to wake up at 5, and donning my headlamp, begin my day in the dark to make it back to the Jeep early. 

However an unforecasted rain storm had other plans for me. I woke up at 5 to a downpour outside my tent. I attempted to wait it out a bit, but by 7 I had enough and decided just to go for it and embrace the suck.

Oddly enough, for the amount of times I have backpacked, this was my first time having to break down camp in the rain. I mean I’ve had my fair share for drizzly mornings, but this was different. 

After prepping as much as I could prep inside of my cramped shelter, I popped out and broke down my tent. I made a futile attempt to shake the water off the tent as if that was going to do anything in a downpour. 

I quickly jammed all the wet gear into my pack in an attempt to limit the amount of rain getting into it. I now understood the importance of a bag liner for your sleeping bag and clothing regardless of how water proof your pack is. Luckily this was the last leg of the journey so I didn’t have to worry about it too much. 

Realizing I couldn’t effectively cook in the rain without a shelter, I had no choice but to forgo breakfast and coffee and immediately get to putting one foot in front of the other.

Not going to lie, without that morning caffeine compounded with being cold and wet, morale was low.

I was however hiking faster now as that day of rest helped my knee out tremendously. Plus with all the rain, I wasn’t stopping to take nearly as many pictures. 

The Rain let up at about 11. Which I decided was a perfect time to take a break for breakfast, errr, lunch. Brunch.

And then, as I sat there feasting on tuna in a pouch, as if someone hit a switch, the sun came out.

It’s rays peaked through the trees and I took a minute to bask in them as they warmed my face.

With only two and a half miles to go, I continued on. 

As the Appalachian/Long Trail turned North, my trail continued west and turned into a long dirt road.

Soon after, I came across a short offshoot trail to my left that led to the best view of the entire trip, Prospect Rock.

This open ledge outlook gave a breathtaking view of the Downer Glen Valley, the town of Manchester, and the mountains beyond.

After soaking in that view, I continued down the dirt road to the steepest part of the entire trip, as I descended off the plateau and back down to where I started. 

I got to my Jeep and headed back home down the autumn colored highway with another backpacking adventure in the books.