Grand Isle, Vermont

May 1, 2026

Last September, Nadir and Irfan came up with a desire to go away to a cottage retreat, and we made it happen this spring. I went to Lake Champlain and Grand Isle region two years ago on a boating trip. So going back was an easy decision. Lets talk a little about the Grand Isle and the region.

Set in Lake Champlain, this stretch of land carries a history that most people drive past without thinking about. Long before any of us showed up with coolers and paddleboards, Native American tribes used this lake as a lifeline, traveling, trading, and living along its shores.

What most people don’t realize is that Lake Champlain wasn’t always the freshwater lake it is today. After the last Ice Age, massive glaciers carved out the basin, and for a period of time, this region was actually connected to the Atlantic Ocean. It formed what geologists call the Champlain Sea, a saltwater inlet that stretched deep into the continent. Marine fossils, including whale remains, have been found in this area. Eventually, as the land rebounded and sea levels shifted, the connection to the ocean closed off, and the lake transformed into the freshwater body we see now.

Later came the French explorers, most notably Samuel de Champlain, followed by British and early American settlers. The lake became strategically important during both the French and Indian War and the Revolutionary War. Control of these waters meant control of movement between Canada and the interior of the colonies.

Today, all of that history feels distant. The lake is calm, almost indifferent to what it once was. I often wonder when I look at these majestic natural wonders. They stood there over millennia witnessing so many people and their stories. The depth of the lake is rich with stories but it stands silent keeping the secrets locked in its massive depth.

A short drive away, Burlington, Vermont developed into a small but vibrant hub along the shoreline. Once a lumber and trading port, it has evolved into a laid-back college town with just enough energy. Church Street brings life, the waterfront keeps it grounded, and the whole place somehow avoids feeling rushed.

That’s the setting.

But like most trips, the place wasn’t really the point.

The Real Reason We Went was different. As Zubair bhai explained, we live our lives to feed the whims of the left side of the brain. We all live structured lives. Medicine, schedules, patients, responsibilities. Everything is efficient, optimized, and, if we’re honest, a little draining. But the right side of the brain needs something different. It needs a reset

The right side of the brain tells us that we need nature. We need unstructured time. and more than anything, we need the kind of friendship where nothing is forced. No small talk, no performance. Just conversation, laughter, and occasionally pointless debate.

That’s what this was. This was what the right side of frontal cortex was craving all along.

The Crew (Which Is Really the Whole Story)

Trips like this depend entirely on who you go with.

Nadir Khan ran things the way he always does. Organized, deliberate, always thinking ahead. The kind of presence that quietly keeps everything on track. Electrician by trait, and having a sense of royalty about him, as if he is still a maharajah of a princely state in India, he had everything tucked up nicely in his truck, which is almost as majestic as he is.

Irfan Chughtai brought Lahori humor, which doesn’t need effort. Quick, slightly sarcastic, always landing at the right moment. The kind of humor that turns ordinary moments into something memorable. A nephrologist, family man, musician, and just downright awesome.

Nauman Chaudhry showed up with full Karachi sensibility. Not just in personality, but in what he brought with him. Rusk, cake rusk, paan. Small things, but they shift the entire feel of a trip. Suddenly you’re not just somewhere new, you’re carrying pieces of home with you.

Zubair Kareem was the walking encyclopedia. Conversations could start anywhere and somehow expand into history, politics, or something completely unexpected.

And then there was me, described as energy bunny by some, I was the organizer in chief of this trip. Something about these trips, it just turns me on to a whole different side of me. Maybe my right side of the brain needs much more stimulation. By the way that goes with my description as the author of this blog, someone who looks for God in the great outdoors.

We met at esselon café, tucked in Hadley MA, serving up great coffee and breakfast sandwiches. This was our rendezvous point. We drove north from here stopping at Vermont rest area which is right at Massachusetts-Vermont border. Here we had chai, delicious chicken sandwiched and French toast made by Anne. These were so delicious and reminded me of my railway journeys in Pakistan as I would be packed similar snacks by my mom.

We reached our cabin in Grand Isle in quick time. Right after settling in, we went to a local Vermont farm.No curated experience, no attempt to impress. Just baby goats running around, rabbits tucked away, chickens moving without urgency. There was fresh goat milk for sale. That was it. And somehow, that was enough. Something about that place immediately slowed everything down. No one was checking their phone. No one was talking about work. You just stood there, watched, laughed a little, and let your brain reset.

It was the perfect first move. The first night was a barbecue. Kababs, chicken, a fire, and conversation that didn’t need structure. Zubair bhai did the grilling as we set up food on the table and then settle down for more gup shup and laughter.

The next morning, fishing, coffee and of course a lesson on art of coffee brewing by Zubair Bhai. Nadir approached fishing like a skill to be mastered. Irfan and Zubair Bhai learnt with childlike enthusiasm, and I smoked a cigar gazing into the lake and throwing a line just to be a part of the group. No fish were caught, which made it better. The point was bonding.

We made our way to Hero’s Welcome Inn in North Hero. Simple place, good food, nothing trying too hard. It fits the environment.

There was kayaking in cold weather, which probably shouldn’t have happened but did. I paddle boarded despite the warning that a fall in the cold water could trigger hypothermia. The sun came out and warmed the heart and touched our soul. A neighbor German Shepard decided to swim at the same time. Nadir was brave enough to befriend him. Apparently, dogs do not get hypothermia in this bitterly cold water. They still look menacing.

By midday we had learnt that Grand Isle doesn’t entertain you. It gives you space.

In Burlington, Vermont, things pick up slightly.

We started with the bike trail. Rain cut it short, but it didn’t matter. Plans changed, no one cared. A small Nepali shop ended up being one of the highlights. Pakoras that instantly brought back something familiar. Not refined, just real. They brought memoried of fried food in the monsoon season in Pakistan.

Church Street had its usual rhythm. Cobblestones, bookstores, small shops, people moving without urgency. We walked without a plan, which is always when a place feels the most genuine. We checked out a bookstore, a Turkish spice shop and an outdoor shop with typical Vermont flair. By the waterfront, things slowed again. Dinner was at Shanty by the water where a cute looking waitress served up great sea food. The clam chowder wamred us all up and the desert, Nauman’s classic: Key lime pie hit a home run.

We drove back for more chai gupshup and even a game of cards. As I tucked in for the night I realized that You don’t come to Grand Isle for excitement. You come to remember what it feels like not be busy, to sit with people who know you well enough that silence isn’t awkward and laughter doesn’t need a reason. To let your mind wander a little. To notice things again. The history is there. The scenery is there. But what stays with you is simpler. Good friends. Honest laughter. And just enough distance from real life to see it clearly when you return.

I woke up early and was at the water at 5 am to catch the sun rise. Some of the best sights in my life is the sun breaking through the darkness, the golden hue that spreads through the sky and then the water. Its as if God has opened a vortex to heaven.

Right after we packed up and left for a last-minute bagel and coffee run in South Hero. Here we said our farewells. Zubair and I made one last pit stop to collect bees from a Vermont farm for his home. Interestingly he is also a honeybee farmer. Embracing him, I held him close enough to appreciate the brotherly bond as we parted knowing that we will be back together for another adventure very soon.

Mount Adams and Madison

by Talal Khan

Date: September 5th, 2025

Our newest adventure planned months ago was to take place in Gorham, New Hampshire. Attending this trip were 8 crazy members of the group, I will give a brief recap of who they are

Zubair Kareem, one of the wisest men you will ever meet, Neurologist, Philosopher, writer
The Benjamin Brothers, Shahid, Hamid and Zahid Habib. Serial Entrepreneur, Go Getters, Lahoris, Life of the party
Fahim Kazi, known as a Cycling God, Self Described news junkie, Sarcastic humor, Hyderabad Don
Atif Gul, Athlete, Proud Pathan, Fahim’s fellow cycling partner
Masih Farooqui: Golfer, Oncologist, Silent philanthropy champion, Steady Hiker
Mohammad Attique, Self made Business owner, Easy going, Owner of Monster truck, Outdoor enthusiast
Talal Khan, Group lead, self-described white man from Alabama in a brown man’s body, Mountain lover, leader of brown MAGA movement

All of us decided to meet at Glen House. I arrived at Zubair Bhais home in early afternoon where Attique, myself and Zubair Bhai rode in his monster truck. Attiq should charge us for the chauffeur driven experience to Gorham in his comfortable truck. The ride is four hours and beautiful as the road transcends and snakes through beautiful mountains and hills in Vermont and New Hampshire. We stopped for tea, coffee and desert at Cappadocia café in white river junction. This is an amazing café with a Turkish vibe, flat breads, savoring pastries and ma favorite, Turkish tea.

Cappadochia Cafe Treats

We were the first to reach Glen House, our home for the night and I checked everyone in to make it easy for the group. Glen House is strategically located from several trailheads and is a cozy lodge perched at the base of Mount Washington, offering panoramic views of the Presidential Range and a perfect mix of comfort and adventure. We had an amazing dinner at Notch Grille and some late-night banter by the fireplace before retiring to our comfortable beds.

Next morning we got up bright and early and after taking some customary pictures, we decided to drive to the trailhead where we all gathered with full gear and heavyset backpacks. Our goal was to summit Mount Adams and Mount Madison, two giants of the Presidential Range — a rugged spine of peaks named after U.S. presidents and other historic figures. This alpine corridor includes the tallest mountains in New England and is notorious for its unpredictable weather, steep terrain, and jaw-dropping views. These trails are not for the faint of heart, but they reward hikers with a sense of accomplishment that few other places can offer.

Mr Cool with Zubair Bhai

Our route started at short line trail and took us deep into the wilds of the King Ravine, a glacial cirque known for its sheer rock walls, mossy boulder fields, and an almost otherworldly silence. Within this ravine lies a true gem of White Mountains hiking — the Chemin des Dames, a narrow, exposed scramble up a steep rock ridge on the ravine’s headwall. French for “Ladies’ Path,” the name Chemin des Dames is thought to be a tongue-in-cheek reference to the historic World War I battlefield in France, known for its brutal fighting and treacherous terrain. While the trail has no direct connection to the war, the name likely reflects the same stark, rugged character and perhaps a bit of dark hiker humor.

The trail itself is short but intense: hands-and-feet climbing, narrow ledges, and sweeping drop-offs that will test your nerves as much as your legs. It’s not an official AMC-maintained trail, but it’s well-worn and beloved by those who seek adventure. For us, it was one of the most thrilling parts of the hike,exposed, exciting, and unforgettable. One of our members got sick while on this trail with some exhaustion and cramps. He was brave enough to continue and reach the Madison hut despite getting cramps.

Survived Chemin Des Dames

From the top of Chemin des Dames, we connected with the Airline Trail to reach the node in the trail where you can see both Mount Adams (5,799 ft), and Mount Madison (5,367 ft). Also visible between the two peaks lies the historic Madison Spring Hut, perched high in the clouds at around 4,800 feet. First built in 1888, it’s the oldest of the Appalachian Mountain Club’s backcountry huts. Though rebuilt several times due to fire and the harsh alpine environment, it remains a vital stop for hikers tackling the Presidential Traverse, offering bunk beds, warm meals, and a rustic sense of community in the mountains

Most of us decided to summit Mount Adams. The heavy backpacks and the climb was physically taxing on all of us and it took a lot of willpower and determination to continue towards the summit rather than the warm comfort of the hut.

Field Marshall Shahid Habib

Shahid was the fearless leader of the group leading the hike and was given the rank of Field Marshall by the group, a playful jab at the current COAS of Pakistan. Shahid did remind us that he was not a Hafiz e Quran and does not technically qualify for the rank.

Reaching the summit was a surreal experience, a sense of triumph rushes through your body elevating your mood and giving you the contentment, only a serial hiker can feel. After taking some pictures we descended down to the hut. We made it in good time despite Fahim’s cautious approach on descents and were just in time for dinner.

One of the most impressive parts of the experience was seeing the work of the Madison Spring Hut crew, known affectionately as the “croo.” These are seasonal volunteers and staff from the Appalachian Mountain Club who live and work at the hut during the hiking season. Their responsibilities go far beyond just cooking meals and welcoming guests. Several times a week, they hike up and down the mountain with massive “packboards” strapped to their backs, hauling supplies ranging from food and fuel to linens and waste, often carrying 40 to 80 pounds or more on rugged, rocky trails. It’s a physically grueling job, but one done with genuine enthusiasm and deep respect for the mountain environment. Their energy, friendliness, and hard work add a unique and human touch to the high alpine experience, reminding us that even in remote and rugged places, hospitality and community are very much alive. One of our “croo” members was 105 pounds, just completed the Appalachian trail in early August before volunteering to host at the summit.

We were served a 5 course warm meal comprising of pea soup, warm bread, kale salad, sweet corn, southern chicken and some dessert. But dinner isn’t just dinner, it’s a show. Before each course, the croo gathers everyone for announcements, trail updates, and a hilarious round of puns, campy skits, or inside-joke-laced humor that’s become a signature part of the AMC hut experience. We shared the table with a sibling family from New Jersey. Tired and weary, we shared laughter and the warm meal. Right after some of us joined the sunset walk with educational lecture on Alpine plants and the rest went to bed in hostel style bunk beds. I stayed up and read some of the books in the library before calling it a night, dreaming about seeing the sunrise next morning at Mount Madison.

The night was surprisingly peaceful. I woke up as usual around 5 am and motivated Zubair Bhai and Atiq to join in my quest to do the peak of Mount Madison. Our goal was to do it in an hour and be back for breakfast. We left without our backpacks and water and made our way up running up almost to reach the summit.

Mount Madison Summit

Mount Madison Sunrise

It was cloudy with 360 degrees view of the valley. It was amazing to see clouds woven by Allah as cotton floating around announcing His magnificence as the Creator. Exercising some God consciousness, I marveled at the views. The wind was gushing so hard that it felt like it would take me as a rag doll flying down from the summit. Spending some time, we descended quickly and made it in time for scrambled eggs, coffee and a hearty breakfast. We took some pictures, gathered our things and started going down on valley way trail towards the parking.

On our way down we saw the “croo” taking down the load as if they had no care in the world, gliding over the rocks where some of us felt like every step, would lead to a fall. We also met a seven year old girl that had done the 48 four thousand footers in New Hampshire. Maybe she will be a part of the croo one day.

As we neared the end, we came upon a small, icy-cold alpine pond, crystal-clear and fed by mountain springs. After miles of hiking under the sun, dipping our hands (and some brave feet) into the fresh water felt like nature’s version of a cold plunge. It was the perfect final touch to a day full of high peaks, exposed ridges, and the kind of camaraderie only mountain trails can create.

Rolling up to the parking lot, after making lifelong memories, we took off our hiking shoes, as I personally wore my ofos sleepers which are a God send for tired feed. We drove down to Cappadocia café where we had some flat bread and Turkish rea before heading home. As I got into my car, I felt blessed to have been able to do this with this group of guys, especially with my spiritual guide and life coach, my elder brother, Zubair Kareem.

Mount Chocorua

Rocky home of a water serpent

Sept 27,2024

Mount Chocorua is the easternmost peak of the Sandwich Range and at the southern end of the White Mountains. Its distinct, rocky summit is the result of a series of forest fires between the early 19th and 20th centuries. From its bare peak, hikers have excellent views of the surrounding lakes, mountains, and forests. However, some say that the name comes from a local legend about a Native American chief named Chocorua. The legend says that the chief was pursued by white settlers after his son died from being poisoned by a white settler. The chief was then shot by a white settler while standing on a crag of the mountain.

This trip was special. We left in Atiq’s Truck which towers over every car on the road.

The rendezvous point was Zubair Bhai’s home which is a resort in itself. We left around 2 pm and made a stop at Esselon cafe in Hadley for coffee. Asma Baji had made us some paratha and omelet rolls for us with tasted great with a touch of nostalgia. The conversations were deep and intellectual as Zubair Bhai, an intellectual power house was quizzed on various topics. We made our way quickly to the town of Albany, New Hampshire. Reaching there on time, we checked in our three bedroom apartment. There was nobody to check us in and the door in the third floor was open. We walked in and settled down before leaving for dinner. Conway is the neighboring town which is well developed and there was a REI and LL Bean next to our diner called, Black Cap Grille. I made the mistake of going for a Maine lobster roll which is never a good idea outside of Maine.

After dinner, we went to Walmart for some water and Powerade. Diluting it with water in our bag’s bladder we were set up for next day. The apartment was comfortable except only had a single bathroom, a first world problem per my wife.

After some gup shup we all passed out and woke up to some egg and cheese sandwiches that i picked up from Shelborne falls. We made some tea for the way and went down for a photo session by the river. Toby and Terry were our hosts and were kind enough to take our pictures.

We reached the trail head early at 7:30 am and saw only a single care in the parking lot. We decided to take the piper trail up the mountain.

The trail quickly makes way to an incline and its taking a tread climber all the way to the top. We made our way up quickly and broke the tree line for some 360 degree views of the the valley.

There was not much traffic. As we approached the top, we appreciated the sunny day as it had been raining the day before and most of the rocks had dried up. The last 0.6 miles to the top is tough and a scramble over naked rocks that get really slippery in the rain. As we made our way up the wind picked up and it was so strong that it felt like it will blow us off. We made our way to the top and found an area to take shelter and have our sandwiches and chai. Nothing beats the exquisite taste of sandwich and tea on the top. Another customary photo session on the top and we made our down.

We went down the west side trail. The descent was challenging and took a toll on our joints especially the knees.

We made our way to the Liberty Cabin. The cabin was built in the eighteen hundreds and its tied down on both sides by steel. Yet it was burnt down by fire and eventually restored. It now serves as a place for campers to spend the night. I was also able to leave a message in the hiker’s book for my dad as it was his birthday.

Eventually we took Weetamoo trail which goes with Hammond trail for a mile before taking a curve to join the the piper trail. Overall I was happy with the trail blazes and felt that the trail was well marked.

We did the trail in about seven hours with one hour of rest. Reaching back to the parking lot, we thanked Allah and jumped in for the ride ahead. We made our way back, tired but excited for being able to complete the hike. Atiq was the designated driver and drove us back in quick time, making one gas station stop for coffee and boiled eggs.

Reaching back home, I could not wait to get back and chronicle my new adventure.