Waubanaukee Indians first named it "Tah-wak-be-dee-ee-wadso" or Saddle Mountain. Samuel de Champlain's explorers in the 1600's called it "lion couchant" or “the Sleeping Lion”. The name "Camel's Rump" w
as used on a historical map by Ira Allen in 1798, and this became "Camel's Hump" in 1830. The Park came about as an original gift of 1000 acres including the summit from Colonel Joseph Battell, who originally bought Camel's Hump to preserve the view of the mountain from his home. In 1911, care of the mountain was entrusted to the State Foresters who managed with the aim to keep it in a primitive state according to Battell's wish. The state fought proposed intrusions by communications towers and ski resorts until the summit's Natural Area was officially set aside. In 1969, special legislation was passed to turn the roughly 20,000 acres on and around the mountain into Camel's Hump State Park. Camel's Hump now remains one of the few undeveloped peaks among the mountains of Vermont. We were excited to check it out and happy to have my brother Adam, and recent college graduate, along for the trip. It was also great to be able to split up the d
riving. We travelled overnight and arrived in the light of the early morning to see the beautiful landscape that is Vermont. We discovered that the record winter snowfall and spring rain had eroded many of the access roads we needed to reach our trailhead. This state park is a popular destination, and the park service was diligent in making accommodations for the ruined roads. We parked in a “winter” parking lot about a half mile from where we had planned- not bad. We hiked the distance over the closed roads. They definitely were impassable; there were huge trenches eroded all around us. We passed a plaque commemorating the unexplained crash of an Air Force B-24 Liberator Bomber on October 16, 1944. It killed nine crewmen. The Army searched on the wrong side of the mountain for the wreckage, but a group of local teenagers saved the life of the sole survivor on the other side. This man lost his hands and feet to frostbite. Soon enough we were on Monroe Trail heading up the eastern side of the mou
ntain. I could tell that I was well rested from being able to sleep in the car, and that our legs have gotten stronger. We hiked for several hours before feeling like we needed a breather. The mountain was in a heavy fog, and the air was humid. All of the mist made it seem as though we were walking on the set of a movie. The trail climbed at a steep and steady grade. Much of the path had standing water, or as was more often the case, running water. Most of the area has only a thin layer of soil, and most of our travelling was across smooth, slick rocks. Hikes like these are made much more enjoyable by having nice gear. Our feet stayed dry, and so our spirits stayed up. Near the summit we were passed by the only other hiker we saw. He was a trail keeper for the Green Mountains Club who recently took on the job. He seemed to like us and offered to let us stay at a GMC lodge (actually a log shelter) without paying the usual 5 bucks per person. We decided to take him up on that offer, changing our route off the summit to reach the place. We broke above tree line and were eventually at the summit. The views were still hidden in the thick fog and clouds. In fact, visibility was only about 15 feet. But the eerie visibility was overshadowed by the whipping winds. The gusts much have been over 50 mph. We were blown off our feet several times thanks to the slick footing and our packs acting as sails. We had charged up the mountain, and now de
cided we had plenty of time to wait and hope that the clouds cleared out. We made ourselves as comfy as we could and ate lunch. Eventually the views could be seen through the patches of cloud, and they were awesome! We got our photo-ops out of the way and headed onward down the south face of the mountain. This route is a section of the 273 mile long “Long Trail” that is the oldest long-distance trail in the United States. The Long Trail follows the main ridge of the Green Mountains from the Massachusetts-Vermont line to the Canadian border as it crosses Vermont's highest peaks. It was the inspiration for the Appalachian Trail, which coincides with it for one hundred miles in the southern third of the state. Anyhow, this southern face gives the peak its iconic look and makes for a heart pounding descent. We dropped down the entire elevation in under a half mile while white knuckling over some of the m
ost exposed climbing we have ever seen. Every few steps, I would pause and appreciate how ridiculous of a place we were in. we passed one other hiker, and he was ascending this route- a safer choice. In his arms was a terrified dog that couldn’t go any further. We finally reached the southern base that rested on a range and still towered over the valley. The view looking back up the ridge was unreal. It is truly a unique looking mountain. A storm was moving in and we tried to make good time. We covered several miles and crossed several intersecting trails before arriving at the door of our residence for the night- just as a rain picked up. The place was a thing of beauty. It was simple and small, but had tons of sleeping room, a dinner table, a stocked bookshelf, and even an outdoor compost privy! We quickly filtered water in the rain and rinsed off in the stream. We ate dinner to the sound of rain on the metal roof, and thunder moving closer. We cou
ldn’t help but take a nap- one that was interrupted by what sounded like a cannonball was shot through the front door. We could see that lightening was coming down in bolts on the summit. Over the course of the night the storm reached a fever pitch. It was worse than any I have seen, even when living in Kansas. It reminded me of the story of Martin Luther’s conversion experience. Suddenly it seemed less silly. In the morning, the woods looked like they took a beating. After packing up, we walked over rivers that were a trail the day before. Trees had fallen everywhere. We had made such good distance earlier that now we didn’t have much left to cover. A few hours later we were at our car just after lunchtime. This hike was one of the most enjoyable thanks to stronger legs, nicer gear, good company, and the kindness of a Green Mountain Club trail keeper. Vermont is beautiful!!!
as used on a historical map by Ira Allen in 1798, and this became "Camel's Hump" in 1830. The Park came about as an original gift of 1000 acres including the summit from Colonel Joseph Battell, who originally bought Camel's Hump to preserve the view of the mountain from his home. In 1911, care of the mountain was entrusted to the State Foresters who managed with the aim to keep it in a primitive state according to Battell's wish. The state fought proposed intrusions by communications towers and ski resorts until the summit's Natural Area was officially set aside. In 1969, special legislation was passed to turn the roughly 20,000 acres on and around the mountain into Camel's Hump State Park. Camel's Hump now remains one of the few undeveloped peaks among the mountains of Vermont. We were excited to check it out and happy to have my brother Adam, and recent college graduate, along for the trip. It was also great to be able to split up the d
riving. We travelled overnight and arrived in the light of the early morning to see the beautiful landscape that is Vermont. We discovered that the record winter snowfall and spring rain had eroded many of the access roads we needed to reach our trailhead. This state park is a popular destination, and the park service was diligent in making accommodations for the ruined roads. We parked in a “winter” parking lot about a half mile from where we had planned- not bad. We hiked the distance over the closed roads. They definitely were impassable; there were huge trenches eroded all around us. We passed a plaque commemorating the unexplained crash of an Air Force B-24 Liberator Bomber on October 16, 1944. It killed nine crewmen. The Army searched on the wrong side of the mountain for the wreckage, but a group of local teenagers saved the life of the sole survivor on the other side. This man lost his hands and feet to frostbite. Soon enough we were on Monroe Trail heading up the eastern side of the mou
ntain. I could tell that I was well rested from being able to sleep in the car, and that our legs have gotten stronger. We hiked for several hours before feeling like we needed a breather. The mountain was in a heavy fog, and the air was humid. All of the mist made it seem as though we were walking on the set of a movie. The trail climbed at a steep and steady grade. Much of the path had standing water, or as was more often the case, running water. Most of the area has only a thin layer of soil, and most of our travelling was across smooth, slick rocks. Hikes like these are made much more enjoyable by having nice gear. Our feet stayed dry, and so our spirits stayed up. Near the summit we were passed by the only other hiker we saw. He was a trail keeper for the Green Mountains Club who recently took on the job. He seemed to like us and offered to let us stay at a GMC lodge (actually a log shelter) without paying the usual 5 bucks per person. We decided to take him up on that offer, changing our route off the summit to reach the place. We broke above tree line and were eventually at the summit. The views were still hidden in the thick fog and clouds. In fact, visibility was only about 15 feet. But the eerie visibility was overshadowed by the whipping winds. The gusts much have been over 50 mph. We were blown off our feet several times thanks to the slick footing and our packs acting as sails. We had charged up the mountain, and now de
cided we had plenty of time to wait and hope that the clouds cleared out. We made ourselves as comfy as we could and ate lunch. Eventually the views could be seen through the patches of cloud, and they were awesome! We got our photo-ops out of the way and headed onward down the south face of the mountain. This route is a section of the 273 mile long “Long Trail” that is the oldest long-distance trail in the United States. The Long Trail follows the main ridge of the Green Mountains from the Massachusetts-Vermont line to the Canadian border as it crosses Vermont's highest peaks. It was the inspiration for the Appalachian Trail, which coincides with it for one hundred miles in the southern third of the state. Anyhow, this southern face gives the peak its iconic look and makes for a heart pounding descent. We dropped down the entire elevation in under a half mile while white knuckling over some of the m
ost exposed climbing we have ever seen. Every few steps, I would pause and appreciate how ridiculous of a place we were in. we passed one other hiker, and he was ascending this route- a safer choice. In his arms was a terrified dog that couldn’t go any further. We finally reached the southern base that rested on a range and still towered over the valley. The view looking back up the ridge was unreal. It is truly a unique looking mountain. A storm was moving in and we tried to make good time. We covered several miles and crossed several intersecting trails before arriving at the door of our residence for the night- just as a rain picked up. The place was a thing of beauty. It was simple and small, but had tons of sleeping room, a dinner table, a stocked bookshelf, and even an outdoor compost privy! We quickly filtered water in the rain and rinsed off in the stream. We ate dinner to the sound of rain on the metal roof, and thunder moving closer. We cou
ldn’t help but take a nap- one that was interrupted by what sounded like a cannonball was shot through the front door. We could see that lightening was coming down in bolts on the summit. Over the course of the night the storm reached a fever pitch. It was worse than any I have seen, even when living in Kansas. It reminded me of the story of Martin Luther’s conversion experience. Suddenly it seemed less silly. In the morning, the woods looked like they took a beating. After packing up, we walked over rivers that were a trail the day before. Trees had fallen everywhere. We had made such good distance earlier that now we didn’t have much left to cover. A few hours later we were at our car just after lunchtime. This hike was one of the most enjoyable thanks to stronger legs, nicer gear, good company, and the kindness of a Green Mountain Club trail keeper. Vermont is beautiful!!!
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