I've got a buddy whose family owns a little A-frame in Chittendon, maybe 15 miles away from
Killington. Maybe once or twice a year my old high school friends will arrange a get together up
there. What used to constitute quaffing large amounts of Catamount and running through the snow in
our underwear, sledding down his long and winding driveway in a kayak, blasting shotguns and
whatnot, is now 'family weekend time'. Instead of bikes, the guys now bring up wives and wee
snot-packed toddlers. It's all very nice. For them. I arrived single, with a hardtail and a mission.
I looked through a book on VT trails. This book had been used in previous ventures in which we'd
found ourselves lost. WAY lost. Bickering, cannibalism lost. The book dated from 1989, and I'd be
riding alone. I figured an unexperienced (riding, anyway) but known quantity might be the way to go.
killington.comkillington mountain bike.pdfOpen ↗
I drove Rt 4 up to the entrance road up to the main lodge/rental center. You can buy a lift ticket,
or ask Lou in the shop for a way up according to your abilities and desires. I rode towards the lift
and made a left, which put me on Trail 1, starting at 2450'. Trail 1 is a dry, loose-gravel
fireroad: gradual, patience-trying, most of it doable in the middle chainring. It's a good warmup,
and a good way to find out my old XT Crapidfire didn't want to drop into the granny. (Next year,
SRAM in front!) I was able to keep a tolerable spin, though, so no biggie. I was being passed in the
opposite direction by a lot of beginner-types on rented Jamises who looked like they were having a
good ol' time. Lou warned that I'd start getting nutty on 1, and to look for turn-offs onto the more
technical Trail 6. There would be a few opportunities on the way up so I didn't have to lunge at the
first one. I did anyway. My first look at 6 (map be damned) was a hard right straight up a damp,
dank, rooty trail. I pedalled harder to make the transition, dropped the front into the granny, and
BAM! Chainsuck/broken chain. DOH! After tossing the link, giving mosquitoes their fill, and dropping
the chain by hand into the granny, I tried it again. Nice stuff. The soil was tacky, the roots were
slimy and off camber, and the gravity jugheads were giving me the right of way. A few notable
switchbacks, but mostly just turning and twisting trails. I was able to hump up around 85%, and
carried the bike up the rest. If I rode there regularly, I'd think the other 15% would become
doable. Admittably, I was pretty happy to find Trail 1 again, though. Trail 1 became 4 became 2
became 1 again, and then I was at the peak. 1, 2, and 4, are all wide trails of similar terrain --
loose, dry, rocky. It's a more scenic, winding route than Trail 1 alone, and it got me to Killington
Peak's 4241'. It was chilly and windy at the top, probably 10 degrees colder than the temp outside
the base lodge. I went inside, ordered a tasty cheeseburger, and looked out the large windows at the
surrounding Green Mountains. It was nice. Packed up, and headed out. I'd taken the west side of the
mountain up, and now I was heading back down the east side. I took Trail 1 straight down to 2, which
was steep and fast and boucy enough for me to remember I should probably back some of the pressure
out of my tires and lower my seatpost. Trail 2 became 7, which was doubletrack, dry, open, and fast,
with some drainage ruts to watch for. As usual, my too-light-for-my-210lbs and flexy Marzocchi
SuperFly's steering felt badly overmatched. I arrived at junction with 11, 13, and 15. Lou
recommended 11, so I had to climb uphill a bit to get on. Trail 11 was sort of like 6 -- dark, damp,
rooty, more technical and fun. There were small dropoffs, and small wooden bridges and ladder-trails
began to emerge. I was starting to wonder when that 8' dropoff would appear, which, thankfully,
never happened. Nice XC trails. I came upon a bunch of guys on freeride bikes trying a log crossing
and pushed on. I was trying to ease off the brakes and took a couple of turns too hot, came up on a
mud pit, braked too hard and went ass-over-[censored]. It must have looked like something, but the mud was
a soft landing. I was reasonably close to the base lodge anyway. I finished Trail 11 and got back
onto 7 from which the lodge was visible. I coasted it in, locked up the bike (I AM from NYC, after
all), and walked in for a snack. I reached into my jersey pockets and, damn. No wallet. This led to
the hiking part of the ride.... /s