We resumed our ascent of Mount Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts at 3,491 feet. At the top is a Veterans War Memorial Tower where we had our morning snack.
The signs signaling us down the summit were not only confusing, but pointed in the wrong direction. We ignored them and followed the path that actually looked like it was going down.
We followed a ridge to Mount Williams and then plummeted down the mountain into Williamstown, Massachusetts.
The trail has been leading us through all sorts of towns lately. This is indicative of why the Appalachian Trail was originally created: to give people in town an outlet into nature.
Rode a couple of trail-magic bikes to the Stop and Shop for yet another resupply and lunch. Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs, so we had to pack out some of the food we bought for lunch.
We dropped the bikes off and the homeowners let us fill up our water bottles too. It felt great riding a bike again; wind in our hair... Why are we hiking again? Oops, I digress.
The climb back up to the ridge was gradual, but tiring with the midday heat. We crossed into Vermont, our twelfth state, and set up camp shortly after the border. Slathered my burns in Neosporin again for the night. Leg is much better, but hand still feels like a really bad sunburn.
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