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This article, "Adventures on a Mountaintop," from the April 1860 issue of The Knickerbocker magazine tells about a mountain-climbing expedition in the Green Mountains of Vermont.

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Adventures on a Mountaintop

 

 

 

 

 

© 2020 Full Well Ventures

 

On the cover: Mount Mansfield, highest summit of the Green Mountains in Vermont.

Originally published in April 1860 issue of “The Knickerbocker” magazine

 

KNICKERBOCKER

Adventures on a Mountaintop

Written with the Quill of a Porcupine.

 

DURING THE summer of 1858 I ascended for the third time one of the highest summits of the Green Mountain ranges, which until within a few years has been comparatively little visited, is still unknown to the majority of summer tourists, but from which can be had a view of scenery, for variety, extent and grandeur, scarcely excelled on this continent. A good portion of the sentiment of traveling is lost even amid the utmost magnificence of Nature, as soon as the path begins to be beaten, and the crowd rushes in.

I was accompanied by one friend, and we expected to meet a guide at the little village of Stowe, which lies snugly nestled at the base of the great Mansfield Mountain. The weather looked doubtful, but we were unwilling to turn back without giving it a trial. Arrived at the point from which we were to begin the ascent, we perceived the unwelcome prognostics of foul weather. Drops of rain fell, while clouds and vapor assembled about the multitudinous peaks to obscure or shut out the panorama on which we had come to gaze. The expedition seemed fairly at an end. That bright and enthusiastic traveler, the eye, goes excursionizing over magnificent distances, leaps over chasms, flies delighted from summit to summit, only when the amber highway is clear. Should we turn back? It might be the last chance for my friend, Seth —, as his vacation was nearly at an end, and he must return to the flatlands of life, and might never see the Green Mountains again. There is many a dark and dismal morning which changes to a bright and balmy day. Oh! How fortunate to stop building when we have laid the foundation, to leave the field when we have put our hand to the plough, to drop the arrow when it is placed to the string, to go chasing after a kiss, and having just reached the lovely port. To lose our smack!