Surviving Vermont’s Most Dangerous Insects

Most people think Vermont is safe.

They picture rolling green hills, maple syrup, quiet towns, clean air, and a slower pace of life. They imagine danger comes from winter storms or maybe the occasional bear wandering too close to a campsite.

That kind of thinking gets people killed.

Not quickly.
Not dramatically.
But quietly, stupidly, and preventably.

The real threats in Vermont aren’t loud. They don’t roar. They don’t chase you. They sting, bite, infect, and disappear—while you’re busy assuming nothing serious could happen here.

I’ve spent years studying survival, risk patterns, and real-world emergencies. And one thing is constant: people underestimate small threats. Especially insects. Especially in places they believe are “low-risk.”

This article exists because complacency is deadlier than venom.

Let’s talk about the most dangerous insects in Vermont, how they can kill you under the wrong conditions, and—most importantly—what you can do to survive when things go wrong.


First, a Hard Truth About “Lethal” Insects in Vermont

Before we go any further, let’s be clear and professional:

Vermont does not have insects that routinely kill healthy people through venom alone.

There are no aggressive tropical spiders.
No scorpions.
No assassin bugs spreading Chagas disease.

But death doesn’t require exotic monsters. It requires biology, bad timing, and ignorance.

In Vermont, insects become deadly through:

  • Severe allergic reactions (anaphylaxis)
  • Disease transmission
  • Delayed medical response
  • Isolation from help
  • Repeated exposure or multiple stings

That’s how people die in “safe” places.


1. Bees, Wasps, Hornets, and Yellowjackets: The Most Immediate Killers

If you want the number one insect threat in Vermont, stop looking for something exotic.

It’s stinging insects.

Why They’re Dangerous

For most people, a sting is painful but survivable.

For others, a single sting can trigger anaphylaxis, a rapid and life-threatening allergic reaction that can:

  • Close airways
  • Drop blood pressure
  • Cause loss of consciousness
  • Kill within minutes

Many people do not know they are allergic until it happens.

That’s the nightmare scenario.

Yellowjackets and hornets are especially dangerous because:

  • They are aggressive
  • They sting repeatedly
  • They defend nests violently
  • They often attack in groups

You don’t need to provoke them. Landscaping, hiking, woodpiles, and outdoor eating are enough.

Survival Reality Check

If you are stung and experience:

  • Trouble breathing
  • Swelling of the face or throat
  • Dizziness or collapse

You are in a medical emergency.

Waiting it out is how people die.

Prepper Survival Measures

A professional prepper doesn’t rely on luck:

  • Know where nests commonly form (ground, eaves, sheds)
  • Wear protective clothing when working outdoors
  • Avoid scented products outdoors
  • Keep distance—don’t “tough it out”
  • If you know you’re allergic, emergency medication is not optional—it’s survival equipment

Angry truth?
People die every year because they didn’t want to “make a big deal” out of a sting.


2. Ticks: The Slow Killers Everyone Ignores

Ticks don’t look scary.

That’s their advantage.

Vermont has several tick species capable of transmitting serious diseases, including:

  • Lyme disease
  • Anaplasmosis
  • Babesiosis
  • Powassan virus (rare, but severe)

These are not inconveniences. They are life-altering illnesses.

Why Ticks Are Dangerous

Tick-borne diseases don’t kill quickly. They:

  • Damage the nervous system
  • Attack joints and organs
  • Cause chronic fatigue and pain
  • Create long-term disability

In rare cases, complications can be fatal—especially when diagnosis is delayed.

The real danger is neglect.

People don’t check.
They don’t treat bites seriously.
They don’t act early.

Survival Reality Check

Ticks don’t need wilderness. They thrive in:

  • Backyards
  • Tall grass
  • Wooded edges
  • Parks
  • Trails

You don’t need to be an outdoorsman to be exposed.

Prepper Survival Measures

Professionals treat tick prevention as routine discipline:

  • Full body checks after outdoor exposure
  • Light-colored clothing to spot ticks
  • Keeping grass and brush trimmed
  • Understanding that “I’ll check later” is unacceptable

Complacency doesn’t cause symptoms immediately. It ruins lives quietly.


3. Mosquitoes: Disease Vectors with a Body Count

Mosquitoes are responsible for more human deaths worldwide than any other animal.

Vermont is not immune.

While rare, mosquitoes in the region can carry serious viruses, including Eastern Equine Encephalitis (EEE).

EEE is uncommon—but when it happens, it is brutal.

Why Mosquitoes Are Dangerous

Severe mosquito-borne illnesses can cause:

  • Brain inflammation
  • Seizures
  • Permanent neurological damage
  • Death in extreme cases

The danger isn’t the bite. It’s what the bite injects.

Survival Reality Check

Outbreaks don’t announce themselves loudly. They emerge quietly, seasonally, and unpredictably.

People who think “it’s just a mosquito” are gambling with odds they don’t understand.

Prepper Survival Measures

Survival is about reducing exposure:

  • Limit outdoor activity at peak mosquito hours
  • Eliminate standing water near living areas
  • Use physical barriers like screens and protective clothing
  • Don’t ignore public health warnings—they exist for a reason

This isn’t paranoia. It’s risk management.


4. Fire Ants and Other Biting Insects: Rare, But Not Harmless

While fire ants are not native or widespread in Vermont, isolated encounters and travel exposure still matter.

Biting insects can cause:

  • Severe skin infections
  • Secondary bacterial complications
  • Dangerous reactions in vulnerable individuals

The threat increases with poor hygiene, immune compromise, or delayed treatment.

Survival Reality Check

Infections kill more people historically than venom ever has.

Ignoring wounds is how survival stories turn into obituaries.


The Bigger Picture: Why Insects Kill People Who “Should Have Been Fine”

People don’t die because insects are powerful.

They die because:

  • They underestimate risk
  • They delay action
  • They assume help will arrive fast
  • They trust luck instead of preparation

I’m angry about that—not at nature, but at denial.

Professional survival isn’t about fear.
It’s about respect for reality.


What a Real Survival Prepper Does Differently

A professional prepper doesn’t panic.
They prepare.

They understand:

  • Small threats compound
  • Minor injuries escalate
  • Delays kill

They treat prevention as boring—but mandatory.

No heroics.
No bravado.
No gambling with biology.


Final Thoughts: Vermont Is Beautiful—But It Doesn’t Care About You

Nature is not kind.
It is indifferent.

Vermont’s insects don’t hunt you—but they don’t forgive ignorance either.

You don’t survive by assuming you’re safe.
You survive by accepting that you’re not.

Stay alert.
Stay informed.
And stop underestimating the smallest things.

They’ve ended more lives than most people want to admit.

Vermont’s Worst Roads to Drive on During a Disaster

Vermont’s Worst Roads to Drive on During a Disaster — And How to Survive Them Behind the Wheel

By: A Well-Traveled Survivalist

Let me be clear—when disaster strikes, roads become more than routes. They become lifelines, battlegrounds, and bottlenecks. I’ve driven through hurricanes in Florida, wildfire evacuations in California, and flash floods in Texas. But Vermont? Vermont’s got a whole different beast when it comes to bad roads during bad times.

Between its winding mountain passes, frost-heaved asphalt, and dense tree cover, the Green Mountain State turns into a trap when the lights go out or the weather gets mean. Whether it’s a Nor’easter burying Route 100 under three feet of snow or a flash flood taking out bridges in Windham County, if you’re not prepared to drive like your life depends on it—you’re already a victim.

Let me walk you through the worst roads to avoid (or conquer) and then arm you with 15 crucial survival driving skills. And for those who really find themselves neck-deep in trouble, I’ve got three DIY hacks to keep you moving even when the tank runs dry.


Vermont’s Worst Roads During a Disaster

Here’s a short list of Vermont roads that’ll break your spirit (or your axle) in a disaster:

  1. Route 100 (from Killington to Waterbury) – Winding, narrow, and one rockslide away from being impassable. Gorgeous in fall, deathtrap in winter.
  2. Route 9 (Bennington to Brattleboro) – Prone to flooding, steep inclines, and black ice. This one gets shut down regularly in Nor’easters.
  3. Interstate 89 (Montpelier to Burlington) – The main artery in and out of Central Vermont. In a mass exodus, this becomes a clogged mess.
  4. Route 107 (Stockbridge area) – Mountain passes and not enough guardrails. One good rainstorm and you’re on mud.
  5. Route 17 (App Gap) – Twists like a snake and climbs fast. A driver’s nightmare in snow or fog.
  6. Kelly Stand Road (Searsburg) – Dirt and isolation. You’ll lose cell service and possibly your undercarriage.
  7. Route 108 (Smugglers’ Notch) – Seasonally closed, but people still try to push through. Don’t be one of them.
  8. Lincoln Gap Road – Just avoid it. It’s basically a hiking trail someone paved.
  9. Route 15 (Hardwick to Morristown) – Flooding danger, especially during late spring thaw.
  10. Danby Mountain Road – Off-grid and often washed out. The sort of place AAA won’t find you.

15 Survival Driving Skills for Disaster Conditions

You can have the best 4×4 on the market, but without the skills to match, you’re still a target. Here’s what every survivalist driver needs to master:

  1. Off-Road Navigation – Learn to read terrain and use topographic maps. GPS is unreliable in power outages or remote terrain.
  2. Throttle Feathering – Control your gas pedal in slippery conditions. Over-acceleration leads to spinning out or getting stuck.
  3. Tire Patching and Plugging – Know how to plug a tire on the fly. Keep a kit in your glove box, and practice before it matters.
  4. Field Tire Inflation – A hand pump or portable compressor can save your ride. Drop PSI on snow; boost it back for gravel.
  5. Braking in Skid Conditions – Don’t slam the brakes. Learn threshold braking and cadence braking for older vehicles without ABS.
  6. River and Flood Crossing Judgment – Never guess depth. A 12-inch current can float most vehicles. Know when to turn back.
  7. Spotting Hazards Ahead – Train your eyes to read the road 15 seconds ahead. It buys you time to react or reroute.
  8. Driving in Reverse at Speed – Sounds crazy? Try navigating a narrow escape route in reverse without stalling or crashing.
  9. Using Mirrors Like a Pro – Your mirrors are your sixth sense. Check every 10 seconds. Blind spots kill in disasters.
  10. Utilizing Low Gears – Downshift for better control in snow, mud, or downhill slopes. Don’t burn your brakes.
  11. Driving in Convoy Formation – Stick to 3-second gaps, signal intentions, and never bunch up. Panic leads to pileups.
  12. Navigating Without Lights – Cover tail lights with tape if you’re bugging out at night. Stay under the radar.
  13. Knowing When to Ditch – If your car’s stuck and burning gas, abandon it and hike. Your life is worth more than your ride.
  14. Distraction-Free Driving – Silence the phone. Every second counts. Your focus is your strongest survival tool.
  15. Fuel Conservation Techniques – Coast when you can. Idle as little as possible. Draft behind large vehicles (safely) to reduce drag.

3 DIY Survival Driving Hacks When You’re Out of Gas

When the needle’s on E and there’s no gas station for 50 miles, ingenuity keeps you moving. Here are three tricks I’ve used or witnessed in the field:

  1. Siphon and Filter
    If you’re in a pinch and spot an abandoned vehicle, you can siphon gas with a tube and gravity. Just make sure to filter it through a shirt, coffee filter, or even moss to catch debris before pouring it into your tank.
  2. Alcohol-Based Emergency Burn
    In a gasoline shortfall, denatured alcohol or isopropyl (91% or higher) can be used sparingly in older engines. This is for carbureted engines only—fuel-injected systems may not tolerate it well. It’s risky, but it can get you a few extra miles.
  3. Pressurized Bottle Fuel Pump
    Repurpose a soda bottle with a tire valve stem and a bit of hose. Pressurize the bottle with a bike pump and gravity-feed fuel into your engine. This works best with lawn equipment fuel tanks but can keep an old ATV alive in a pinch.

Final Thoughts From the Road

Survival is about preparation, skill, and knowing when to go and when to stay put. Vermont’s roads don’t forgive ignorance or indecision. In a disaster, they get slick, jammed, or vanish altogether. I’ve seen Subarus stranded and lifted trucks washed out. It’s not about what you drive—it’s how you drive it.

Know your routes. Scout secondary options. Keep maps printed and waterproofed. Fuel up before a storm, not after. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t trust your GPS when the sky’s falling—it doesn’t know that the bridge on Route 9 washed out last night.

Disasters favor the prepared and punish the reckless. Be the first, not the second.

Life on the Vermont Homestead: Not for the Faint of Heart

Let me tell you something right now: homesteading in Vermont ain’t your cozy Pinterest fantasy. It’s not sipping raw milk in a flower crown while your goat poses for Instagram. It’s real. It’s raw. And it will chew you up and spit you out if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. I’m talking black flies in your eyeballs, pipes that freeze solid by October, and crops that rot if you blink wrong during August humidity. You either toughen up or get back to the city where people think basil grows in the spice aisle.

People romanticize this lifestyle without knowing a damn thing about what it takes to survive out here, especially in the Green Mountains where the only thing greener than the landscape is a flatlander trying to milk a goat for the first time. But for those of us who know what we’re doing—those of us who bust our knuckles fixing busted solar inverters during January sleet—we thrive. And we earn every damn bite we eat.

15 Homestead Skills You Better Learn, Or Go Home

  1. Firewood Chopping and Stacking
    If you don’t know how to fell a tree, buck it up, and stack it so it seasons right, you’ll freeze your ass off and deserve it. Vermont winters don’t play nice.
  2. Animal Husbandry
    Chickens, goats, pigs, sheep. You better know how to feed them, birth them, vaccinate them, and yes, butcher them. We don’t raise pets—we raise protein.
  3. Composting
    Your waste better be working for you. Composting is the law of the land—nutrients in, nutrients out. And don’t come at me with that plastic bin nonsense.
  4. Preserving Food
    Canning, fermenting, drying, root cellaring—if you don’t know how to make summer harvests last through February, you’ll be buying limp grocery store lettuce like a chump.
  5. Basic Carpentry
    You’ll build chicken coops, cold frames, fences, and when the roof leaks? Guess who’s the roofer? You.
  6. Water Management
    Gravity-fed systems, rain catchment, greywater rerouting—you need to make every drop count, especially when your well pump quits mid-winter.
  7. Seed Saving
    Stop buying seeds like it’s a subscription service. Grow heirlooms, save the seeds, and you’ll never be at the mercy of shortages again.
  8. Cooking from Scratch
    There’s no takeout where we live. If you can’t turn a raw chicken and a handful of potatoes into a week of meals, get out of my face.
  9. Soap Making
    Because I’m not paying $9 for some factory-scented nonsense when I’ve got lard, lye, and lavender in my own damn backyard.
  10. Knitting and Mending Clothes
    If you think darning socks is quaint, wait until you rip your last pair during a blizzard and the road’s closed for three days.
  11. First Aid and Herbal Medicine
    There’s no urgent care around the corner. Chamomile for sleep, comfrey for bruises, garlic for infections. Know your plants or pay the price.
  12. Chainsaw Maintenance
    The saw is your best friend and your worst enemy. Sharpen that chain, mix your fuel right, and respect it—or it’ll bite you.
  13. Solar Power Setup and Maintenance
    You want off-grid? Then learn the difference between a charge controller and an inverter, or you’ll be reading by candlelight for the rest of your life.
  14. Trapping and Hunting
    Rabbits, deer, maybe even bear if things get tight. It’s not about sport—it’s about putting meat in the freezer.
  15. Plumbing and Septic Know-How
    One clogged pipe and you’re knee-deep in your own stupidity. Know how to snake a drain, insulate a pipe, and never trust PVC glue in the cold.

DIY Homestead Hacks That’ll Save Your Sanity (and a Few Bucks)

1. The “5-Gallon Gravity Shower” Hack
You want hot water but don’t have a fancy solar system? Paint a 5-gallon bucket black, mount it on a platform, and let the sun do the work. Add a spigot, hang a shower curtain in the woods, and boom—your very own hillbilly spa.

2. Eggshell Calcium Powder
Don’t throw those eggshells away! Dry them, crush them, and grind them into a fine powder. Sprinkle into garden beds for calcium-rich soil or feed to chickens for stronger shells. It’s like gold dust from the coop.

3. DIY Solar Dehydrator
All you need is an old window, some scrap wood, a black-painted back panel, and mesh trays. Angle it toward the sun, and you’ve got a food dehydrator that costs zero to run and works even during late September.


Vermont-Specific Rants from the Trenches

Now let’s talk about Vermont specifically, because folks seem to think living here is like moving into a Norman Rockwell painting. You think Vermont means cozy cabins and hot cider? Sure, if you like shoveling snow 3 times a day, running a generator when the inverter gives up, and chasing bears out of the compost pile at 2 a.m. with a shotgun in your bathrobe.

Vermont’s short growing season is not a joke. If you don’t get your seedlings in by Memorial Day and have your beds covered by frost in late September, you just flushed your growing efforts down the composting toilet. Speaking of which—if you’re not managing your humanure system responsibly, stay the hell off my land. We don’t poison our soil with ignorance.

And let’s talk taxes. They’re high. Ridiculously high. You think you’re gonna sell a few jars of jam and skate by? Good luck. Every chicken you raise, every log you cut, every damn goat you sell comes with paperwork, fees, inspections, and a bureaucracy that’s never set foot on a working farm.

But we do it anyway. Not because it’s easy, but because we’re stubborn and free and refuse to live under the fluorescent lights of a cubicle farm. We raise our own food, fix our own roofs, grow our own medicine, and take pride in knowing that when the power goes out or the store shelves go bare, we’ve already got what we need.

That’s Vermont homesteading. It’s mud season and sugaring and frost heaves that’ll wreck your axle. It’s biting wind and biting insects and stubborn neighbors who’ve been on their land longer than the state flag’s been flying. It’s resilience, not romance.


Final Word from a Grumpy Homesteader

So if you’re dreaming about Vermont homesteading, do me a favor: wake up. You’ll bleed, curse, and cry—but if you make it through a winter and still want more? Well then, maybe you’ve got what it takes.

Just don’t ask to borrow my chainsaw.

Is Vermont’s Drinking Water Safe? Here’s What They Don’t Want You to Know

Is Vermont’s Drinking Water Safe? Here’s What They Don’t Want You to Know

Let me start with a hard truth that most folks in flannel shirts sipping maple lattes in Burlington don’t want to hear: No, Vermont’s drinking water isn’t safe. Not safe enough. Not by a longshot. And if you think the government or some bureaucratic agency is going to come rescue your dehydrated rear end when the taps go dry or the wells go sour, you’re living in a fantasy.

I’ve lived off-grid in the Green Mountains for over 20 years. I don’t trust the power grid, I sure as hell don’t trust city water, and you’d better believe I don’t trust whatever limp-wristed “clean water initiative” Montpelier is bragging about this week. You want safe drinking water? You filter it yourself. You purify it yourself. You take responsibility—or you get sick, and you die. Simple.

What’s Wrong With Vermont’s Water?

Let’s start with the facts. Vermont is mostly rural, and while that sounds nice to the tourists, it comes with problems: old infrastructure, agricultural runoff, PFAS (aka “forever chemicals”), septic tank leaks, road salt contamination, and increasing climate-related flooding. And guess where all that lovely junk ends up? In your rivers, your lakes, your wells—and eventually your body.

Let’s not forget about lead pipes. They still exist. Thousands of homes still carry water through corroded, outdated plumbing. Don’t think your “organic” lifestyle is protecting you if your water runs through 60-year-old lead solder joints.

Oh, and those charming private wells in the countryside? Most of them aren’t tested regularly. Vermonters are supposed to test their wells annually, but that’s about as likely as a flatlander learning to split firewood properly.

You Need Survival Water Skills. Now.

Don’t wait until your town issues a boil-water notice. Don’t wait until your tap water smells like pond scum. Don’t wait until you’re squatting in the woods because you drank from a “clean” spring that some deer carcass died upstream of. Learn these 15 essential water filtration survival skills while you still can:


🔥 15 Water Filtration Survival Skills Every Vermonter Needs

  1. Boiling – Basic but effective. Boil water for at least 1 minute (3 at elevation). Kills bacteria, viruses, and protozoa. If you can’t boil water, you’re not ready to survive a PTA meeting, let alone a disaster.
  2. Sand and Charcoal Filter – Layer gravel, sand, and activated charcoal in a bottle or pipe. Gravity-fed. Great for removing sediment and some chemicals.
  3. Solar Still – Dig a hole, add vegetation and a cup in the center. Cover with plastic wrap and a stone. The sun evaporates water, and it condenses in the cup. Slow, but life-saving.
  4. DIY Biosand Filter – Use layers of fine sand, coarse sand, gravel, and a biological layer. It takes time to establish but can purify large quantities.
  5. Tincture of Iodine – 5 drops per quart of clear water, 10 if cloudy. Wait 30 minutes. Tastes like a hospital, but kills nearly everything.
  6. Bleach Disinfection – Unscented household bleach (6%). 2 drops per quart. Wait 30 minutes. DO NOT overdo it.
  7. Lifestraw – Lightweight, reliable. Good for bug-out bags or quick filtering on the go. Doesn’t remove chemicals, though.
  8. Sawyer Mini – Better filtration than the Lifestraw and more versatile. You can rig it to bottles, bags, or hydration packs.
  9. Boil + Filter Combo – Boil to kill, filter to clean. Redundancy saves lives.
  10. Gravity Filtration System – Hang a dirty bag above a clean one, use a hose and inline filter. Passive purification while you prep firewood.
  11. Clay Pot Filter – Porous clay can filter bacteria when properly made and treated with colloidal silver. Ancient tech, still solid.
  12. UV Light Sterilizers – SteriPen is one example. It kills DNA-based organisms fast. Requires batteries though, so plan accordingly.
  13. Wild Plant Filters – Banana peels, moringa seeds, even cactus mucilage can absorb certain toxins. Don’t rely solely on them, but they can be useful.
  14. Improvised Coffee Filter Pre-Cleaning – Run cloudy water through a T-shirt, bandana, or coffee filter before real treatment. Protects your main system.
  15. Snow Melting Protocol – Don’t eat snow. Melt it. Boil it. It’s distilled but can contain airborne contaminants. Add minerals back in for health.

You can memorize this list, or you can write it on the back of your hand with a Sharpie. Just don’t ignore it. Because one day, that “pure Vermont” mountain stream might be crawling with giardia, cryptosporidium, or chemical runoff from the neighbor’s cow pasture.

💀 3 DIY Survival Water Hacks

When gear fails and supplies run dry, you need ingenuity:

  1. Tree Transpiration Bag – Tie a clear plastic bag around leafy branches. Sunlight will cause the plant to release moisture, which condenses in the bag. Great for summer, terrible for winter.
  2. Tarp Rain Collector – Stretch a tarp between trees in a V shape, with a container at the bottom. Rainwater is one of the cleanest sources—just be sure to sterilize if it’s been sitting.
  3. Rock Condensation Trap – Dig a hole, put a container in the center, cover with plastic, seal edges with dirt, and place a rock in the center. Water from soil and vegetation condenses and drips into the cup.

Why You Shouldn’t Trust “Safe” Water Claims

“But the town says my water is safe!” Oh, you mean the same people who say fluoride is fine, PFAS are “below actionable limits,” and lead is “only a problem for infants”? Wake up.

“Safe” is a legal term, not a survival one. The EPA allows a certain level of poison in your water and still calls it “safe.” You know what’s safe to a survivalist? ZERO. Zero coliforms. Zero heavy metals. Zero risk.

The Bottom Line

You want real safety? Then take matters into your own calloused hands. Get the gear. Learn the skills. Don’t be the fool standing in a FEMA line begging for bottled water when the storm wipes out your town’s treatment plant. Don’t assume because you live in a “green” state that your water is pure.

Purity is earned. Clean water is prepared. Safety is your responsibility.

Stock up. Practice. Stay angry. Stay alive.

Surviving Vermont’s Hiking Trails: Popular Routes That Will Test Your Limits

Let me get something straight right out of the gate: hiking in Vermont is not just some casual stroll through pretty woods while sipping a matcha latte. This isn’t an Instagrammable walk in the park. This is rugged, wild, unpredictable terrain. And if you think you’re just going to lace up a pair of brand-new boots and “find yourself” in the Green Mountains without bleeding, sweating, or seriously questioning your life choices—then you’re the one who needs to be found.

Now don’t get me wrong—I love Vermont. I live for these trails. But I also believe in preparation, awareness, and respect for nature. That’s why I don’t go anywhere without a basic survival kit (knife, water filter, firestarter, trauma kit), and neither should you. Because the truth is, Vermont’s wilderness doesn’t care about your GPS signal. It doesn’t care about your ultralight pack. Out here, the only thing that matters is whether you can handle what the trail throws at you.

So, if you’re ready to push yourself, test your limits, and maybe even earn some blisters that you’ll brag about later, then buckle up. Here are the Top 20 Hiking Trails in Vermont that will challenge your grit, build your resilience, and if you’re not careful—leave you eating granola with a raccoon for company.


1. The Long Trail (Full Route)

Difficulty: Expert
Length: 272 miles
The backbone of Vermont hiking. Oldest long-distance trail in the U.S., and it hurts. If you want to know what it feels like to conquer mountains, sleep with wet socks, and learn the true meaning of solitude, this is it.

2. Camel’s Hump via Monroe Trail

Difficulty: Moderate to Hard
Length: 6.8 miles round trip
My personal favorite summit in the state. Exposed alpine ridges, steep inclines, and jaw-dropping views. Bring layers and watch for sudden weather changes—it can turn fast.

3. Mount Mansfield via Sunset Ridge Trail

Difficulty: Hard
Length: 6.6 miles round trip
The tallest mountain in Vermont and one of the most varied trails. Don’t underestimate this one—it gets technical near the top. If it’s wet, the rocks become death traps.

4. Jay Peak via Long Trail South

Difficulty: Hard
Length: 3.6 miles round trip
Steep, rocky, and brutally beautiful. Jay Peak’s summit gives a 360-degree view that’ll make you feel small in the best way. Go light but go prepared.

5. Sterling Pond Trail

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 2.6 miles round trip
Short but don’t be fooled—it’s a rocky climb that’ll wake your legs up. The pond is a peaceful payoff, but you’ll earn it.

6. Mount Abraham via Battell Trail

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 5.4 miles round trip
One of Vermont’s iconic 4,000-footers. The summit offers alpine tundra (yes, real tundra in Vermont!)—a rare biome you should respect. Stay on trail.

7. Burrows Trail to Camel’s Hump

Difficulty: Hard
Length: 4.8 miles round trip
Steep climb to the same summit, but faster. More exposed and direct. Great if you’re short on time but not on stamina.

8. Stowe Pinnacle Trail

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 3.7 miles round trip
Crowded in summer, but a good test of speed and endurance if you hit it at dawn. The wind at the top is no joke—secure your gear.

9. Mount Hunger via Waterbury Trail

Difficulty: Hard
Length: 4 miles round trip
Don’t let the name fool you—you’ll burn more calories than you can carry. Views of the Worcester Range are killer. So are the final scrambles.

10. Hellbrook Trail to Mount Mansfield

Difficulty: Expert
Length: 4.4 miles round trip
This one is not for the faint of heart. Almost vertical in places, wet, slick, and dangerous. My kind of fun. If you take this route, bring grippy footwear and nerves of steel.

11. Mount Pisgah North Trail

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 4.1 miles round trip
Lake Willoughby far below, cliffs beside you, and falcons above. Beautiful and haunting. Watch your footing near the overlook—it’s a long way down.

12. Lye Brook Falls Trail

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 4.6 miles round trip
Good training hike. Waterfall reward at the end is cold and strong. Not technical, but muddy and root-covered. Good for pack weight testing.

13. Mount Ascutney via Weathersfield Trail

Difficulty: Moderate to Hard
Length: 5.7 miles round trip
Steady climb with old growth forest and a fire tower at the top. Great to simulate longer-distance climbs with a reward. Bugs here are ruthless—bring spray.

14. Killington Peak via Bucklin Trail

Difficulty: Hard
Length: 7.2 miles round trip
A beast in winter, still tough in summer. The final stretch is steep and brutal. Summit often clouded, but when it clears—unreal.

15. Bald Mountain Trail (Westmore)

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 4 miles round trip
Fire tower at the top gives panoramic views. Excellent spot to test compass skills and trail navigation. Not very crowded, and that’s how I like it.

16. Haystack Mountain Trail

Difficulty: Easy to Moderate
Length: 5 miles round trip
Don’t underestimate it. Quiet, steady climb with a killer summit view. Excellent for cold-weather gear testing or kids learning to hike.

17. White Rocks Ice Beds Trail

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 3.2 miles round trip
Want to see ice in summer? You got it. Cold air funnels out of rock crevices like nature’s AC. Good trail for cooling off and geology nerds.

18. Equinox Preserve Trail System

Difficulty: Variable
Length: Up to 6 miles round trip
Multiple trails that crisscross around Mount Equinox. Choose your pain level. Hidden springs and old stonework make this place a time capsule.

19. Glastenbury Mountain via Long Trail

Difficulty: Hard
Length: 22.4 miles out and back
Remote and a little eerie. Famous for being part of the “Bennington Triangle.” Great for multi-day treks or testing emergency shelter skills. Bring bear bagging gear.

20. Stratton Mountain via Long Trail/Appalachian Trail

Difficulty: Moderate
Length: 7.6 miles round trip
Historic as the birthplace of both the Long Trail and Appalachian Trail. The fire tower here is worth the climb. Good test hike with significant historical weight.


Final Thoughts From a Trail-Hardened Survivalist

Vermont isn’t Alaska, but don’t let that fool you into underestimating it. Between the dense woods, fast-changing weather, and deceptive elevation gains, you can find yourself in trouble quick if you’re not squared away. Here’s what I always pack, no matter the trail length:

  • Water filter (Sawyer Squeeze or similar)
  • Knife or multitool
  • Headlamp (yes, even on day hikes)
  • Compass and trail map
  • Layered clothing, wool socks
  • High-protein snacks
  • Duct tape (saves lives, literally)
  • Basic first aid
  • Bear spray (northern Vermont’s got traffic)

Bottom line: respect the trail and it will teach you things no classroom ever could. Get out there, push yourself, bleed a little, get rained on, curse the incline—and then feel that fire in your chest when you make it to the summit. You’re not just hiking; you’re becoming someone the wilderness doesn’t scare.

See you out there.