There were only a few times I was forced off the trail because of the weather. My mantra was “no pain, no rain, no Maine.” The last time I was forced to seek shelter from a storm, and one of the few times I legitimately feared for my safety, was over Bromley Mountain in Vermont. Read on →

There were only a few times I was forced off the trail because of the weather. My mantra was “no pain, no rain, no Maine.” The last time I was forced to seek shelter from a storm, and one of the few times I legitimately feared for my safety, was over Bromley Mountain in Vermont.

The rain started shortly after I began hiking. The weather was iffy for most of that week, but this day it just poured. By the time I got to the top of Bromley, I was soaked through, and the wind over the peak was freezing. The warming hut offered shelter when I stopped at around 1:30 for lunch. When I struggled out of my soaked rain jacket to eat, I started shivering and couldn’t stop. Even though I planned for an additional seven miles that day, it wasn’t worth risking hypothermia.