If you are thinking about tackling the camel's hump challenge, you should probably start by making sure your knees are in good working order and your lungs are ready for some thin air. This isn't your typical Sunday stroll through a city park; it's a rugged, rocky, and rewarding trek up one of Vermont's most iconic peaks. Standing at 4,083 feet, Camel's Hump is the third-highest mountain in the state, but it's arguably the most famous because of its unmistakable silhouette. From almost anywhere in the Champlain Valley, you can see that double-humped profile poking into the clouds, looking exactly like a camel taking a nap in the middle of the Green Mountains.
The real draw of the camel's hump challenge isn't just the elevation, though. It's the fact that the mountain remains undeveloped. Unlike its neighbors, Mount Mansfield or Killington, there are no ski lifts, no gift shops, and no paved roads leading to the summit. It's just you, the trees, a lot of granite, and a community of hikers who all decided that spending their Saturday morning sweating through their shirts was a great idea.
Why We Call It a Challenge
Calling this hike a "challenge" isn't just marketing fluff. Whether you take the Burrows Trail from the Huntington side or the Monroe Trail from Duxbury, you're looking at a significant vertical gain in a relatively short distance. Most people end up climbing about 2,400 feet over the course of a few miles. To put that in perspective, imagine climbing the stairs of a skyscraper for two hours straight, except the stairs are made of slippery roots and jagged rocks.
The terrain is what really gets people. It starts off fairly managed, with wide paths and gentle slopes, but the higher you go, the more the mountain fights back. The last half-mile of the camel's hump challenge is where the real work happens. You'll find yourself scrambling over boulders and using your hands as much as your feet. It's a total-body workout that leaves you feeling every single muscle by the time you reach the treeline.
Choosing Your Path Up the Hump
There are two main ways to approach the camel's hump challenge, and choosing the right one depends on how much time you have and how much you want to punish your quads.
The Burrows Trail is the "fast" way. It's shorter—about 4.2 miles round trip—but it's a relentless incline. There aren't many flat spots to catch your breath. You basically just point your nose uphill and keep going until you hit the top. It's the most popular route, so if you go on a holiday weekend, expect to share the trail with plenty of four-legged friends and college students who make the climb look way too easy.
On the other hand, the Monroe Trail is a bit longer, clocking in at around 6.8 miles for the loop. It's a slightly more gradual ascent, though "gradual" is a very generous word in the context of Vermont hiking. The Monroe Trail offers some beautiful views along the way and passes through different forest zones, from hardwood to the stunted balsam firs near the top. If you have the extra hour or two, this route feels a bit more like an adventure and less like a treadmill workout.
Surviving the Alpine Tundra
One of the coolest things about the camel's hump challenge is the summit itself. Because the peak is so high and exposed, it hosts a rare "alpine tundra" ecosystem. This is a fancy way of saying that the plants up there are left over from the last ice age. They are incredibly hardy when it comes to wind and cold, but they are extremely fragile when it comes to hiking boots.
There are usually summit stewards stationed at the top during the busy season. These folks are volunteers who spend their day reminding people to stay on the rocks and off the grass. It's a small price to pay for such a spectacular view. When you're standing on that bare rock summit, you get a 360-degree view that is honestly hard to beat. To the west, you've got Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks in New York. To the east, the White Mountains of New Hampshire loom on the horizon. It's one of those moments where you forget how much your legs hurt.
What to Pack for the Trip
You wouldn't believe the things I've seen people wearing halfway up the camel's hump challenge. I once saw a guy trying to summit in brand-new white loafers. Needless to say, they weren't white for long. If you want to actually enjoy yourself, you need to be prepared.
First off, wear actual hiking boots or trail runners with decent grip. The rocks near the top can be incredibly slick, even if it hasn't rained recently. Second, bring more water than you think you need. Dehydration is the quickest way to turn a fun hike into a miserable slog.
Layers are also your best friend. It might be a humid 80 degrees at the trailhead, but once you hit the summit and the wind starts whipping across the ridge, the temperature can drop twenty degrees in an instant. I always toss a light windbreaker or a flannel in my pack, even in July. And don't forget the snacks. Reaching the summit of the camel's hump challenge is the perfect excuse to eat a giant sandwich or a bag of trail mix without an ounce of guilt.
The Mental Game of the Descent
Most people focus on the way up, but for me, the hardest part of the camel's hump challenge is actually the way down. Gravity is a double-edged sword. Sure, you aren't huffing and puffing as much, but your knees and ankles are taking a literal beating with every step.
The descent requires a lot of focus. One wrong step on a wet root can result in a twisted ankle or a very ungraceful slide into the mud. I've found that taking it slow and using trekking poles makes a world of difference. Some people think poles are just for older hikers, but honestly, after four miles of vertical climbing, anyone's joints will appreciate the extra support.
Final Thoughts on the Experience
Completing the camel's hump challenge is a bit of a rite of passage for anyone living in or visiting Northern Vermont. It's a tough day out, but there's something about that specific peak that keeps people coming back year after year. Maybe it's the lack of commercialization, or maybe it's just the sheer beauty of the Green Mountain National Forest.
Whatever the reason, the feeling of accomplishment you get when you look back up at that hump from the parking lot is worth every drop of sweat. You'll be sore the next day, and you'll probably swear you're never doing it again—at least until next autumn when the leaves start to change color and the mountain starts calling your name again. Just remember to pack your boots, respect the alpine plants, and maybe leave the white loafers at home.