I had ridden bikes all day with a couple of friends. In my memory, it was one of my friend’s birthdays, and we were working on her goal of being able to ride Yo Vinny. Not without putting a foot down because that section of ladder around the big rock would always be tight. But at least getting over the fear of that big open rocky drop area right before you cross Great Eastern. It was a big day for my friend.
But it was the first anniversary of my dad’s death, and after a day with friends full of forced laughter and real, I needed a moment. And so that last gondi ride of the day, I said goodbye to my friends and headed up the black metal staircase for that 5-10 minute technical walk to the actual summit of Killington, where lies the second oldest exposed rock in the world and in 1763 the place where the state received her name, Ver-Mont.
Working at the bike shop for a few summers as a beginner bike tech, I cannot tell you how many times I repeated that exact phrase to tourists from around the world. I don’t know how many of them actually took me up on the walk, but they all seemed appropriately impressed by the age of the rock.
It is around 900 million years old. That is older than the Rockies, the Himalayas, and the Alps. Formed by glaciers over a billion years ago, it now serves as this hidden moment just off the K1 Gondola. If you had never looked, you would never have noticed the little trail and staircase that winds you around over Catwalk to the peak, but when you do, I find that your whole perspective of the mountain kind of changes.
And so I walked along that narrow path, through the tight pine trees, over rocks, and that awkward wooden staircase that is so precarious come wintertime when it is filled with ice even on days when there is no ice to be seen anywhere. A little bit further, you can finally see the rock itself, the true summit of Killington and Rutland County sprawled beneath your feet. It’s majestic, our very own Sistine Chapel—a place where we can talk to our gods or just let the wind caress our faces.
There’s nothing like it. I have sat on the top of a lot of mountains, especially ones throughout Vermont, and there’s something different about Killington. Maybe it’s the age of the rock that makes me feel more connected to the earth than anywhere else. Perhaps it’s the Calvin Coolidge State Forest below, making the urban world seem further away than other peaks I’ve summited. Maybe it’s just that Killington is my forever home, a place with so many memories of my dad and my family.
While the peak is also a quiet place for reflection and thought, an opportunity to experience the world as it once was and always has been (as long as you keep your back to all the manmade towers), it is also a Mecca. Everyone should make their annual trip to the peak to remind themselves that Killington isn’t just a resort but an ancient mountain filled with secrets to explore and learn. A mountain that deserves our respect and awe, even as we fly down her beautiful sides.
I took Team PomPom to the peak this past weekend and even they realized that this was something special. They sat and looked out at the view. Let’s be honest: silence isn’t their strong suit, and they had many stories to tell me about how some of them had been there in the summer and how cool it was to be here in the winter. How much higher we were than anyone else who was getting off the gondola, and if I had ever climbed the fire tower? No comment.
It never fails to impress people, this beautiful summit that we have. It even scares many of them, thinking that they will fall off the frontside. I’ve seen folks slip on the spur trail down to Coop’s in the summer; I have even tried to ascend the spur in the winter in my ski boots without traction. It was not one of my smarter choices in life, but we eventually made it safe and sound without uprooting any trees being used for life support.
Whatever the season, the summit of Killington is magical. Whether you hit the light just right for the last chair or an early up for sunrise during a blowing storm, or just take a quick jaunt to celebrate an amazing inversion, the beauty never seems to diminish in this most sacred of all places. It is the greatest place to reconnect with nature—and yourself.
Merisa Sherman is global real estate advisor, town official, and Coach PomPom. She can be found on socials @FemaleSkiBum or at [email protected].
