Damn! That was a ton of fun!! Dad, Bianca, and I had just completed the Morrisville to Johnson section of Vermont's Lamoille Valley Rail Trail. The ride had been incredibly beautiful, traveling through scenic farms and along the picturesque Lamoille river. We were at Lost Nation brewery enjoying a post ride libation. We had had a lot of fun during our Fall 2022 Vermont trip and this ride was definitely among the highlights. My mind wandered a bit, and an idea germinated at that point. I knew that the entire trail crossed most of the width of Vermont. "Have you ever thought about riding it all at once, over a few days, I asked"?
Fast forward a couple of years and I had arrived in Vermont from Phoenix. A couple of days later we, along with our bikes and gear, had been given a ride to the Western trailhead in Swanton. Thanks Nancy! A day earlier we had left a car at the end of the trail in Saint Johnsbury, VT, the Eastern terminus of the trail.
I was filled with apprehension and excitement. I hadn't ridden but about 20 miles in the last year. With some big hikes and backpacking trips planned, cycling had taken a back seat. In late June, as I was beginning to hop back on the bike, I fell off my paddle board while paddling on the Salt River. I had badly sprained my left wrist and broken a finger. I had had surgery, a cast, and the subsequent recovery that I had been dealing with. The cast had come off just a few days before the start of the trip. Basically I was dealing with some pain, and extremely limited to no ability to use my #4, and 5 fingers on my left hand. Not able to do a whole lot, my fitness levels inevitably ebbed, and a few pounds crawled on board.
That's enough of the Woe is me! I could tell that Dad was a bit dubious about my prospects of being able to do the ride, but I assured him that nothing could keep me from it. I'd ride with one hand if I had to. Thankfully, the terrain and parcours were super easy! We would not be riding tons of miles each day.
I was using one of Dad's old Mountain bikes for the ride. It had some brand new gravel type tires on it and a suspension fork, as well as a flat bar. We thought that this setup would be most comfortable for my left hand and wrist. I slapped some panniers on it and along with a top tube bag and a feedbag I was ready to roll. I had never used panniers before as I typically use bikepacking bags, but the panniers were great for this ride.
For some curious, unknown reason, Dad threw these on his gravel bike for the ride. Ouch! His calves and shins took a beating, as I had warned! Both of us had wanted to abstain from clipless pedals on this trip, as we knew that during our off bike times we'd be doing a lot of walking and didn't want to carry extra shoes.
Ready to roll!
These signs are ubiquitous on the trail. We were fortunate to see almost zero sign of littering on the trail. Most of the folks we encountered seemed to be using the trail respectfully.
Within the first 100 feet of the ride, we crossed the Missisquoi river on this beautiful bridge. The route initially takes you through Swanton, VT, following the Missisquoi pretty closely. We knew that we would be crossing a lot of bridges over rivers, creeks, and brooks for the entire route. Fine by me!
92 miles to go, not counting detours and reroutes. I love the fact that this trail has a mile marker post each mile. You never need to wonder how far you have to go. The previous days had been swelteringly hot for Vermont, with temps in the 90s. We eagerly hoped to avoid that. The forecast seemed somewhat hopeful. The day started off overcast, which cooled things down. We also spent a large part of the day riding in the shade of forests.
Dad riding way out in front, as I fumbled and dug out my phone for numerous photos.
The Lamoille Valley Rail Trail (LVRT) really highlights how many dairy farms that Vermont still has. They were omnipresent. It was really neat to see Dairy farms and other features from a bicycle on a rail trail instead of from a car on the road. Somehow Vermont seemed that much more rural and wild than I already thought it was.
Knowing Dad he was likely contemplating when we were getting our next beer! At this point breakfast was long in the rearview mirror. Neither one of us carried much in the way of snacks. We were counting on resupply opportunities. We had no cellphone signal for most of the ride, but knowing this ahead of time, I had a file that I had created which listed resupply options, at least as far as we knew. The hunger monsters were starting to attack.
We came to Sheldon Junction, which the Missisquoi Valley Rail Trail runs through and intersects with the LVRT. I had thought that we would find a resupply option in the area, but nothing was apparent. With no signal, it was tough to nail down exactly where the options were. As the trail was heavily forested, it was hard to see towns, etc. We probably rode by several options along the way, but if they weren't directly visible from the trail, we would have had no idea. We pressed on.
Mile post 80! Making progress. We rode about 35 miles per day.
Riding right through a dairy farm. The views were as far as the eye could see. The first day of the trip we saw nary another rider. It was quite peaceful and quiet.
In addition to the dairy farms, we rode by and through large stands of maple trees that were part of various sugaring operations. This one was just outside of Fairfield, VT. There must be hundreds of miles of tubing running through the trees that we saw to collect the sap.
This was either the Fairfield River or Black Creek. I'm unsure as to which. After we left the Missisquoi, we followed Black Creek for a large portion of the day. Neither one of us had ever heard of Black Creek. It must be a pretty large tributary of the Missisquoi, given its proximity.
We were cruising along the trail, sometime after noon, when a magical sight was seen by Dad. In a narrow opening in the hedge we were riding through, Dad saw the upper part of a gas station sign. We quickly turned around to investigate. It turned out that we had found an "Irving" gas station. We hoped that they'd be well stocked. They were! Wow, we sure hit the jackpot. They had a cooler full of sandwiches and every other delight that could be found in a well stocked convenience store. There was a shelf loaded with fresh baked goods from a local bakery. Thank you East Fairfield!
The unquestioned star of the show was the beer cooler, however. A huge cooler, filled to the brim with local Vermont beer. The most phenomenal aspect of it was that you weren't required to buy an entire six pack. You could buy single beers of anything. Though, had the purchase of an entire six page been necessary, I'd have found a way to stuff the other four beers somewhere in my panniers!
We walked out of there loaded for bear. We each had sandwiches, a bag of chips, and a couple of the most tasty beers we could ever have asked for. Additionally, we got two huge sandwich cookies with maple cream filling and coconut filling. As we walked out of the gas station, we pondered where we would sit and gorge on our grub. Fortuitously, across Route 36, we saw several picnic tables at what appeared to be some kind of a community center. We walked over and sat down. It began to rain, immediately. Thankfully, it wasn't a torrential downpour and actually felt pretty good given the heat of the day.
Well sated after our lunch feast, we hit the trail. We had less than ten miles to go until we reached our destination for the night, the bucolic hamlet of Jeffersonville, VT. Colloquially known as Jeff. We knew that we had some fun adventures planned for Jeff, so we were eager to get there. Jeffersonville is also the gateway to Smuggler's Notch ski area, an area that I frequented as a youth.
Just outside Jeff, we came across this odd sight. Just needs a coat of paint! According to the Vermont Community Newspaper, the bus was used as transportation at the 1968 World's Fair in San Antonio, Texas. Apparently it was sold to a Vermont entity and ended up on some private land in Vermont, right next to the LVRT.
What a pretty river the Lamoille is. Always enjoy riding by it and listening to it roar by. The water levels are low this year in all of the Vermont bodies of water that we saw.
Jeffersonville is just off the trail, so we had to detour onto the highway for the final run into the town.
We pulled in sometime around 3:00 or so. It felt good to complete the day's ride! Our accommodations! I'd never stayed at the Smugglers Notch Inn before. It's a neat place, quaint and quiet. I'm guessing it's a heck of a lot busier in the Fall during foliage season, and in Winter during ski season. It was perfect.
We quickly checked in and stowed our gear and bikes. Dad's idea was to explore the heady delights of the Brewster river. I was unfamiliar, but game for it. We were hot and sweaty and a nice swimming hole was just the ticket.
As we made our way down to the river, we looked at each other simultaneously with utterly dumbfounded looks. How the hell could we not have brought beer? Dad took off to fetch some, while I found us a spot to hop into the river. Save for one party further up the draw, we had the place to ourselves. He quickly returned with a four pack of the most glorious locally brewed hard cider.
It felt amazing to swim and cool off in such a beautiful, stunning locale. The Ciders truly hit the spot. After we'd had enough, we worked our way back to the Inn and got cleaned up for dinner.
Before the trip, I had scouted out all of the local breweries on or near the trail. There were a few! One that I had wanted to hit was a five minute walk away from the Inn. We walked over to Red Leaf Brewery as a pregame before dinner. What an absolutely delightful spot Red Leaf is. We chatted for quite a while with the owner/brewer. We got flights of beer and other samples in order to check out all of their offerings.
We enjoyed ourselves before walking to dinner. Neither one of us was feeling any pain at that point. I was hungry. The Smugglers Notch Inn has a restaurant in the "basement" of the building. Called the Village Tavern, it was reputed to be quite good. Given that we didn't have a car and were generally bereft of other options, we thought we'd give it a shot. I was excited to get there as my buddy Dave Fay, a buddy I grew up with in Colchester, would be meeting us there with his girlfriend, Alaina. Bianca and I had had dinner with them the previous fall on our Vermont trip, so I was looking forward to seeing them again!
We had a great visit with them! We had some great food and a couple of nice beverages. I thought that the restaurant was pretty good. I'd definitely recommend it! Thanks for meeting us Dave and Alaina!
After dinner we decided to hang out on the porch for a bit and take in the beautiful Vermont evening. The rigors of the day, along with the beverages, finally caught up with the old man. After a bit, the skies began to darken and a few mosquitos made their most unwelcome presence known. We retired shortly thereafter.
After a solid, but unspectacular morning repast we began preparations to make way. The day was beautiful and after a great night's sleep I was feeling energetic and eager to get rolling.
As the day began, we hugged the Lamoille for a good while.
We approached the hamlet of Cambridge Junction and were treated to this beautiful covered bridge. One of the many things I love about Vermont are the covered bridges. We'd encounter a few on this trail.
They've been fixing up a lot of these neat old rail depots.
There was definitely some weather rolling in. We felt as though the deluge was about to begin.
Another one of Vermont's many beautiful barns.
Pulling into Johnson, VT, famous for Johnson Woolen Mills. We'd stop for a bit here.
The aforementioned Johnson Woolen Mills. It's highly likely that most any Vermont deer hunters you see, as well as many other outdoors people are clad in the wares of JWM.
We stopped for a resupply in Johnson at the local Maplefields. Definitely the nicest chain of convenience stores that I've ever seen.
Even though we'd only been on the trail briefly, we got a cup of coffee and a snack and sat down at the local park. I had a partially consumed bag of cider donuts in my bag, as well. It's pretty hard to go wrong with Green Mountain Coffee Roasters coffee and Hartman's cider donuts.
After a nice break, we got back on the trail. We were on a mission.
We pulled into Lost Nation Brewery in Morrisville around lunchtime. We bought a couple of 16 ounce cans of beer to stash in our bags. My stomach was starting to really growl! We moved on, headed into town to a restaurant that we really like.
Lost Nation growing hops right in their outdoor patio!
We continued on, headed into the town of Morrisville!
We pulled into Ten Railroad. We wanted to score a spot on their shaded patio. A beverage or two and some lunch are what we sought.
Sadly, it wasn't meant to be. We got a spot at the patio, but there was but one waitress. In twenty minutes of waiting, we never saw her. We elected to move on as we had places to be and things to do.
We moved on to Rock Art Brewery, a place I've been to a few times, but hadn't been to in a while. We sampled their offerings. They have a couple of standouts. Ridge Runner Ale has always been one of my favorites. Alas, they don't serve any food! My stomach continued to growl!
As we departed Moville I made a grievous mistake. I realized that I had a lack of calories with me and no real idea of where we could resupply before much later in the day. I didn't trust my instincts and left town without adding anything to my stores. I had contemplated going in somewhere to snag a sandwich or some other snacks for the rest of the day, but in my haste to get on the trail, I didn't. Not good, not smart, and it would come back to haunt me later in the day.
The Metropolis of Wolcott. They had a really nice covered picnic area right next to the trail. It also housed a bike repair stand loaded with tools. What a great idea! Sadly, I hadn't been smart enough to bring anything to picnic on.
A beautiful bridge that the trail goes through.
Some wild Canada geese lounging around in the river.
At this point my legs were feeling pretty hollow. I definitely had that bonking feeling. I was really regretting not bringing anything for lunch. Desperately, I rummaged around in all of my bags and somehow found a forlorn apple cider donut! With a grin on my face, I marveled at my good fortune. The donut disappeared in seconds, barely touching the inside of my mouth before it reached my stomach. It wasn't much, but it would do.
We finally made it to our day's destination, Hardwick! Hardwick is a pretty neat little town with some really nice dining options and a few other amenities. It's right off the trail.
Dad had made reservations for us at this neat old bed and breakfast. It was high up on a hill and a bit of a steep ride to get up there. I felt like Lance Armstrong heading up Mont Ventoux in the Tour de France, except I didn't have any EPO. Much to my surprise, despite my lack of EPO, I'd been able to ride the entire way up, paper-boying for a bit here and there, but making it to the top without stopping. We both had worked up a powerful thirst and hunger. I was eagerly anticipating getting to our eventual dinner destination.
After a shower and a bit of relaxation we walked over to Positive Pie, an excellent pizza joint with a fantastic beer and cider selection.
We were feeling pretty wiped out after the day, but positively enjoyed the food and beverages at Positive Pie. That pizza didn't stand a chance. We housed all but two measly slices. We threw them into the fridge and planned to bring them along for a tasty snack on the next day's ride.
We sat on the porch for a bit after dinner enjoying a nightcap. The views of the river were pretty cool at the golden hour.
We woke early and had a nice continental breakfast. Sadly, Keurig coffee was the only coffee on offer at the B&B, so we knew we'd be getting something a bit stronger once we set sail. We got on the trail and immediately stopped at the local coffee shop, Front Seat Coffee. What an excellent place to get your morning fix. The joint was jumping of a morning. The good burghers of Hardwick surely seemed to love Front Seat Cafe. We did too. We each had a very respectable cup of coffee and ordered some food to go. Dad threw a breakfast sandwich into his bag and a giant chorizo burrito found its way into mine. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. I would not leave a town again without food in my bag.
We had 33 miles to go to get to the end of the trail. We knew that there were going to be a couple of trail closures along the way and that we would have to take one or two detours.
I never got tired of seeing bridges ahead on the trail. It was like Christmas morning as you approached the bridge. You didn't know what you were going to get, but inevitably it was a beautiful view of some river, creek or brook. We never did see any trolls living under the bridges, blessedly.
Apparently this giant Dairy farm provides a lot of the dairy products to the local area.
The denizenry of the local dairy farm.
Somewhere in this area we consumed our breakfast offerings from Front Seat Cafe. They were delicious and hit the spot perfectly, though the Chorizo wasn't very Chorizoy, unfortunately.
We were there at the wrong time of the year, but it was nonetheless pretty awesome to see this sugarhouse up close. The area appeared to be rife with maple tree farms.
The sky was so clear in this area that you could see for miles. No idea what those distant mountains were.
Making the approach to Joe's Pond, Vermont, near Danville. We were definitely getting close to the end of the trail.
We stopped at a nearby store in a futile attempt to get a maple creemee. They had the effrontery to offer maple ice cream and creemees, but not maple creemees! Makes no sense. The consumer wants maple creemees. I love chocolate and black raspberry especially, but nothing even comes close to touching a good maple creemee. The Canteen in Waterbury, Vermont has the Maple Mayhem, which is a glorious iteration of a maple creemee. It has a maple creemee base, maple syrup added to it, maple crunch candy, and then a large piece of maple sugar candy on top as the piece de resistance! Should your travels take you to the burgh of Waterbury, do yourself a solid and acquire a Maple Mayhem. I digress.
Ruh Roh Raggy. Some severe weather had caused some massive landslides, taking out portions of the trail.
Just ten more miles to our final destination, the Eastern Terminus of the trail.
Can I get a maple creeemee here? Denied again! Poor Marty is missing out on a can't miss revenue stream.
Again! Another trail closure. No big deal, it would just be a short distance and we'd be back on trail.
Coming close to the end. A really pretty section of the trail, lined with rock cliffs.
We got back on the trail after another detour and didn't see a soul. There were not even any tire tracks. There were downed trees precariously leaning against other trees above the trail seemingly waiting for a strong breeze to blow them over, killing some unsuspecting cyclist. The whole place seemed eerily quiet. I began to get the feeling that we'd errantly made our way back onto a closed section of the trail. Fortuitously, we rode under what appeared to be a highway overpass. There was a beaten path from the trail, up a steep hill to a frontage road that paralleled the highway. We pushed our bikes up the steep incline and found ourselves adjacent to the frontage road in someone's backyard. Oops. Sorry. Thankfully, shots did not ring out. We quickly made our way to the frontage road and rode into town and subsequently to the trailhead. Just like that, the ride was over.
The end of the trail. Saint Johnsbury, Vermont.
We loaded and locked the bikes into the back of Dad's truck that had been waiting for us for a few days. Our first stop was Whirligig Brewery in Saint J, which I had eagerly anticipated. They had moved to a new facility and had recently reopened. We walked in and nobody even looked at us. It was like we didn't even exist. No greeting from anyone. I was waiting for the "We don't serve your kind here" line, but we didn't even get that. Eventually we seated ourselves at the bar. The menu options were limited and after I was finally able to flag down a bartender I ordered this Strawberry Sour, which was excellent. The entire menu consisted of sours, which didn't interest Dad at all. We left, vowing never to go back, after the one beer.
Our final, and by far the most anticipated, brewery stop of the trip had us leave the state of Vermont! The sacrilege, I know! We slid over the Connecticut River into the outpost of Littleton, New Hampshire. The World Class Schilling Brewery would be our final stop.
The beers were amazing. Mostly European style beers. The bratwurst lunch with kraut was perfectly cooked and amazingly delicious.
The mighty Ammonoosuc river, a tributary of the Connecticut. It's a really picturesque spot.
This brewery is ginormous! There are multiple large buildings housing brewing facilities, restaurants, and tasting rooms.
If you are an aficionado of the suds, you'll absolutely want to make a pilgrimage to this place.
Headed home! Definitely one of the best adventures that Dad and I have ever had. I can't thank him enough for all that he did to make this trip happen.
If you were worried, you may now relax. We finally did get that maple creemee.
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