Pamola
New member
Late last week I get the email from Marc. He's in need of a place to crash during a weekend of hiking, bushwhacking, and generally knocking out elevation like it's got a glass jaw. I said fine, the couch was his for the taking.
When he arrived Saturday evening, I had planned on joining him for Clough on Sunday. I used my cunning and guile to convince him that vermont was a better idea, so Groton State Forest became the destination.
We got up at a decent time Sunday and repeatedly failed trying to get a diner breakfast on the way to the peaks. At the first one, it didn't make sense. While in line for the second, it dawned on me - sh*t, it's father's day. With newfound determination to make a call home to maine later, we headed off again, searching for some gas station breakfast sandwiches. We achieved the heat lamp goodness and headed off to Gore Road, a forest service acess road off 302 in Groton.
This road is in fairly good shape. My snarling, feral Chevy Lumina made short work of the few waterbars as it got it's tummy scratched by all the grass between the tracks. Marc and I parked on the east side of Butterfield, well beyond where the Gazetteer says the road ends. It loops around, crossing a couple streams and curving around the bowl where Signal/Burnt meet Butterfield. Anyways, we hit the woods at 9:45 or so. The going was easy, the woods beautiful. We traveled up the ESE ridge though thickets of young maple and leafy plants, eventually getting to massive fernscapes punctuated by the odd erratic and massive stout birch tree. BAM! We were at the top. But we weren't alone. I stopped 15 yards short of the canister because i heard something else crashing through the woods other than Marc. I massive cow moose rumbled into the small clearing around the canister. It stared at us, and Marc rumbles too, then started coming at us. I strafed behind a tree as she veered off, crashing out of sight. Not many people visit this one a year. the only recognizable name was Papa Bear from 04. Maybe A half dozen names per year. We didn't dally. The bugs were terrible.
We were back at the car at 11:15, heading for the westside of the mountains, and were going to try the westside Gore Road up Signal, since we were going for Spruce anyways. No such luck. Aside from the dozen NO Trespassing signs, the road was too much for even the lumina to handle.
Change of plans. Hit Spruce, hit a pub, hit Signal on the way home. Done and done. We made it up Spruce pretty quickly, although it's a meandering, serpentine trail made for the masses. Nice firetower, decent views, blah blah blah. ONward!
We popped down to Barre to the new Granite City Brew Pub. Albeit refreshing in the situation, their beer was crap. Disappointing. Batteries charged, we headed back east on 302 to the original Gore Road. We parked about a quarter mile past where we did for Butterfield, and headed uphill. This was no open, bucolic wonder that Butterfield was. Our route up Signal was a dense mess of moose maple and young beech until we reached the ridge. From there it was widely-spaced fir and more ferns, rather nice. Made it to the canister, saw Papa Bear's name again and a Bill Bowden entry from the 90's. Once again, the flies were terrible and we headed down.
we arrived at the car before 6. Not bad. Highlights of the day were definitely the beautiful open Vermont bushwhacks and hitting the road less than 200 yards from the car both times (f**k gps). Downside of the day - the barrage of stinging nettles on Butterfield that almost incapacitated Marc and me.
Alright. I'm ramblin. I'll let Marc add pics.
Happy whackin, y'all.
When he arrived Saturday evening, I had planned on joining him for Clough on Sunday. I used my cunning and guile to convince him that vermont was a better idea, so Groton State Forest became the destination.
We got up at a decent time Sunday and repeatedly failed trying to get a diner breakfast on the way to the peaks. At the first one, it didn't make sense. While in line for the second, it dawned on me - sh*t, it's father's day. With newfound determination to make a call home to maine later, we headed off again, searching for some gas station breakfast sandwiches. We achieved the heat lamp goodness and headed off to Gore Road, a forest service acess road off 302 in Groton.
This road is in fairly good shape. My snarling, feral Chevy Lumina made short work of the few waterbars as it got it's tummy scratched by all the grass between the tracks. Marc and I parked on the east side of Butterfield, well beyond where the Gazetteer says the road ends. It loops around, crossing a couple streams and curving around the bowl where Signal/Burnt meet Butterfield. Anyways, we hit the woods at 9:45 or so. The going was easy, the woods beautiful. We traveled up the ESE ridge though thickets of young maple and leafy plants, eventually getting to massive fernscapes punctuated by the odd erratic and massive stout birch tree. BAM! We were at the top. But we weren't alone. I stopped 15 yards short of the canister because i heard something else crashing through the woods other than Marc. I massive cow moose rumbled into the small clearing around the canister. It stared at us, and Marc rumbles too, then started coming at us. I strafed behind a tree as she veered off, crashing out of sight. Not many people visit this one a year. the only recognizable name was Papa Bear from 04. Maybe A half dozen names per year. We didn't dally. The bugs were terrible.
We were back at the car at 11:15, heading for the westside of the mountains, and were going to try the westside Gore Road up Signal, since we were going for Spruce anyways. No such luck. Aside from the dozen NO Trespassing signs, the road was too much for even the lumina to handle.
Change of plans. Hit Spruce, hit a pub, hit Signal on the way home. Done and done. We made it up Spruce pretty quickly, although it's a meandering, serpentine trail made for the masses. Nice firetower, decent views, blah blah blah. ONward!
We popped down to Barre to the new Granite City Brew Pub. Albeit refreshing in the situation, their beer was crap. Disappointing. Batteries charged, we headed back east on 302 to the original Gore Road. We parked about a quarter mile past where we did for Butterfield, and headed uphill. This was no open, bucolic wonder that Butterfield was. Our route up Signal was a dense mess of moose maple and young beech until we reached the ridge. From there it was widely-spaced fir and more ferns, rather nice. Made it to the canister, saw Papa Bear's name again and a Bill Bowden entry from the 90's. Once again, the flies were terrible and we headed down.
we arrived at the car before 6. Not bad. Highlights of the day were definitely the beautiful open Vermont bushwhacks and hitting the road less than 200 yards from the car both times (f**k gps). Downside of the day - the barrage of stinging nettles on Butterfield that almost incapacitated Marc and me.
Alright. I'm ramblin. I'll let Marc add pics.
Happy whackin, y'all.
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