We Pushed beyond the Devil and Happy Hill

 

In the winter months with the leaves down on the ground, I contemplate walking the ridge between Scott road and Huckle Hill.  I am particularly fond of the hill that terminates the southeastern end of this ridgeline. I imagine that it is to the east of where Scott and Vernon roads meet, while Huckle Hill lies to the west. Wayne of course believes otherwise, he thinks that the state line where the two roads meet is on the side of this hill. Who am I to disagree?

 From a distance, the hill looks as if one could see clear into three states, and then once finished drinking in the sight, a person would simply need to sit and slide down into the river valley below. Of course, having hiked with Wayne in Satan's Kingdom before, I intimately understand that couldn't possibly be so.

I was able to find on a map of Vernon, a place marked Happy Hill, and I wonder if this could be my hill?  Pond Mtn, The Pinnacle, Bald Mtn and East Mtn are along the state line listed east to west and in that order. Charles Hill of which I have found previous mention in historical journals, is behind Lily Pond and is also noted in Vernon, VT Nearby Mountains 

It appears fairly laughable to think that I am attempting to pin point on maps, a place where I have often driven through and that which I can plainly see out of my living room window. But truth be told, I have on more than one occasion, intended to take a well planned out leisurely hike and was instead confronted with what morphed into a big reality check. While Happy Hill seems like a friendly enough place, I have my doubts that I have any business at all bushwhacking up something called the Pinnacle!

An 1869 Beers & Co. map of Vernon depicts Pond Mountain spanning District 5 and into District 9 along the VT, MA border. Pond Mountain is 1,200 feet ASL, whereas my hill is around 500feet ASL.

 

What would I gain if I didn't at least try? 

Tyler cemetery sits in the foreground of Pond Mountain as seen from Pond Rd in Vernon. 

We began our attempt at the state line. Our plan was to hike just left of the state line in Satan's Kingdom / MA wildlife management area. We parked at the granite marker at the end of Scott road.  The state line between MA and Vernon has recently been surveyed and the pink tape on the trees is still present

Wayne, not wanting to disturb VT property owners along the line decided to hike even further to the south of the yellow blazes. This meant that we would not have the blazes to guide us; but nor would we risk confrontation. Going deeper into Satan's Kingdom in order to reach the Pinnacle was to be our hikes ongoing theme.  

For my part, seeing the steep, rough, ice covered terrain before me, I decided that the local dog would know best how to navigate it. I'm not too proud to admit that the dog was a far better hiker than myself and I might as well get this over with now. I shed a few tears and uttered a few unsavory words climbing up this hill and then down the other side. Honestly, I'm not even sure why I thought this to be Happy Hill! 

I have a Vernon friend who positively skips up 4000ft mountains, sometimes three at a time and always sharing pictures of her smiling with hands raised to the heavens at every peak. She once informed me that there are no cold days, just bad gear. I think that it would be fair to say, that I learned on this hike, that my new footwear was better suited for walking downtown than scaling ledge.

All excuses and complaints aside, lets go for a beautiful walk in Satan's Kingdom.

This winter, Wayne and I have noticed a lot of trees and limbs on forest floors. We look for signs of logging, did someone have a need and so felled the trees?  We wonder if it was a blowdown, had there been a strong storm that uprooted the trees? Perhaps it was disease that weakened them? What exactly has caused so many trees this winter to succumb? Then I remember that it's February and the snow cover this winter is slight. Maybe we are only noticing them because they aren't being hidden by a thick white blanket of snow. There is a peacefulness about winter, it hides what is evident.

It is truly a beautiful place, once the details are glossed over. 

We happened across what appeared to be a well worn trail. I was tempted to change course; but like the bear that went over the mountain...

We came to see what we could see.

And so pushed up towards the higher hill in the distance.

Only to discover ourselves on a ridge with no place else to go but down.

 

I don't fully understand what it is that drives me to do these things. There was a well worn path behind us, and yet I found myself looking for dog tracks on that ridge. Wayne has a way of knowing when I am about to come unglued.

 

There was no turning back, mostly because I had lost my trekking pole down the slope and needed to retrieve it.

Wayne waiting for me to collect myself.

Wayne took a minute to decompress and to wonder out loud why he agrees to go on these crazy adventures with me. 

We were standing on another opportunity to abandon ship. Wayne voted to hike on this trail further south. I on the other hand decided that I was ready to head north. In any case, there was what appeared to be an open field a little bit to the west that Wayne wanted to check out. So of course we headed north on the trail.

Sometimes on these explorations, we begin to think that we have strayed too far off course. Sometimes others leave us an encouraging sign.

The hill was within reach, all that we needed to do was take the shortcut and do a bit more downhill bushwhacking.

But still, we held to the trail.

Which brought us to a young stand of Eastern Hemlock teaming with life.  It was Wayne who first noticed that the trees were filled with Dark Eyed Juncos. The unassuming Junco is my favorite bird to visit our yard in the winter months. There is something about these small black and white birds, patiently waiting on the ground for for an opportunity to glean the tiniest of  morsels that fall from the gluttonous frenzy at the feeder above. And then when the bounty of spring and summer arrives, they leave my yard and disappear deep into the boreal forests to nest in the old stumps of conifer trees.

I once watched a news segment where an Ecologist stated that the best time to visit a wetland was in the winter. He said that in the winter you could get a closer look at what was there. 

Wayne studies the mountain from the wetlands.

A Cattail disperses its seeds during the winter months

Holding on for some outward sign.

Abandoning my thoughts of reaching the Pinnacle, I begin to think about what waits for its opportunity below this frozen shelf.  

And how it is some things that I think couldn't possibly be here, somehow still are. 

No, one cannot claim the mountain tops with a belief that only they can slide into the river below. There is too much work to be done between the two.

 -Norma Manning