Thundering Brook Falls, Appalachian Trail

From the summit of Mount Greylock, I began my descent toward North Adams. This former mill town has transformed into a vibrant centre for art and culture. It's home to the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art (MASS MoCA), one of the largest contemporary art museums in the United States, housed in a vast 19th-century factory complex. After a brief stop, I set off again, climbing steadily until I reached the Vermont border—my twelfth state—where the AT merges with the Long Trail for the next 105mi (169km). Unbeknownst to me, I was in for a Vermont surprise!

As the forest of the Green Mountains closed around me, I found myself deep in thick woodlands and rolling hills, but the surprise was the stretches of thick mud left by heavy rains in the preceding days. Locals call it 'Vermud', as in Vermont mud, and wow, this Vermud clung to my boots with every step, making even the flattest sections a slog. Wooden bog bridges helped in places, but some had sunken slightly under the weight of years of hikers, leaving the boards slick and treacherous. I tried to balance on it, but my foot slid off the edge more than once, landing with a squelch in the muck. Even with my waterproof boots, I could feel the cold mud seeping in. Vermont was definitely not letting me pass without some struggle.

The trail led me through the Glastenbury Wilderness, known as part of the Bennington Triangle, a remote stretch of woods that carries a reputation for strange disappearances over the years. The Bennington Triangle spans the towns of Bennington, Woodford, and Glastenbury, infamous for hikers vanishing without a trace, strange lights flickering in the sky, and odd sounds echoing through the trees. It's a place that stirs the imagination, even if you try to ignore it.

At the top of Glastenbury Mountain stood the fire tower, its metal frame creaking in the wind. As I climbed the rickety steps, a strange unease crept over me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. The wind whispered through the trees, and, for a moment, I swore I heard faint footsteps behind me, even though I was alone. Could the Bennington Monster—an infamous local legend of a towering, long-haired creature—be lurking nearby? Maybe I shouldn't have read the eerie tales describing such sightings, but then again, the Native American legends also depict the mountain as both sacred and cursed. They tell the story of a sizable rock atop the mountain that, "once you stand upon it, the rock becomes less solid, and, like a living thing, swallows the unfortunate trespasser". My heart quickened as I thought about this. Feeling jittery, I didn't linger long, eager to leave.

With my sights set on Stratton Mountain, I pressed on, keen to climb the fire tower at its summit. This was the very spot where James P. Taylor stood in 1909, gazing out over the vast wilderness and conceiving the idea of a 'Long Trail' running the length of Vermont. His vision not only inspired the creation of the Long Trail, but in 1921, Benton MacKaye expanded upon it by connecting the scenic ridges of the Appalachian Range into a continuous footpath, ultimately giving rise to the Appalachian Trail. 

As I climbed higher, Killington Peak, nicknamed the "Beast of the East" and the highest point on the AT in Vermont, came into view. A short side trail led to the summit, where a ski lodge serving the largest ski area in the eastern U.S. offered a rare opportunity for a hot meal and refreshments during the hiking season. From there, the descent brought me closer to Thundering Brook Falls, one of Vermont's tallest waterfalls.

Shortly before the town of Killington, the AT and the Long Trail parted ways. With Thundering Brook Falls just ahead, I picked up my pace, eager to hear its thundering roar as it cascaded 125ft (46m) over jagged metamorphic rock. Reached via a short boardwalk, the falls were a sight to behold. Water tumbled down at a steep 45-degree angle, creating a powerful rush and sending a misty spray into the air.