Epic Hikes of Washington State - Green Mountain

Green Mountain

Date Hiked: August 9th, 2025

Trail Hiked: Green Mountain via Gold Creek and Wildcat Trails, Green Mountain Lookout via Gold Creek Trail, Green mountain via Davis and Gold Creek Trail, 

Distance Hiked: 9.87 miles

Elevation Gain: 1414 ft. 

Duration: 3h 26m

Green Mountain is one of those hikes that would be the highlight of an entire region in most states.

But in Washington, it's more of a "hey, it's close!" 

That is not to disparage the hike whatsoever, it was a lot of fun. The gains were intense but not exhausting, the mix of terrain and sights were pretty decent, and coming out to the overlook was pretty sweet once the forest cleared way. But, again, it's Washington, so the best views are of mountain hikes that would probably be significantly more awesome and intense, so it's an odd mix of feeling accomplished and... I don't know... like settling for a somewhat moderate hike when a quest would've been attainable? 

It doesn't make sense, but even in the thumbnail above, I crave the gains and views that would've been better than this one. 

Then I also have to remind myself that hikes like this are necessary to get to hikes like the ones in the distance, and I have to say "shut up with your facts and logic, Brain. I want to do the bigger mountains!" Easier to say a year later with strong mental health and another year's worth of experience, strength, conditioning, and progress, but alas.

The summer of 2025 in Washington had been the exact opposite of the stereotypical expectations. When one pictures Washington state, there's normally a lot of misty rain, fog, and other conditions that implore folx to find those Vitamin D supplements and have them at the ready. Instead, it was unexpectedly dry, sunny, and clear, leading to skylines and horizons such as this one, with infinitely better visibility than, say, my Mt. Walker hike where the view was non-existent. 

Without the gaping void in my soul and the constant pit in my stomach, I think I would've appreciated this one a lot more than I did at the time. Hiking was an escape from a spirit-crushing depression (soon rectified by the correct medication and life alterations), and I don't think I appreciated a hike like this for much more than the squiggly circle on the app and the cumulative stats that followed the conclusion. It makes me want to go back for another chance to appreciate it more, but with the aforementioned experience and conditioning, I simultaneously want to pursue the harder ones I avoided at the time. It's admittedly a privileged position to be in, but those views call to me more than they did at the time, understandably. 

I sound like I'm trashing the hike, and I don't mean to. It's a decent hike with a lovely view, but I remember next to nothing about it, and that's on me, not the hike itself. I was just in such a bad place at the time that even something like "not doing a more difficult hike" felt like a personal failure for which I should've felt guilty. Such a weird thing to say. 

What a difference taking care of one's mental health makes! 

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 12

 

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 12: June 4th, 2026

States Hiked: Connecticut, Rhode Island (13 total so far)

Trails Hiked: Stone Bridges Trail, Fort Adams Loop

Distance Hiked: 5.3 miles, 5.8 miles

Elevation Gain: 62 ft. elev. gain, 236 ft. elev. gain

Cumulative Wander: 86.1 miles

Duration: 1h 46m, 1h 46m

Day 11

Day 10

Day 9

Day 8

Day 7

Day 6, Part 2

Day 6, Part 1

Day 5

Day 4

Day 3

Day 2

Day 1

Getting around tolls in New England isn't easy when the alternative is driving down 30mph speed limit roads that even time and space forgot in the dustbin, but alas, what is a wander if not finding strange, unusual, and less-traveled places? 

A pain in the ass, but in this case, at least the hotel was close to something that would allow me to check another state off the list before I traveled to the one I was excited about.

Turns out, even walking under a highway bridge was set to be the pain of the ass variety that day, a fitting omen for what was to come. 

After having to cross the street twice to avoid highway ramps and sidewalk construction, I meandered through the "olde village" of Mystic, which looked pretty neat, truthfully. With more time and less urgency, I might've made some stops along the way. It reminded me of Renfaire but with a latter century twist, and there was also a giant-ass aquarium. Had it not been a perfect weather day in early June, I would've partaken, but the ass-draggingly slow drive through the town later made me glad I didn't opt for that. 

Instead, I crossed the street to a hotel where the trailhead supposedly was, and the difficulty I had finding the access point should've been an omen in and of itself. 

Maybe I'm just a nitpicky trail snob, but I enjoy things like being able to see the trail, not having vines and thorns crossing the trail, and knowing where the hell it's actually going, also with a dash of "that's not a trail, that's a field with no path." 

I also didn't see any stone bridges on the Stone Bridges trail. 

The latter half was somewhat better in terms of being able to walk through it without bushwhacking with a katana, but that's not saying much. 

Heading to Newport while once again trying to avoid tolls added an hour to the commute, and that was before there were multiple accidents getting through Providence. Then I tried parking next to what looked like a bike trail, but the limo drivers and bus presence alerted me that it might not be zoned for my type of activity. 

Once upon a time, I lived in Newport for a hot minute, and I thought it'd be cool to return 20 years later and check out what I couldn't appreciate at the time. I now understand why Dad wouldn't drive except to work in Fall River, because I could've walked through town faster than I drove. I eventually found free parking next to the shore, but saw no trail or even a sidewalk. This led to traversing the road to Fort Adams on very narrow roads, and by the time I looped around said fort while unsuccessfully finding a loo, I gave up on eating in town as well as trying to find the statue of my famous ancestor in the square.

This day was made of nope. 

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 7

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 7: May 30th, 2026

States Hiked: New Hampshire, Vermont (9 total so far)

Trails Hiked: Burnt Mountain, Kent's Ledge, Burlington Waterfront

Distance Hiked: 3.0 miles, 4.6 miles, 4.7 miles

Elevation Gain: 358 ft, 1040 ft., 167 ft.

Cumulative Wander: 50.7 miles

Duration: 1h 20m, 2h 11m, 1h 37m

Day 6, Part 2

Day 6, Part 1

Day 5

Day 4

Day 3

Day 2

Day 1

The first stop of the day was getting my New Hampshire state count. I planned to put in more miles than that, but... Well, I'll just let my AllTrails review speak for itself on that one. "You might enjoy this trail either if you've always wanted to know what it's like to hike up a cascading creek, or if you're a particularly ambitious frog." 

The third stop of the day was the Burlington waterfront, which was mostly because I'd done it years ago before I was a hiker and I wanted to see if it hit the same. It did, it's lovely. 

But this post was always going to be about Star's Hollow. 

If the entire wandering vacation had been about visiting this place and nowhere else, I still would not have considered it a waste. 

This may not mean anything to you if you don't start Gilmore Girls over from the beginning every autumn, but once Carole King's voice comes over those credits, there sits this idyllic New England town of Star's Hollow. While based on Washington Depot, Connecticut, it's visually represented by South Royalton, Vermont. 

I needed an excuse to go there beyond my vague kinship with Rory Gilmore as a social outsider who immersed themselves with the Ivy League trust fund kinds for four years, so I hiked up Kent's Ledge first. Maybe I was hoping the hill would present a good opportunity for a credits-like shot of the town, but I didn't have a budget and professional cameras. I knew full well the highway blocked out the angle from the credits, but it was worth a shot anyway. Maybe people only said that because they didn't feel like hiking up a 1000-foot hill first. No such luck.

Kent's Ledge is said 1000-foot hill, and probably abused my calves more with my alpine tundra decisions only the day ere, but alas. The entire climb builds up to a couple rocks the size of a living room overlooking the other side of the valley, and a friendly doggo ran up, and oh gosh when the humans attached to those dogs apologize to me for the best part of my day... 

This one had moved there from Minneapolis though. What are those odds?

The view was fine. Everything was fine. But then I descended into town, a population of which would've been scary in most states, but this is Vermont. Coffee shop, super gay. A town square like Star's Hollow sat dead center, but two gazebos adorned all the conversations about Dean-like creatures, appropriately. I grabbed a burger at the place next to the railroad tracks, Worthy Burger. The people were quirky and wonderful, it was the best burger I ever had in my life, the fries were great, the locally-bottled soda was amazing, and the 11-dollar coffee stout was worth every cent. 

In other words, this place was a perfect stand-in for "what if Twin Peaks but mostly nice things happened instead of rampant tulpa head blowy-uppy shenanigans?" 

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 6 - Part 1

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 6: May 29th, 2026

States Hiked: Vermont (8 total so far)

Trails Hiked: Camel's Hump via Forest City, Long, and Burrows Trail

Distance Hiked: 6.7 miles

Elevation Gain: 2536 ft

Cumulative Wander: 38.4 miles

Duration: 5h 8m

Day 5

Day 4

Day 3

Day 2

Day 1

Now this was a fucking hike. 

I hadn't been to Vermont since 2017, and shall we say, my previous visits were not of the pursuit of hiking. That said though, memories of staying at a ski resort in May at a place with zen concepts instead of room numbers, lobby puppers, musical instruments, and a ski mountain free of tourists were prominent in my mind as I prepared to go on an adventure. This was why I'd opted for limited tracks until this point. I wanted to get out and do a real mountain. Not an Iron Range mountain, not a Mississippi Bluff, not even a delightful rock staircase in Wisconsin, I wanted to traverse a real mountain as I'd done with seven others in the summer of 2025. 

Though it was cheating on the concept of a wander a bit, I googled what the best mountain hikes in Vermont were, but I had a purpose in mind. I happened upon some discussion, where many contributors were saying that X and Y were good, family friendly, accessible, and wouldn't be too difficult, whereas Burrows would use muscles you didn't know you had. The one they were avoiding, Burrows: that was what I craved.

I checked the weather. Thunderstorms were possible later in the afternoon, which with summers on the east coast is practically an obvious consideration. Therefore, I found my destination as soon as I could, though perhaps I should've given a few extra seconds of thought to not wear a tanktop. Spoiler for later.

Nearly immediately, the trail reminded me of Cougar Mountain and other places in the Pacific Northwest that I hadn't visited since my summer in Washington. It may sound silly, but while the aesthetic was nearly identical, it somehow felt... older. Which, in the strictest of geological senses, is accurate, but still, this place felt ancient in grandeur and respect of the environment. I was captivated by its awestruck imposition. 

Vermont hikers are on a different level, though I did question my decision to do a longer, more difficult loop while seeing so many descending on the out-and-back. I should've listened. While strapped in with my hiking pack, covered in bug spray, leg strings clenched, and extra water stowed, many of the descending parties were in shorts with no supplies at all, much to my surprise and respect. The most badass of all though was a young woman coming down this slick, muddy, rocky trail with a very small baby strapped to her chest. What impressed me most about them as a whole? All of them followed trail code. All of them were extremely nice, not Minnesota Nice. All of them seemed sincere, and even I, the mountain recluse, stopped for several lovely conversations. 

The mud was deep, slippery, and abundant with puddles. The rocks invoked dry spot hopscotch, but weren't exactly arid. The inclines got more intense and the air felt like rain. By contrast to later, this would seem a stroll in the woods. 

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 4

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 4: May 27th, 2026

States Hiked: Pennsylvania (6 total so far)

Trails Hiked: The Parking Garage to the Arena and Back

Distance Hiked: 1.9 miles

Elevation Gain: 17 ft

Cumulative Wander: 26.1 miles

Duration: 

Day 3

Day 2

Day 1

Does this technically count as a hike?

Probably not. 

Am I going to make up for the Pennsylvania count on the way back through, since I grew up there and know the spots?

Most likely.

Is anyone but my own dumb head holding me to this arbitrary standard I made up for no other reason than setting ridiculous goals akin to “do the Minnesota Hiking Club in one winter?”

Definitely not. 

But hey, when you're already heading to the east coast, Pennsylvania besties call up and say they have tickets to AEW Dynamite, and your schedule is flexible since the whole point of a wander is having very few actual plans, well… shit got bumped back a few weeks. 

Four years of commuting to Philly for uni must've been a big factor in not having returned there but once in the nine years since I accorded my graduation in case 45 showed up again like the previous year. 

Oh, the sentences one gets to say as a token poor kid at a rich school…

Speaking of Shit Privileged White Kids From Prep Academies Say, a game more popularly known as Rory Gilmore in seasons 1-3, the show was at Temple, and the way those kids reacted when I drove Uber there…

“You went to Temple? It's so dangerous there!”

“I know, I got murdered three times on the way home.”

Five of us packed in for the ride, and what a nostalgia trip it was, only this time I wasn't driving on the roads designed for particularly stately horse carriages and Ben Ftanklin’s ere days of the party bus prototypes. Essentially cuddling with my new friend as three of us sat in the backseat, the conversations and whimsy was in full effect. 

The “hike” was walking from the parking garage to the venue and back, but when one is dressed like chick Darby Allin in vinyl shorts, fishnet, and the quality makeup of a professional dominatrix goth who also officiates weddings as Crow-era Sting, the standards of difficulty are alerted appropriately. 

The show itself was tremendous, but more fun was watching my four carpool cuddle buddies experience their first live wrestling show, unlike this moderately jaded fuck who told stories about the show in Philly 20 years ago where I slept on a marble dorm room floor (oh to be young again), melted in the sun while hoping that LiveJournal friend (Google it, kids) showed up with the tickets he promised, and actively enjoyed the Philly crowd special called “We Don't Care Who Wins As Long As John Cena Loses.”

The true wander was about to begin, but calling an audible to keep a five-year-old promise to go to their first show with my favorite people beats upholding the roles I made up myself every time. I was going to get plenty of hiking in. This was an opportunity that only happens once, and I'll pay my own late fees by doing a difficult Pennsylvania hike on the way back.

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 3

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 3: May 26th, 2026

States Hiked: Michigan, Indiana, Ohio (5 total so far)

Trails Hiked: Riverview Park (Niles, Michigan), Loon Lake Reserve (Angola, Indiana), Wauseon, Ohio (Adventure Labs)

Distance Hiked: 1.8 miles, 1.0 miles, 4.3 miles

Elevation Gain: 43 ft., 52 ft., 69 ft.

Cumulative Wander: 24.3 miles

Duration: 3h 12m

Day 2

Day 1

I could've picked up Illinois on the list, but after driving into Chicago on Memorial Day and spending 20 minutes trying to get one block (because what's the best place to stand around on Memorial Day, the middle of the street is the best place to stand around on Memorial Day, because something something the troops freedom sad face?), I opted to yeet myself from the state rather than try to figure out where in the concrete jungle I should go while also hoping I'd escape the worst of Tuesday morning rush hour.

Turns out, anywhere in Chicago would've been better than Niles, Michigan. 

I spoke in Flint in 2017, and it was a transformative experience in my life. That not withstanding, I am an Ohio native and come from several generations of Buckeyes, and even though I don't care about sports nearly as much as I used to, crossing that state border still makes me feel like some kind of traitor, even knowing that states are irrelevant, arbitrary, invisible colonial lines. Then again, I'm tallying up said lines, so maybe I'm the problem. 

The roads immediately upon crossing into Michigan start feeling like they're going to punish you and your poor decision making for daring to enter. I only picked this place because it was close to the Indiana Turnpike, and I wanted to make the cameo brief while checking it off the list. All three hikes today were shorter than my standards normally allow, but I needed to make Pennsylvania at a reasonable hour. 

Then I got called a "dumb fuck" for daring to get in the way of a mediocre white guy while he was jogging. Slight overreaction for a momentary inconvenience, gosh Chad LaRue, what are you gonna do when someone gives you a real problem like stopping for a red light when you didn't want to? Second thought, bad idea, you'd probably blow out a tire accelerating your F-150 through one of those intersections at some dangerous speed like 30. Fuck your face, douchebag. 

After my bad mood of that hike, which had a cool bridge and little else, Indiana was a temptation to skip. After all, the most amusing thing in Indiana is normally the Bill Engvall billboard near the Ohio border advertising a show that happened in... ::checks sign:: 20-goddamn-18. Here's your sign, indeed. But once I checked the AllTrails map near Angola and saw something called Loon Lake, well... Loon Whore, thy name is me. It was a tick-infested nothing of a trail, but it checked the list.

Wauseon, Ohio had a bunch of Adventure Labs... for some reason. But it's emblematic of the reason I love to randomly wander: cool old buildings, amazing pink house, mural of magicians, repurposed train depot, and a bunch of Geocaching finds to approach my monthly goal. I still don't know how to pronounce your name, Wauseon, but you're an all-star... at least compared with Niles, Michigan. Extremely low bar to clear, but alas, cleared nonetheless.

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 2

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 2: May 25th, 2026

States Hiked: Wisconsin, Minnesota

Trail Hiked: St. Croix Loop

Distance Hiked: 5.6 miles

Elevation Gain: 351 ft. 

Cumulative Wander: 17.2 miles

Duration: 1h 37m

Day 1

Before you accuse me of being lazy for knocking off the second state this close to my home area, hear me out. 

Something sucked out my mind and replaced it with stupid on this day, and I did the best I could without completely losing it. 

My first true wander in years started off with buggering it up no less than five times just simply trying to find my way to saying goodbye to someone. I went to the wrong branch of the restaurant, then got off the wrong exit (twice) trying to get to their partners’ place (that I’ve driven to no less than seven times), missed the turn to get back on the 94, and parked in the wrong spot trying to use a gender neutral restroom on the way out. By the time I reached the last part of that series of shenanigans, I conceded my own mental state to hike through a tourist town on a holiday Sunday, put on my headphones and my “shit is way too fucking bright” sunglasses, and ignored everyone and everything until I completed it. 

Half of it is in Wisconsin, and I parked on the Houlton side, so it counts. I hiked in the second state on my list. I even stopped in Beloit to do an Adventure Lab for all of .3 miles later, so if this one doesn’t count, I’ll combine the both for the technicality of the checklist I completely made up. 

I’ve hiked the Stillwater loop more times than nearly any other trail in Minnesota, even before I really considered myself a hiker at all. It’s a lovely trail, albeit a heavily-touristed one, as it crosses two impressive bridges to complete the loop. Granted, one is the iconic lift bridge, so it’s vastly more appealing. The other is a beautiful suspension bridge that would be wonderful for hiking and the views as it ascends (or descends, depending on the direction of travel) over the St. Croix Valley into/out of Wisconsin, but what ruins it is not just the amount of traffic, but how loud said traffic is. Nothing quite says “escape into nature” like Dale and his souped up F-150 that’s like all his other friends’ souped up F-150s in order to showcase how he’s a rebel and a unique individual, floor it while crossing lanes and making sure to own the libs with that sick, sick obnoxiously loud engine designed to do nothing more than tell who he is as a person in enginicular form. 

But, after screwing up five times, which is five more times than I usually do while traveling (I wasn’t called the human GPS for my tendency to make navigational errors), I really didn’t care about anything but putting in a few miles and doing a hard reset on this Great Wander of 2026. Got it out of the way, headed to Chicago once again as my first resting point, and put some miles and a pushpin on the map.

The Great Wander of 2026 - Day 1

 

The Great Wander of 2026

Day 1: May 24th, 2026

State Hiked: Minnesota

Trail Hiked: Big Rivers Regional Trail

Distance Hiked: 11.6 miles

Elevation Gain: 499 ft. 

Duration: 3h 32m

I came to the conclusion that I needed to return to my roots. 

After traveling for so many years with the purpose of seeing another, or speeding somewhere else in the country for an emergency, I started to realize that while my frequent flier miles weren’t accumulating anymore, my travel budget had concurrently expanded rapidly. I’d limited my wandering to a confined area in the hopes of finding the everlasting, lost-to-me home through which I hoped my spirit would find solace and station. But, as it turned out, even with graduating DBT therapy, a proper diagnosis and the according medication, and the happiest and most stable state of being I’d ever experienced, the nomadic spirit does not dissipate. 

I have this deep deep feeling in my ribs again…

Therefore, with all the PTO I’ve managed to not use, I decided that I needed to wander like I once did in my youth, while leaving out the part of not having any gas money, or the mental stability to pay attention to where I was, or a fixed address, or any kind of support system, or any kind of impulse control. But in every other way, just like it used to be. 

I set an arbitrary goal for myself: 17 states/provinces in which I would hike (and Geocache.) Very little else was permanent and non-adjustable, as evidenced by bumping up the dates by two weeks when some friends invited me to AEW: Dynamite in Philadelphia, so returning to my alma mater and keeping a long held promise to be with them when they went to their first wrestling show, I was more than willing to accommodate that into my (lack of an) itinerary. That’s the great thing about wandering with no particular destination; never late, never early, always right where one needs to be.

I started off the wandering by knocking out the easiest state, the one where I live. I didn’t take the car, for during a holiday weekend in nice weather, it wasn’t even worth trying to find a place that wasn’t flooded with trail tourists, so I walked across the 494 and finally tried to get the Verified Complete badge that had eluded me several other times on the Big Rivers Regional Trail. Despite there being more bikes than mosquitos, and my personal distaste for the branch of the marked trail that requires crossing roads and meandering through suburban hell, I managed to finally achieve that squiggly circle on the fourth attempt. 

This trail is lovely, though I imagine it’s more fun on a bike. Running next to the rivers, looking down at Pike Island where they split, and also making a brief cameo in Mendota (no Heights), it’s adequate. I wasn’t hiking for the enjoyment of it, it was just to remove the need of hiking before I left the state and the real travel began the next day. 

I am my own arrow, I am my own home. It’s alright, it’s all I’ve ever known.