By Hallie Grossman
At Paradis Sport, we believe in empowering women to push their limits—and no one embodies that spirit more than our Paradis Pro, Halle Grossman. As a public school teacher, outdoor adventurer, and performance underwear tester extraordinaire, Halle took on Vermont’s Long Trail with determination, grit, and a pair of Paradis underwear she could count on. This is her story.
“You’ll never make it. You ought to find a place to camp on the south side of Mt. Ira,” a man in slick hiking gear informed us, arms crossed and doubt heavy in his tone.
“We have a plan, and we know we can do it,” we told him confidently.
It was only 3:00 PM. Burnt Rock Mountain, Mt. Ira Allen, and Mt. Ethan Allen didn’t look too intimidating on the map. But this stranger wasn’t buying it.
“If you can do Burnt, that will be a big push,” he insisted. “There’s a place you can pitch a tent a mile or so north. That’s as far as you can possibly go.”
Alayne, my hiking partner, and I were stunned. We were 170 miles into the 272-mile Long Trail, and this was the first person who had the audacity to say we couldn’t do it. Up until that moment—and every step after—the trail had been full of encouragement, grit, and mutual respect. But that moment fueled our fire. We hiked the rest of the day with purpose—and a bit of a chip on our shoulders.
By nightfall, we reached Montclair Glen Shelter on Camel’s Hump—exactly where we’d planned to be. Burnt, Ira, Ethan—all behind us. At camp, we met two teenage girls on a camp reunion and a woman who went by the trail name “Super Mom.” They offered Nutella, marshmallows, and something the earlier hiker didn’t: support.
Alayne and I are public school teachers in northern Vermont. This trek started as a spark during a spring hike in the White Mountains and quickly turned into a plan: 14 days, 272 miles, averaging 18 miles a day, with no rest days—despite advice to the contrary from our very experienced partners and family.
Spoiler: we took a rest afternoon. And we’re proud of it.
Starting at the southern terminus in Williamstown, MA, we packed light(ish): trail runners instead of boots, 55-liter packs instead of the usual 60-70L, dehydrated meals, two sets of clothes, and—most importantly—our Paradis underwear. Our first resupply came at mile 60, where we sent our dogs home with my mom, along with extra items like a cotton t-shirt (a luxury we didn’t need). From there, it was just us, our gear, and the trail.
Each day followed a rhythm: early wake-ups, trail miles powered by caffeinated GU, mid-afternoon snacks, and foot care that became ritual. Blisters and aching feet were constant companions. I often joked that my feet were “levitating” at night, tingling for hours after a long day’s hike.
We had highs—like seeing Alayne’s boyfriend Ira show up with brownies and lemonade—and lows, like Alayne’s ankle giving out for the third time as we descended a fog-shrouded Camel’s Hump. But just as things looked bleak, friends, family, and pups arrived like magic. A true trail family reunion.
That day ended in a Route 2 parking lot with ice cream, hugs, and the decision to take a break. A hot shower, clean sheets, new running shoes, and we were ready to go. The next morning at 6:00 AM, we begged my mom to take us back exactly to where we left the trail—and she did.
Five more days. Ninety more miles. A thunderstorm, a knee brace named DonJoy, visits from friends, more blisters—and then, at last, the Canadian border.
We finished in 15 days, slightly over our goal, but proud. Exhausted, humbled, but proud. Through rain, mud, and moments of self-doubt, we kept moving. And at the end of each day, slipping on my Paradis underwear felt like a small act of luxury. Despite the elements, they stayed fresh, breathable, and ready for the next day’s challenge. Once, even after a torrential downpour on Killington, I clipped them to my pack to dry—and by the time we reached camp, they were ready for another round.
This wasn’t just a hike. It was a reminder of what we’re capable of with the right mindset, a strong body (even one with a few surgical scars), and the support of a loving community. The Long Trail gave us unforgettable memories, a deeper appreciation for our Vermont home, and countless laughs (mostly about our feet).
And while there are many takeaways, one thing is certain: comfort matters out there. Whether it’s in your stride, your gear, or your underwear.
Written by Halle Grossman, Paradis Pro and proud wearer of the world’s most comfortable performance undies.
Want to hike like Halle? Shop Paradis Sport’s high-performance women’s underwear here.
