On to New Adventures: CTXL

Since the end of the Dirt 251 project, it’s been a great year of riding. I had some majorly great rides, if not truly MAJOR rides. They included:

Over the winter my route planning really kicked up. I absolutely love the scheming aspect of biking and with no Dirt 251 project to fret and fuss over, I needed something to fill in the gap. One thing that really grabbed my attention was thinking about an extension of the VTXL Route. It ends right with the border of Massachusetts less than an hour north of where I grew up. So I thought, why not make a route across Berkshire County? So I did. (Just to note, I’ve ridden parts of that route, but it’s not been fully checked.) When I got to the Connecticut border, I thought, “Why stop there?” so I continued down across the state, shooting for Stonington in the southeast corner and thus the “CTXL” was born. 

All winter I tweaked and messed with the route. Eventually, emailed it to Joe Cruz who created the VTXL route and Ronnie Romance, who’s a bit of a cycling legend: ride leader, bike gear/tire company owner, and a huge fan of both bicycles and Connecticut, plus he’s a pretty solid route builder. I was pleasantly surprised to hear back from Ron and he not only expressed enthusiasm for my endeavor, but he offered me his barn to stay in when I came through! So even though I began this CTXL project it was more of a thought experiment, I just had to follow up and ride it. So I picked a date, made sure my lovely mom could shuttle me and kept my fingers crossed for good weather.

SIDE NOTE: I’m planning to document the CTXL and other adventures here in a manner which mirrors my Dirt 251 style. It may be a bit much for anyone who’s trying to actually follow the route, but I’ll sprinkle riding tips throughout and if you actually want tips/advice/beta/etc. on riding them, reach out and I’ll happily share any of that with you.

The last weekend in May there was going to be more sun than rain (in southern New England at least), so I locked it all in and on a Thursday evening drove down to my childhood home in West Stockbridge MA. Early Friday, my mom drove me down to the MA/CT border in Mount Washington and after a quick goodbye, I headed south. And downhill too, which was lovely. The highest point in Connecticut (the shoulder of Mt Frissell, whose peak is in MA) was about a mile away and I’d be trending down as I made my way to the coast. I’d actually ridden this stretch in the Fall of ‘22, so it was nice to start with something familiar and the remote doubletrack road was gorgeous. The whole northwest section of Salisbury had previously been the Mount Riga Ironworks but fell into disuse as iron production modernized. The area is now privately owned, but this one public road runs through. Quickly, I was in Salisbury and then up onto a gorgeous forest track called Dark Hollow Road. From there, I wound down to and paralleled the Housatonic river. This is the same river that ran right next to my middle school and it was nice to see it further along its course: with a few industrial relics, some decent-looking fishing, and I even shared a course with the Appalachian Trail for a bit!

After passing West Cornwall’s beautiful covered bridge and little electric bike rental shop, I had a pair of climbs, the second of which landed me atop Mohawk Mountain. This vantage gave me great views to the north, east and south. There’s even a stone tower which has fallen into minor disrepair and now no longer affords views, due to the builder’s penchant for tree planting. But it was fun to see and certainly worth a turn off the road into the forest. I reconnected with a dirt road to descend, thanks to a rough section of trail. I hiked it, but it’s rideable on a non-loaded bike, or with more gumption. At the bottom of the forest road, I was lucky enough to see a bear. Lucky in that I was able to witness and even film it, but also lucky in that I saw it from far enough away that we didn’t scare the bejeezus out of each other. From there I was soon in Bantam, a borough of Litchfield whose name was apparently “derived from a word of the native peoples, who lived around Bantam Lake: peantum, meaning ‘he prays, or is praying’”. There were a number of good-looking options for lunch, but I stopped at A Mano, a cafe of the Arethusa Farm “empire”. They have two other locations just in Bantam (not to mention New Haven): a dinner spot and an ice cream shop. Brad had recommended the ice cream, but I needed real food in the moment, so I went with seemingly the only cycling-themed option: The Vanderpoel, a turkey, bacon and camembert sandwich, no doubt named for the Dutch Alpecin–Deceuninck rider. It hit the spot and powered me for the next section, one of my favorites of the trip.

South of Litchfield lies the White Memorial Conservation Center, an educational non-profit that manages 4000 acres of forest, fields and wetlands that are criss-crossed by 40 miles of trails, the majority of which are open to cycling. Many of them are carriage trails which lend themselves very well to riding. It’s certainly on the list to return to and I was happy Brad convinced me to add in more of them. I then enjoyed the quiet Pitch Road, which parallels two reservoirs and the climb up Moosehorn Road was quiet and I got to enjoy some gorgeous little bridges with artistic concrete work likely from the latter days of the CCC. After a quick pitstop at the Northfield General Store, I worked my way through a complex of suburban-style developments, interlaced with more natural areas, as well as the odd golf course. I did, however, see a bobcat which was pretty neat! I wasn’t fast enough to snap a photo, but I bet it loves eating the squirrels, chipmunks, birds, etc. in manicured lawns, but still having access to the forests and fields.

The next notable point was entering the single track of the Nassahegon State Forest. It was rideable at first, but I soon needed to push, owing to the fact that Connecticut mountain bike trial builders have a lot of granite to contend with and tend to just let it be, making for a chunky trailbed. This would become a theme of the single track on this trip, but at this point, I just hoofed along and was soon on a paved road. At an intersection, I saw two women collecting yard flamingos from in front of a painted rock. I just had to ask what they were doing and one said it was a flamingo-themed fundraiser for the senior class. She explained that they’re part of a group of moms who led the charge and dubbed themselves “The Mother Flockers”. Too funny. I had a wonderful drop down to the Farmington River and its bike trail. I took that up into Collinsville, a sweet little mill village of Canton which sprung up around the Collins Company Axe Factory. From here I’d initially planned to head up to Onion Mountain Park, which reportedly allows camping (there are other stealth camping options in the area). However, there were forecasts of up to an inch of rain that night and off and on showers the next day. So I considered the fact that I can make whatever decision I want for this trip, and decided to book a hotel in Avon, winding my way there via another branch of the river trail as well as busy US 202.

After a restful night’s sleep, a decent breakfast and a PB&J and stashed away for later, I headed out from the hotel to climb over the portion of the Metacomet Ridge that runs between Avon and West Hartford. The ridge is home to Heublein Tower, a daunting spire of a historic home which rises high from the already prominent ridge. If bikes were allowed in the surrounding state park, I’d recommend it as a side excursion, but alas the area is foot-traffic only. Had I not stayed at the hotel, the route had me going into the village of Simbsbury, across the Pinchot Sycamore bridge and use CT 185 to get over the ridge. But time being what it is and weather looking spotty, I decided to use the busy Avon Mountain Road. I donned my reflective vest and booked it as fast as I could (given the climb) making my way for a dirt access road which provides access to the Hartford reservoir system. There is an entire trial system that permeates the area, and once I arrived, it was like night and day. I’d have been forgiven for forgetting that I was in a town of almost 64,000 people adjacent to a capital city of almost 120,000.

I saw a few walkers and cyclists out enjoying the misty morning and I quickly entered the suburban splendor of West Hartford. This had special significance to me, as my dad’s side of the family lived there for many years. It was nice to be cruising down streets that have such a connection to my family. The stately houses whizzed by as I got closer to downtown Hartford. Soon I was passing the Mark Twain House and entering the core of the city. After a few tricky bits with little bike infrastructure, I took refuge in Bushnell Park, enjoying views of the State Capitol building, the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Arch and the enclosed carousel. After leaving the park and passing the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, I entered the downtown core that was severely torn up by urban renewal.There is an odd upper deck quality to downtown that hovers above the streets and the river. It’s all a bit strange. 

After I crossed the Connecticut river, I got views out to the blue onion dome of the East Armory building, which I have fond memories of passing on the way to my Grandma’s house as a kid. I wound my way around (and sort of through?) the sprawling Pratt and Whitney campus, continuing around UCONN’s football stadium, until joining the Charter Oak Greenway. Unbeknownst to me, I’d already been on the East Coast Greenway since downtown Hartford, but I continued on it, paralleling I-84. Other than a foggy view back towards the city and a nice encounter with a deer, this section dragged a bit. Don’t get me wrong: it was nice to be off roads, but it’s not entirely stimulating. Plus, the rain truly began at this point and didn’t really end until the last miles of the day. After a pitstop to refill supplies (and scarf down a hotdog), I turned off the greenway and climbed the carriage roads of Case Mountain. These were very enjoyable, as would have been to view from the top if it wasn’t pretty well socked in. However, I soon turned off the manicured paths and onto the Shenipsit Trail, a rocky singletrack that in this section allows bikes, but given the wetness and heaviness of my bike, I was unfortunately walking much of it. I saw on maps that it eventually connected with “Coop Road”, but that road didn’t turn out to be much better. Including a section in the Longo Farm Open Space area, it was about 4.5 miles of on and off again riding/hike-a-bike. Under different circumstances, it would have been better, so I’m keeping it on the route, but be ready for some slower going if you’re riding. 

After some wiggles through Glastonbury developments, I made my way across CT Route 2 and into Meshomasic State Forest. The second state forest ever in the US, the area has housed everything from CCC Camps to a Nike Missile Base. The whole area is traversed by absolutely gorgeous forest roads, the main one being Del Reeves Road. Camping seems to not be allowed and the road apparently closes at sunset, but if you’re thinking of doing this route, you could probably get away with stealth camping in there, as long as you’re away from the road. At this time, the rain continued to come down, but it was nice to have some views and not need to contend with traffic. I continued south, eventually latching onto the Air Line State Park Trail, a former railway connection that got its name from the multiple viaducts, some of which are the longest in the country. Sadly they’ve been filled in, so you can’t see their beautiful structures. I stopped briefly in East Hampton, which is certainly one of the places I’d like to return to. It seems like a sweet town. But I continued on, dropping down to the Salmon River, which I followed for a while, seeing anglers and other recreationalists. I especially liked being able to cross (and take shelter in) the Comstock covered bridge, and then take the unmaintained section of Gulf Road, which carried me high above the river through dense forest.

At this point, I began to parallel the Connecticut River and began to work my way into East Haddam. I passed through Johnsonville, the historic mill village/victorian ghost town/religious community. I opted not to drop down to the river to see the Goodspeed Opera House and newly rehabbed swing bridge. Instead, I stuck up in the hills and though I’d originally routed to go to Gillette Castle, I headed directly towards Ronnie Romance’s place. But even though I skipped it, you shouldn’t: it’s a wild-looking building with amazing views. Plus, there is a campground directly below it, on the river. But I pushed through the last few miles to get to Ronnie’s. He met me warmly and showed me into his “bike” barn. He provided me with a hose to rise off my bike, piping hot nettle tea and even some delicious fried dumplings. He’s just an incredibly generous and kind person. He had some work to do on one of his many bikes, so we chatted about land trusts and the history of the area as he replaced some bar tape. He was prepping his bike for the Tour de Lyme, a fundraiser for the Lyme Land Trust which was happening the next day and which he and his wife, Arya would not only be riding, but he also helped make the route. He also gave my route a few tweaks and kindly sent me an edited file. As my soaking clothes dried, I made my dinner and eventually settled into sleep, thankful for the benevolence of strangers and the roof over my head. 

The next morning, I got up to head out assuming that Ron and Arya had already begun their ride to the Tour de Lyme start. But they both popped out (wearing lovely, almost matching robes) to say good morning and let me know the TdL route goes right by their place, so they decided to sleep in and join the ride as they pass. I thanked them again and wished them all the best, heading down to the Hadlyme Country Market for breakfast. I was hoping for a breakfast sandwich, but they don’t have a grill, so a bagel with cream cheese would suffice. They also don’t have a public restroom, but generously let me use the staff one. As I sat on the porch with a nice guy who said he’s there regularly. We just watched the town go by and as we chatted and sure enough we saw many cyclists making their way to the ride’s start. And as I left, two fellow world-watchers showed up to continue the chatting. As I made my way back up into the hills, I was very happy for the route tweaks: these roads really are special. A fair number are paved, but there’s plenty of dirt and minimally traveled connector roads too (I couldn’t find what CT calls Class 4 roads). Mitchell Road was particularly gorgeous. I eventually reached CT 82 which I took to the end of CT 11, a divided highway that was only partially built and has some neat abandoned rock cuts that would be worth exploring if you have more time. I stopped for a break at Salem Valley Farms Ice Cream. It was a bit early for a sweet treat (plus they were closed), but it was nice to enjoy the sun in an Adirondack chair. I continued onto a suggested reroute and saw my first Tour de Lyme riders. They were going the opposite way, so it was fun to see a bunch of them, waving at each. After a short bit of that though, I turned into the forest to begin a long section of woods riding.

The 13-mile Goodwin Trail begins in East Haddam, but I would be jumping on east of that. Right off the bat, I knew I was in for some hike-a-bike. The narrow trail had exposed granite blocks, much like the Shenipsit Trail the day before. It wasn’t exactly technical, but with a loaded down, rigid drop bar bike, I was pushing quite a bit. But a fun surprise was that there is a Tour de Lyme Mountain Bike, which covers many of the trials in the area, so I wasn’t alone! Obviously I was passed quite a bit and folks were a bit confused as to why I was choosing to be in there, but there was a great camaraderie among us. Soon though, their route peeled off south and I continued on the Goodwin trail, reaching the Homes Road trail head, after some wet crossings and marginally better trails. From that trailhead, the trail followed a forest road and the riding was much smoother. In fact, for the final CTXL route, I opted to cut out the first bit and instead come onto the Goodwin from Holmes. The route remained a double track, but with some rougher sections. However it was rideable for the vast majority of the stretch. I eventually reached the end of the Goodwin Trail at an open meadow which was flanked by an enormous oak tree (that some hardy volunteers recently freed from being taken over by bittersweet). From there I had a little bit of trail to ride, then experienced a stark change of scenery: popping out into a McMansion development after having spent the last 10 or so miles in the woods.

I then traversed a sprawling shopping mall complex and crossed I-95 by way of Route 1. Heads up through this area as there’s a lot of traffic and the road makes you feel like you’re on an onramp. It’s all a bit hairy, but soon I was back in the woods: riding a trail in the Oswegatchie Hills Nature Preserve and the forests north of it. It was here that I got my first glimpse of salt water: the harbor mouth of the Niantic River. There were lovely views through the woods to the water and I only had to hop off the bike a couple of times. I then entered the town of Niantic and feeling hungry, Googled “Deli” and happened to be right next to Hartford Giant Grinder. So I swung in and ordered a “half” buffalo chicken and proceeded to only be able to eat half of it. Thank goodness I didn’t opt for the full! After stashing the half of my “half” and filling my bottles, I cruised down to Main street. Sadly, Niantic is cut off from its waterfront by the busy rail lines. There is a boardwalk and beach, but it’s only accessible from either end. That being said, it’s still a lovely looking town and I was happy to be following the coast for a bit. I had to take a wide berth around the Millstone Nuclear Powerplant, but then cruised by some coastal gems I’d have explored if I had more time. Seaside State Park, Harkness Memorial State Park, the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center, Waterford Beach and Ocean Beach Park are all worth considering. Riding around New London Harbor towards the Harbor Lighthouse, I was really enjoying the coastal vibes. 

I soon worked my way into New London and entered Fort Trumbull State Park. My initial plan had been to take the Water Taxi from there over to Groton. But the night before, I sadly discovered that the taxi wasn’t starting until the next weekend. So I had to do a detour up onto the noisy, narrow bike/ped shoulder of I-95 and work my way across the river that way. The taxi would really have been nice, so if you can time your ride to reach New London on a Saturday or a Sunday between 11:00am and 6:00pm, I’d recommend it. I then worked my way down into the northern reaches of Bluff Point State Park, yet another great option for detours. There are tons of trails crisscrossing the peninsula. After paralleling the rail lines again for a bit, I took a pedestrian bridge over the Haley Farm State Park. More trails and stone walls built out of enormous rocks were the name of the game here. Eventually I crossed a road and entered the Mortimer Wright Preserve. When making the route, I was doing my best to avoid roads, especially busy ones and this option looked pretty good. However, once getting into there, it was more chunky single track that was marginally rideable on my bike. It was just a bit much at this point in the ride, so in the final route, I cut it out and you just cut towards Noank and take Route 215 up into Mystic. When I got to Mystic, I didn’t understand why there was so much traffic and as I weaved up towards the main 4-way stop, I realized that the bascule bridge was up! Not only that, but it perfectly started lowering as I got up to it. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any good shots of the bridge, its enormous counterweights, or have time to spend in town. But Mystic is certainly on my “must return to” list. From there I worked my way over to Stonington, enjoying its gorgeous architecture and even an MG “Midget”! I passed by the town’s diminutive lighthouse and ended on its blustery point, happy to have finally ridden this route I’d been tinkering with for months!

Overall, it was such a joy and privilege to do this ride. I had such a blast. Thanks to everyone who made it possible and thanks for reading through all this. If you want to ride the route, I’ll happily provide any support I can. Enjoy the ride!

The Route:

Here are the days as ridden. Click to be taken to the Strava page for each.

And here is the full route with post-ride edits (I tried embedding it, but WordPress doesn’t seem to like that):

https://www.strava.com/routes/3365677592410225538

Dirt 251 Final Reflection & Superlatives

It’s been a few months since wrapping up the Dirt 251 project. The snow this winter has been marginal: I’ve skied more than I’ve biked, but I’ve BIKED! OUTSIDE! Overall (between grumbling and stressing about this weird winter) I think I’ve had enough time to really look back and reflect on everything. This post will serve as a vessel into which I can place some of my thoughts. I’ll mainly do it through superlatives, but will include some bigger pictures reflections at the end.

First, let’s get to some numbers:

  • Miles Ridden – 2337.16
  • Feet Climbed – 218,164
  • Climbing to Distance Ratio – 93.346 (100 is the Golden Gravel Ratio) 
  • Moving Time- 8 Days 14 hours 36 minutes 12 seconds
  • Elapsed Time – 11 days 1 hour 58 minutes 12 seconds
  • People Ridden With – 25+

Spending over 8 days of my life in the saddle of a bicycle doing this project has obviously been time well spent. If you’d asked me at the beginning, how long would this take, I doubt I’d have said over 8 days. It’s also notable that I spent close to three cumulative days taking breaks on these rides. But then again riding the equivalent distance (according to Google bike directions) from my house to Breckenridge Colorado and climbing the elevation of 7.5 Mount Everests deserves a bit of a break. Okay, this is quickly sliding into bragging territory, so let’s change the vibe and share some gratitude for some of the 25+ people with whom I rode:

  • Chris and John: The Jesters of Gravel. You guys weren’t on many of these rides, but when you were there it was always quality. You brought the fun and suffered nobly. From the multiple bee stings Chris suffered on Ride 2 to the unrelenting hills on Ride 30, you were equal parts tenacious and non-serious. 
  • Jared: I swear you could have done this in half my time if you weren’t busy rocking so many other accomplishments. You were always gung-ho and were happy to wait for my sluggish pace up the big climbs. I especially appreciated the 1:1 time we got together on Ride 21.
  • Kevin & Rachel: Basically bookending the project, you two were the best. From the local beta to the adorable notes accompanying the delicious donuts, you two are true gems.
  • Rachel & Tyler: You two have been my bike sages since before all this 251 business started. I’ve learned so much from you and appreciate your generous spirits. Plus you now run the best dang gravel event in the state, so thanks for that too!
  • Cameron & Dan: I logged a lot of miles with you guys. You were both there on my first century (Ride 11) and I’ve learned a lot from you both: from how to take better photos (even if I’m not a pro) to how to keep the silly in cycling (was EVERY ride named after a Jack Johnson lyric that summer?).
  • Kristine, Darby, Beth & Luke: My Winooski Bike Gang Crew! Though I love the weekly group rides, it was so nice to spend time with y’all out in the wilds of Vermont (and Canada!). I’ve appreciated getting to know you all better and I’m SURE we’ll do an overnighter this year.
  • Rafaela: I think we basically met because of these rides. And even if not, they certainly helped us grow closer. Thank you so much for your insightful considerations on life and just being a wholly warm human being. No matter the weather, terrain or whatever, I always know a ride will be pleasant when you are on it.
  • Maddie: There’s absolutely no way I could have done it without you. Your company on the bike was second to none, and your support throughout this whole process (both on the bike and off) have been absolutely necessary to its success. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
  • Brad: Yes, I saved you for last, even after Maddie. I mean you were on more than 1/3 of these rides: far and above what anyone else did. You provided me with expertise, support (both logistical and emotional), route ideas and at least one tube. You are the best damned riding partner anyone could ask for. Thank you and here’s to many more years in the saddle together!

Okay, enough mushy stuff, let’s channel our inner high school yearbook and do some superlatives. For most of these, there will be runners up and/or (dis)honorable mentions. I’ll do my best to explain the category (if needed) and at the very least provide a little color to fill in my thinking on why I chose it.

Favorite Town: Baltimore

7.1 miles of some of the choicest roads in the state. AND ALL DIRT! I mean, how many folks have heard of Baltimore, let alone been there? There’s just no way I’d have been through had it not been for this project. It has an awesome origin story, breaking off from Cavendish in 1793 and some pretty neat history too. All with only one public building! It just checks so many boxes for me. I love it. Oh and one piece of bonus trivia: Baltimore is one of only seven municipalities in Vermont with no State Highways. The others? Stannard, Brookline, Granby, Victory, Huntington and Lincoln. You might think Chittenden would be one as well, but it has .1 miles of Route 73.

Most Interesting Town History: Middletown Springs

Similar to Baltimore, there was a decision to create a new town because of natural barriers that made an emerging settlement closer than the villages of the towns in which folks actually lived. This led to new political boundaries that mirror geographic features, which I love and just looking at the shape of the town, you can see there must be a story there. Its early economy was built around mills and tanneries, but a storm washed all but one away. Water continued to be a throughline in its story, as it also had a boom and bust cycle around mineral springs and the tourism associated with that fad (it even led to the addition of “Springs” to the town’s name in 1884). There’s more to it than just that, but generally I see it mirroring a lot of Vermont’s history. Check out articles HERE, HERE and HERE to learn more about the town.

Honorable Mentions: Brownington & Proctor

Best Road Name: Four Wheel Drive, Norwich

It’s a pun. It’s short. It’s a bit subtle. I LOVE it.

Honorable Mentions: 

Longest Distance in One Town: Alburgh

Because of its length, the fact that I wanted to hit up Line Road, the rail trail and Alburgh Dunes State Park, as well as the detour over to Isle La Motte, we spent a whopping 29 miles in Alburgh! 

Speaking of long mileage, I discovered Joe Cook who had a project to ride every paved road on the State Highway map. Sort of the anti-Dirt 251. I’m not sure what exactly the State Highway Map is, but wow, what an idea and as far as I know he did it. Inspired by Joe Cook, I also learned of Chuck Rainville who duplicated Joe’s feat and did some more detailed blogging about it. And lastly, through that blog did I learn about Dr. Edward A Keenan Jr. who walked every Class IV road or better in Vermont (excluding Interstates), finishing when he was 80!

Shortest Shrift Town: Winhall

Only one mile for poor Winhall. I know for a fact that there is some awesome riding in the town, but despite my best route planning efforts (and my personal “rules” for the project) I just clipped it. The VTXL Route goes through Winhall on the backside of Stratton Mountain and I certainly want to get down there, but the northern end of town just didn’t present to many opportunities for dirt roads what weren’t way out of the way and/or didn’t add in a bunch of busy paved road riding. All the towns mentioned below were a similar story. Maybe I’ll just need to do a series of redemption rides and pedal the crap out of all of them. 

Honorable Mentions: Warners Grant, Grafton, Brookline, Mt Tabor, Lowell, Vernon, Mendon, South Burlington & Readsboro

Best Animal Sighting: Snapping Turtle in Royalton

This thing was right in the middle of the road on a screaming descent. Maddie and I were a bit behind the pack and slammed on our brakes to take a look. We were amazed the others didn’t stop, but when we asked them about it, they’d somehow didn’t even see it! Luckily, it wasn’t right on a corner, because hitting that reptile at the speeds we were going wouldn’t have been good for either of us.

Honorable Mention: Alpacas, deer, cows, salamanders, butterflies, goats, cows, shop/cafe dogs and that one wild-looking iridescent beetle.

Best Food: The Ranger, Ride 30

This isn’t exactly a fair fight since The Ranger is an amazingly well organized, paid ride (thanks Rachel and Tyler!). However, I can’t ignore the quality of the offerings. From the sugary waffles at the aid stations, to the stunning post-race food from The Brownsville Butcher, it had it all. Really second to none. 

Honorable Mentions: Dots and Roadrunner on Ride 40, The Tastee Freeze on Ride 37, Canteen Creemee on Ride 33, & Gretchen and Ian’s blueberry buckle and other pies on Ride 6.

Best Barn: West View Farm Round Barn, Waterford

This beauty kind of came out of nowhere. I knew the route had a fun little section of Class IV road, but I didn’t expect an immaculate round barn and other gorgeous buildings of this homestead right at the end of it! It was in the last few miles of the ride and I relished the opportunity to slow down in the shade and drink it all in. 

Honorable Mentions:

Best Views (Town): Westmore

There were obviously gorgeous views all over the place and picking a favorite locale for them was tough. But I thought hard and went for the jaw-dropping stunning views of Westmore. First there was the foliage tunnel with peek-a-boo views of Long Pond Road. Then cruising down Route 5A past waterfalls coming off the 1500 foot cliffs of Mount Pisgah looming to our left and sandwiched between the deep water of Lake Willoughby to our right. It was all capped off by the CCC Road climb (which okay topped out in Sutton) but the glimpses we got of the lake were fantastic. Plus, it wasn’t directly on a ride, but my stop at Sentinel Rock State Park after Ride 38 provided some of the best wide angle scenery I’ve ever seen in the state.

Honorable Mention: Cambridge

Best Views (Route): Ride 22

Ride 22 was my second century and essentially a Greatest Hits Compilation for Addison County: so we had a lot of miles to paint with and my what a canvas! Addison County just doesn’t quit. There are looks to the west up into the Highlands of Ripton, across towards the Adirondacks and in between innumerable corn fields, pastures, hills, quiet lanes and wooded thickets. Plus the white gravel in some of the southern reaches of the ride always stops me in my tracks.

Honorable Mention: Ride 28

Most Remote Route: Ride 31

Yes, “remote” is a pretty subjective measure. But I went with feeling on this one. Spending the night in the shadow of the radar towers of a Cold War era military base on top of a mountain in the least populated part of the least populated region of the state doesn’t get more remote-feeling. Yes, there were other people up there with me, and yes, they did drive up there. But some were irresponsibly shooting guns and man did I feel far from definitive care when I heard those bullets ricocheting above my tent. But I think it was the remoteness that brought this route some sweet surprises, the top one of course being the Mother Nature’s Mountain Farm Stand and their ice-cold, nectar-of-the-gods sun tea.

Honorable Mention: Ride 40

Worst Mud: Unknown Pond Road, Avery’s Gore

This track is basically only a VAST trail and there’s no real reason why anyone would bike it unless they’re doing the 251 Club. It’s so swampy, I’m shocked my shoes didn’t get sucked off my feet at any point. You can barely even see the pond once you get up there. I’m glad I went, but I’m not going back.

Dishonorable Mentions: Sparhawk Road – Wheelock, Mt Moses Trail – Bridgewater

Best Vehicle: Painted Subaru, Stanstead, Quebec

Okay, I know I’m stretching the rules a bit with this one, but these superlatives need a little international flair, right? This thing really was a piece of art. I wish I’d taken pictures of every side of it. It was amazing!

Honorable Mentions:

Worst Climb: Radar Road in New Haven

Before any down, there must be an up and this one was a doozy. Including the approach on John Irwin Road from Victory, this climb is 8.5 miles and climbs 2,815 feet with an average grade of 4.8%. Towards the top it ramps up to almost 10% for the last two miles and 1,037 feet of elevation. And then there’s the strangely paved portion at the very top which messes with your head because it should be easier with the nice surface, but you’re so gassed by that point you can’t see straight. I’m not ashamed to admit I hiked more than a few stretches. Maybe with an unloaded bike I’d be able to clean it, but wow what a climb. The views were 100% worth it though.

Dishonorable Mentions: Brandon Gap on 73 Out of Rochester, Quimby Mountain Road – Killington, Kelley Stand Road – Sunderland

Best Descent: CCC Road off Mount Hoar in Sutton

The surface was gravel, but silky smooth. Plus the leaves were peaking and the sun was just right. And lastly the angle of descent and the curve of the turns were just right for us to really rip without it getting too sketchy.

Honorable Mentions: Larkin Road – Tunbridge, Johnson Hill Road – Royalton, Kelley Stand Road – Sunderland, Burton Hill Road – Irasburg and any shaded dirt road that parallels a small stream

Most Difficult Route: Ride 37

There were a few different cruxes in this one. The Bennington and Shaftsbury portions were really quite pleasant. But Country Road from Pownall into Stamford and especially Stage Coach Road in Woodford were just killers. Plus the Route 8 climb in between them was no slouch either. It wasn’t the elevation so much (though this ride was over ratio) it was the surface. There were just so many sections of muddy bogs or huge, sharp baby-head rocks. I definitely hiked for some of the longest stretches of the whole project. But you’ve gotta hit those roads at least once!

Honorable Mention: Ride 34

Most Chill Route: Ride 32

It makes sense that the chillest route would be the only ride where I just covered one municipality. Plus it doesn’t hurt that the newly minted city is not even 5 square miles. Though it was pretty laid back, I am proud of myself for finding some fun pockets of trails and dirt roads. And it was pretty neat being able to ride through a newly formed city. The last time Vermont got a new municipality was when South Burlington swapped from a town to a city in 1971. Fun city bonus fact: Vergennes is not only the oldest city in Vermont, it’s the third oldest city (when measured by incorporation date) in the entire USA, after Hartford and New Haven CT.

Honorable Mention: Ride 7

Best Aprés Scene: Ride 2

This was the first group ride of the Dirt 251 project and it really worked out well. We had a lunch of homemade ciabatta rolls with delicious sandwich fixings and an awesome swimming session at the Chelsea Street Bridge swimming hole in Royalton. I so appreciated having extra time with everyone on that ride.

Honorable Mentions: Jake Carrie’s pond- Ride 4, Sentinel Rock & Willoughby swim- Ride 38, Post-century vibes and finding Maddie’s glasses- Ride 11

Best Roadside Attraction or Oddity: Post Mills Airport

We didn’t get the full Post Mills Airport experience, and I do want to go back to see the museum. But even just seeing the Vermontasaurus and other quirky structures there was fantastic. The story of the place is of course inspiring and tragic all at the same time. It’s truly one of a kind.

Honorable Mentions:

Worst Road: Stage Coach, Woodford

Woof. This thing is a bear. It is amazing to be able to be in that area on a bike, but it’s MUCH better suited to a mountain bike or really an ATV. The huge, sharp baby-head stones they’ve “improved” the trail with just aren’t meant for cycle tires. There was so much hike-a-bike and the worst part? the descent into Bennington at the end was so steep and rough, it was basically just as much work as the rest of it! Maybe if I do the Vermont Super-8 I’ll go again, but it will take some convincing.

Dishonorable Mentions: Unknown Pond Road – Averys Gore, Birdseye Road – Ira, Various “Legal Trails” and ATV Trails.

Best Road: Old Foundry, Orwell

Old Foundry isn’t the flashiest road. It has views, it has dirt, it’s narrow with trees arching fully overhead at points: it has many things that other roads have. But it just feels so different. It seems to be removed in time and space. Routes 73 and 22A rumble off to the east, but it’s just settled into the land, doing its own thing and it allows you to do the same.

Honorable Mentions: Natural Turnpike – Ripton, West Mountain Road – Shaftsbury, Middle/South Hill Roads – Goshen & Chittenden, Bull Moose Road – Stowe, Cloudland & HW42 – Woodstock, and Syndicate Road/Carver Street – Pittsford & Brandon.

Best Sign: “Bad Turn“, Greenboro

This thing is truly folk art. There’s a whole story going on and it’s just the little touches I love: the black outline like on a real road sign, the hat shooting off, plus the bird’s sung lament really just takes the cake.

Best General Store: Buxton’s Store, Orwell

Like many of these categories, this winner is somewhat context-dependent. Coming at mile 58 of our Addison County century, it was timed well. Additionally, seeing our old friend Kyle there was a fun surprise. But there are some things that make this one special on its own. Firstly, it just fits the part visually: a beautiful white building with a small porch in front of large picture windows amidst the sparse Main Street. Inside, it has the stuffed-full-but-not-too-full aesthetic down and has the creaky floorboards to match. Plus they had a cardboard cutout of Bernie in his mittens! The sandwiches were great (they make a mean Vermonter) and though it was closed for a bit, the deli counter seems to have reopened! It’s certainly worth a stop.

Honorable Mentions: Pierce’s Store – Shaftsbury, Brownsville Butcher, Putney General Store, Warren Store, Wells Country Store, Sherman’s Store – West Rupert, Dan & Whit’s – Norwich, Willey’s Store – Greensboro, Falls General Store – Northfield Falls, Willoughby Lake Store – Westmore & The Cupboard – Jeffersonville.

Best Overall Route: Ride 25

This is one that was probably buoyed by the weather, the company and other circumstances of the day and not necessarily the route, but of course I’d have to pick one and this was it. It had remote Class IV roads. It had classic areas like Darling Hill in Lyndonville. It had fun road names (looking at you Black Fly Boulevard). It had panoramic views multiple times over. It had a classic general store. It just had a little bit of everything you want on a route. The one thing I’d say is avoid the Class IV shortcut from Morery Road to King George. Or look a bit longer for the entrance. That bushwhack was a stinker. 

Honorable Mentions: Ride 36, Ride 41 and Ride 42

This whole thing kind of started out on a whim: it was a way to keep busy and stay sane during the height of Covid. I figured I’d get into it, but had no idea how much time and energy it would take. Not to say that’s a bad thing: it led to so much enjoyment. That time and energy planning was just as pleasurable as the actual riding (sometimes more so!). I didn’t keep track of the hours I spent planning and researching the rides before and after, but I’m sure it’s close the the time on the bike. 

Getting to see this state at the pace my wheels could carry me has been the perfect way to see it. Vermont is of course gorgeous. It has its rougher edges and plenty of challenges, but there is so much kindness and community spread throughout these verdant hills. Plus, for such a small state, there are so many distinct regions, cultures, ecosystems, economies, and on and on. I’ve only scratched the surface, since there’s only so much you can see and learn from the sitting seat of a bike riding, or behind a laptop researching. But digging in that little bit has just redoubled my commitment to building a life where I continue getting to know this place and its people.

In addition to how much I’ve obviously learned about my Green Mountain State, I’ve grown and learned so much about myself. Outlining those lessons would be impossible (and frankly not all that interesting a read). So suffice it to say, I’m incredibly grateful to have had this experience and acknowledge the immense privilege that it has been. Thank you again to everyone who supported me. So get on out there and explore your community. You never know what you’ll find and you won’t regret it!

Ride 42: Chelsea, Vershire, West Fairlee, Fairlee, Thetford & Norwich

Well, to spoil it: I did it. I finished. However, this entry will be similar to those that preceded it and will consist mainly of me just recounting the ride and sprinkling in a few (okay more than a few) fun facts along the way. I’m planning to do a full write up of the whole project after a bit more time has passed and I can think up categories and answers for all the superlative categories I and some friends have been trying to come up with. Speaking of friends, I was lucky enough to have Brad join me on this last ride, along with a newcomer to the 251 rides, but a familiar face from the Winooski Bike Gang: Luke. Because this route was a point-to-point ride, we had to set up a shuttle. So we decided to meet at Dan and Whit’s Store in Norwich where we’d end and then all pile into Luke’s truck for the drive up to Chelsea. Quick side note: the Ford Maverick hybrid that Luke drives is a slick little truck. If I needed a truck, it would be up there on my list. But anyway, after arriving on the Chelsea Common (not to be confused with literary Chelsea Green or the pugilistic Chelsea Green) we began to prepare. The day was overcast and in the 50s, but promised to warm a bit with some touches of sun, so layering was a tough call. As always during this time of year, I had an extra bag on and brought some security blanket extra layers. Soon enough we were ready and began south on Route 110

Chelsea sits in the valley of the First Branch of the White River which is also the title of a lovely Edward Hopper painting. It’s a beautiful town with an historic village center and also lays claim to hosting the grave of the most famous horse in Vermont History. Atop our metal steeds, we enjoyed some brief riverside flats, but just after passing a community softball game, we turned up Jenkins Brook Road to begin the longest climb of the day. It was a 5 mile push, but with the temperatures down, it provided a nice warm up. We had a few cars pass, but mainly we just chatted and we all got to know each other a little better. After turning onto Vershire Center Road, the climb continued but it soon turned to a Class 4 section. It was in good shape and, according to Brad, much better than when he passed that way on the VTXL route. Interestingly, there’s a half a mile right here that is one of only a handful of places in the state where the VTXL route and the Vermont Super 8 share paths. Once we’d reached the top, we had a quick rest, but then began to descend into Vershire. Smaller in population than Chelsea and without its core village, Vershire is a former mining town. For the second half of the 1800’s there was a large copper mine that employed nearly 800 people. The Ely Mine was central to the town, but thanks to changing economies, pollution and even a “War” the mine shuttered in 1905. It’s since been classified as a superfund site, and is finally scheduled for remediation next year, but not before an archeological dig. On our descent, we passed right by the mine along with a semester program for high school juniors where they learn and manage the land of the 418 acre campus. We continued down the sleepy roads until we reached Erin’s General Store along Route 113. We didn’t need any supplies, but did linger for a minute under the deer hang, careful to avoid the ground which was stained red thanks to a lucky bow hunter and an unlucky deer.

With a short run into West Fairlee we now headed north, but soon were dancing back into Vershire along Beaver Meadow Road. As you may have guessed based on the name and geography, West Fairlee was originally part of Fairlee, but split off in 1797. It’s now yet another sleepy “bedroom community”, and we did even pass an obvious sign for an Airbnb, so it obviously caters to tourists as well. At the top of Beaver Meadow, the road turned to a Class 4 and we had a great ride down to Bear Notch road: a slightly chunky, but overall well built (for a Class 4) section of road. It connects north to Corinth as well, and might be worth further exploration. That road carried us into West Fairlee Center where we did a brief paved climb that took us up to Brushwood Road and yet another Class 4 section. This one was a bit more unknown, but thanks to a Youtube video I somehow discovered, I figured it would be mostly rideable at least. The climb up was a bit challenging, but at the top we got a nice rest and it turns out we were in Fairlee (no sign though). This area has a number of ATV trails and again, would be fun to come back to and explore. The ride down was fun, with only a few sketchy spots over some ledge. The best part was that our friend Rachel appeared 1/3 of the way down! She lives just across the river and came by to provide some company and even DONUTS! Major props to her for that and for making the climb up what we were descending: it was quite steep! 

We popped out right at the Hulbert Outdoor Center which is one of a number of area camps owned and operated by the Aloha Foundation. They are centered around Lake Fairlee and Lake Morey. The latter being host to a resort and conference center that many Vermonters are familiar with due to its central location being what I call “equally inconvenient for everyone” and hosting a ton of day-long meetings, trainings and conferences. In the winter the lake also plays host to maybe the longest outdoor skate trail in the country and looks like a great time! We curved around the lake’s west side, wending our way past a golf course stopping at Wing’s Market. Brad, Luke and I all got some form of fried chicken and the warm snack and water refill was a welcome respite. Unfortunately, this is where Rachel had to leave us, but we said our goodbyes and took the somewhat monotonous pavement of Route 5 and Route 244 eventually reaching the welcome dirt of Hebbard Road.

Along our climb, we soon crossed into Thetford, passing yet another Aloha Foundation camp, before dropping down to Lake Fairlee and the Post Mills area. Post Mills is one of seven villages within the town and is by far most famous for its airport. The airport was founded in 1945 and didn’t really come into its own until it was bought by Brian Boland, the eccentric collector, balloon pilot and banana lover in 1988. He amassed various collections and stored them in a de facto museum on the airport grounds, which are also guarded by multiple scrap wood dinosaurs, including the original: the Vermontasaurus. He was an avid balloon pilot and builder who sadly died in a bizarre accident that has left the community reeling and trying to determine how to manage the airport moving forward. We didn’t have time to check out the museum (though I’m certainly going to head back for a visit), but we did check out the wooden dinos and I took a moment to think of the man behind it all. We hopped briefly back into Route 113 before turning up Barker Road which eventually carried us to yet another Class 4 road. Poor Farm Road passes right between an old barn and a new kind of swanky-looking modern farmhouse. From there we has a nice cruise down over the Thetford Center AKA Sayers covered bridge and into the sleepy village. There was a general store that unfortunately didn’t survive Covid and the tough job market, and is currently for sale. Though it sounds like a Hallmark movie, don’t be fooled by the price: it apparently needs a bunch of work. 

We zipped through town and turned onto Buzzell Bridge Road and into the Union Village Dam Recreation Area. The area is crisscrossed by trails and multiple swimming areas, the latter of which are graced with “No Nude Swimming” signs. I later learned from a friend that there was a community debate a few years ago about whether or not to allow clothing optional bathing and they ended up erring on the family friendly sign. We didn’t see any swimmers, and amazingly not much damage from the summer’s extensive floods. In general, Thetford dodged a bullet and the dam did its job, but given the fact that the water was over 25 feet above the road, the whole area was in fantastic shape. Ironically, the worst damaged section was a bit of paved road right next to the dam. We managed to find a tight line next to the deep gullies and rode to the top of the dam. Once up there, we saw a couple of folks posing for what we assumed were band promo shots. I’m very frustrated that I didn’t ask their band name, but I hope the shots came out well!

At the bottom of the dam we entered the historic settlement of Union Village. The first Europeans moved into the area in the 1790s and it prospered thanks to its mills which were powered by a (much smaller than the present-day) dam in the Ompompanoosuc River. It was called Union Village because it straddled the border of Thetford and Norwich (as well as Orange and Windsor Counties). A small schoolhouse, which is still present, used to be situated directly on the line and there was a long row of nails that ran right down the floor, dividing the classroom in half. These days there are some lovely old buildings and a covered bridge but it’s pretty sleepy. However, by crossing into Norwich, I was technically done so joked that Brad and Luke should go get the truck and pick me up. Instead, we pushed on for our last climb of the day. We quickly crossed Route 132, and began chugging up Kerwin Hill Road. This dead-end road is somewhat steep, but has multiple nice houses along the way. At the top, the road becomes the Badley Hill Trail, one of MANY trails in Norwich (including the Appalachian Trail which runs right through downtown). 

We took Bradley Hill Road (at this point no longer a Trail) further down and because I wanted to squeeze in one more off-road section, we turned onto Maple Hill Road. Just after the turn we passed a gorgeous homestead with a stunning mustard yellow farmhouse and adjacent barns. It turns out it’s the Olcott House and Maple Hill Farm which was built (well, paid to have built) by the state’s first Lieutenant Governor Peter Olcott in 1789. The whole complex was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2020 and it’s just a beautiful property. We continued down the hill and took a right onto a path through the woods that began as a smooth, wide lane, but soon essentially petered out to nothing. But we pushed through and eventually made our way to an open field with views of the Connecticut and Dartmouth’s Baker-Berry Library across the river in Hanover. We were now on the aptly-named “Four Wheel Drive” which we zoomed down to Church Street and into the village. Back at Dan and Whit’s, we changed and found a bite to eat in the “if we don’t have it, you don’t need it” aisles of the sprawling store. It’s been in the Fraser family for over 65 years but it’s been “a general store for several hundred years beyond that and has also served as town hall, a bank and the local post office.” It really seems to be a community hub and I’m jealous I don’t live closer. We soon split up and I drove Luke back up to Chelsea and his truck, then continued homeward. 

As I mentioned at the beginning, I’ll have a more comprehensive reflection and write up of the whole project, but I will say now that it’s been such a satisfying experience. It’s taken me to places I never would have otherwise gone and though it was a silly, arbitrary goal, it’s one that I set close to 3.5 years ago and have followed through on. I’m so proud of what I’ve done, thankful to those who have joined and helped along the way and mostly in awe of this Brave Little State and all it has to offer.

The Details:

https://www.strava.com/activities/10039486027

https://fatmap.com/adventureid/87691767/dirt-251-chelsea-vershire-west-fairlee-fairlee-thetford-norwich?fmid=cp

Ride 41: Westminster, Athens & Putney

Much like Ride 40, the loop for 41 went through many iterations. They’d both been planned for so long, that my skills, goals and knowledge around route planning outpaced them. Originally, the route was going to be a day route, avoiding the large ridge that separates Athens from Westminster and Putney. I then realized I wanted to keep the loops within the borders of the towns I hadn’t done yet (as much as possible) and also discovered some Class 4 roads connecting over the ridge. In addition to the abandoned town roads, there was also an entire trail network crisscrossing the ridge. And not only that, there was a CABIN on the ridge run by the same group that manages the trails and land. At this point, I rerouted onto the trails, and made it into a short two day trip by calling and making a reservation for the cabin. However, I soon had yet another realization that it’s possible to take the train to Bellows Falls (which yes is a village of Rockingham) but it’s right on the border of Westminster and I was a bit bummed to have missed lovely Bellows Falls previously! I very excitedly logged onto the Amtrak site to get tickets for an upcoming weekend, but while there were plenty of human tickets available, the bike tickets were sold out! It turns out the Vermonter line only has space for two, non-boxed bikes. How silly is that?!? So while this couldn’t be a fully bike and train-powered weekend, I was still excited to do some biking with both Maddie and Brad.

As the appointed Saturday neared, Brad let me know that he wanted to do a longer ride, given the length of the drive to get down there. That was totally understandable, as (in the end) the time it took me to ride day one was only marginally longer than the drive. So Brad left earlier and began riding from Hartland while Maddie and I drove down a few hours later. My start point would still be Bellows Falls, since I wanted to test if this would be a good potential train loop. Getting into town, the timing just happened to work out that it would have been almost exactly when the train would have arrived. In fact, Maddie took a video of the train’s slow roll out of town soon after I left. We parked next to the beautiful Frank Adams Grist Mill, a fully intact 1831 mill which was active until the mid-1960s. Maddie had opted not to ride this leg with me as it was really climby and she’d also enjoyed how we’d done things at Grout Pond. So she’d hang out a bit in town then make the drive and short hike up to the cabin. I began my ride by making my way out of town on VT 121, which I soon turned off, but as a note to fellow gravel enthusiasts: it appears to be a beautiful dirt road for much of its run up from Grafton towards North Windham. After entering Westminster, I turned onto Gage Street and Covered Bridge Road. It took a little digging, but I discovered that the road hasn’t had a covered bridge on it since 1967, when the Gageville/Grangers Covered Bridge was burned down. I then began a beautifully narrow, winding and wooded climb that ran alongside Interstate 91 and then popped out across a swampy likely former meander of the Connecticut River at Allen Brothers Farm. I took a right following the paved road up towards the I-91 onramp, but it soon became a nice dirt track that followed Morse Brook, lifting me up away from the river and into the hills which would dominate the rest of my day.

Eventually, I reached the top, which is located just after a somewhat nondescript woodshop of a company called Woodstone. It turns out that they make beautiful, high-end windows and doors using old fashioned tools and methods. On the way down, I knew there was a cheese producer that made delicious-looking sheep’s milk cheese. I’d added a little detour to the route, so I’d be notified about it on my descent, but I began to second guess if I’d actually added it. So when I saw the sign for Parish Hill Creamery, I threw on the brakes and pulled in. They had a small, self-serve farmstand which had a good variety of cheeses. I bought a wedge of “Jack’s Blue” and continued down. Much to my surprise, I soon came to the entrance for Vermont Shepard’s farmstand: the detour was in fact on the route and this road is just a cheese hotbed! Since I’d already bought some cheese, I decided I didn’t need to double down on the dairy and continued on, though it does look delicious and I hope to get my hands on some soon. I soon came to Westminster West Road, which would carry me north and into the eponymous settlement. I did some digging and couldn’t find a specific reason why it’s not called West Westminster, but I can only assume it’s a bit more poetic and easier to say Westminster West. Before getting into the village proper, I took a slight detour on Church Street, which has an extremely short unmaintained section. It lifted me up past some beautiful homes, then down to the Congregational Church and then the cute-as-a-button public library, where someone was unloading books and gave me a hearty hello. I continued north swinging by the former elementary school that now houses an “interactive, multi-disciplinary, art-and-theater-based program” for district students. 

My next detour was supposed to be onto South Goodard Road, but the entrance looked too much like a driveway, so I chickened out for some reason. Brad took that road from the north later in the day and said I missed out. So while I did miss that section, I didn’t miss out on North Goodard, which was a pleasant, pine-filled cruise down. My first steep climb arrived quickly as I turned onto Bemis Hill. It wasn’t too bad and I had the company of a stream, some beautiful homes and even an old overgrown graveyard. I couldn’t read many dates, but the oldest I saw was a death in 1829. The road was well maintained until we reached a section where it briefly enters Rockingham and then enters Athens. Luckily, it was downhill and I was able to ride much of it. I’d certainly not recommend trying it in the opposite direction. The town of Athens doesn’t have much in the way of a downtown. I stopped at the town offices and was able to refill bottles at the adjacent church, but beyond that, there’s not a whole lot. One of the biggest things to happen in town was a family being featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. But sadly (as often happens) a few years later, the family was struggling to keep up with the show’s hidden costs. I passed houses as I worked my way back south, some more madeover than others and soon turned left to begin my climb back up to the top of the ridge.

Reaching Old Country Road, I saw a sign that I hoped was a good omen: “No Snowmobiles or ATVs”. Ideally, this meant that the old road would be pleasant and not rutted out, but it could also mean an overgrown hellscape that’s barely ever used. Luckily though, it was more of the former. There were certainly some boggy bits and some dirt bike tracks (they found the loophole) but all in all it was a solid climb. It would appear that this is used somewhat frequently by mountain bikers, as there’s some single track to the south that shows up on Strava and the trial map. Once I reached the top and Old Athens Road, I hooked up with the Latham Trail, which would take me to the Pinnacle Cabin. The trail was rideable but the roots and rocks would have been more manageable with some suspension. About halfway to the cabin, I crossed paths with a couple pushing foldable, fat tired e-bikes. They seemed a bit out of their depths: the track suit-clad husband of which said something along the lines of “This trail looks a bit different than they’d described.” The wife didn’t really say anything. I hope they managed to enjoy their ride eventually. One neat thing about the ride was the proliferation of stone walls. It’s obvious evidence of how cleared these valleys used to be. Soon enough, I reached the cabin where Maddie had arrived on foot only about 30 minutes prior. What a view that place has! It’s a full 180 degrees to the west and there are barely any roads or buildings visible. I unpacked a bit and changed, relaxing in the blustery sun until Brad got there. We had a few hiking visitors come up, many of whom were excited for us to be staying there overnight. “The price is right,” I’d tell them: costing only $5 a person. The process is a bit funny to make a reservation. It involves making a phone call to Valerie, who I can only assume is a volunteer. I think they make it a bit convoluted on purpose to keep the riff-raff out. It seems to have a lot of availability, so I’d recommend giving them a ring! 

I should take a step back and talk a bit about the Windmill Hill Pinnacle Association. Founded in 1992, they’ve slowly worked to purchase and provide access to the over 2,725 acres of forest and 25.7 miles of trail they manage today. It’s truly a remarkable organization and the cabin is the crown jewel of the area. The cabin was originally built in 1967 and used to have running water and a kitchen. It could even be accessed via car and served as a summer retreat for the Farnsworth family. It was then bought and eventually transferred to the Association by the Littmans and it was renovated to its current state. It has a sleeping loft and a working fireplace! It really is something special and I can’t recommend it enough. We sat in the sun chatting and eventually made dinner inside as the golden glow of sunset shone through the three huge west-facing windows. We stayed up enjoying the fireplace and one another’s company before turning in. The next morning, the fog lay thick in the valleys and it was quite the sight to eat breakfast to. We greeted more early morning hikers and had a quick second breakfast of popcorn made in an old timey Jiffypop stovetop popper before packing up and beginning to pick our way down off the ridge.

Maddie began the journey down first, with Brad and I following behind soon after. The trail was wider and smoother than what I rode the day before, but it wasn’t all rideable. It may have been on an unloaded bike, and certainly would have been on a full-suspension mountain bike, but it was enjoyable. There were smooth sidewalk-like sections, a few interpretive signs and even a section that was like a wide-open grassy meadow but in amongst the trees! We overtook Maddie near the bottom and all rendezvoused at the car. Brad and I had already decided that since the car was right there, it would be silly to haul all our camping gear for the rest of the day. So we slimmed down our rigs and confirmed the plan with Maddie: she’d drive to the end of the route in Bellows Falls and begin to ride it backwards towards us and then turn around when we met and we’d all ride back together. Brad and I turned right onto the Class IV section of Windmill Hill Road and Maddie turned left to work her way north. The road was a great ride, turning to a smooth, quiet descent after a brief chunky beginning. We soon passed into Putney and caught up with a crew of 4 folks out on a ride. Then immediately as we were passing them, we saw another rider headed up Tavern Hill Road as we turned south. We all (sarcastically) agreed that the roads were getting way too crowded. After a quick drop down, Brad and I turned right to do a quick up and down on Cory Hill Road which had lovely views over a field to the east. I mentioned to Brad that I added this road to the route since it bordered a field and we went off on a sort tangent about how we plan routes and what we look for on maps when doing so. It’s always fun to hear others’ processes. 

We hooked up with Aiken Road and the lone cyclist we’d joked with before. We chatted a bit on the next climb and he’s from Keene New Hampshire, about 40 minutes away. It was a good reminder of how far south we were! We split soon after before Brad and I came to the Putney School. This small (about 225 students) private boarding and day school is well reviewed and has some diverse alumni (from singer/songwriter Sam Amidon to actor/admissions briber Felicity Huffman). It also has a small dairy farm at which a rotation of students work throughout the year. After passing by campus we had a classic cruise down Houghton Brook Road which was shady, smooth and followed a brook. We both decided that someone should map all of these kinds of descents in the state. I’d love to ride all of them. We had a quick punch up then down Signal Pine Road, then ended up in downtown Putney stopping at The Putney General Store. We each got a delicious breakfast sandwich (for third breakfast I guess) and I’d strongly recommend stopping by if you’re in the area, though Brad says the Co-op just down the road is solid as well. Across the street, crouched above a set series of falls in Sackets Brook sits the diminutive Soundview Paper Factory. They make napkins towels out of recycled paper and survived a fire earlier this year. We went past the factory crossing an historic stone bridge and onto one of the best named roads in the state: Hi-Lo Biddy. I’ll let the fine folks at Brave Little State explain the history of the name, but I unfortunately can’t share a photo of the sign: it was missing at the intersection with River Road!

As you could probably guess, River Road parallels the Connecticut River. Being paved, I’d thought it would be fairly busy, but it was quite quiet: nearby Route 5 takes non-local traffic where they’re going much faster. We passed beautiful barns, active farms and a beautiful culvert/bridge that carried the train tracks across East Putney Brook. I wasn’t fast enough to catch a photo and it’s actually just downstream from yet another historic stone bridge in Putney. Eventually we turned onto East Putney Falls Road where we began a short climb. We made our way back under I-91, passed a lovely looking hall that apparently hosts contra dances, crossed Route 5 and turned onto Old Stage Road to do our last Class IV section. It wasn’t too steep or technical, but it was just rocky and wet enough to make it not rideable for a short stretch. But it was a fun section. Soon we met up with Maddie (happy to have caught her on the north side of the Class IV…it’s not her type of riding). We had a fun cruise down Pine Banks, past “Fred’s Rock Shop” where we eventually began a climb up Piggery Road to the Kurn Hattin campus. The collection of small homes, dorms, academic and farm buildings have provided education and supported living for children “whose families are experiencing a period of need or instability” since 1894. They’re just coming to terms with apparent years of abuse, but hopefully the recent settlement will bookend a dark chapter and they can begin providing the much needed services to the children of the area.

We then dropped down into Westminster village, which seems to be much older than Westminster West. In fact the settlement is Vermont’s oldest existing town, having been “chartered in 1735 by the Province of Massachusetts Bay and was called New Taunton or Township Number One”. The main street is lined with many colonial-era buildings and many of them haven’t changed much over the years. A bit further north we passed what was labeled as The People’s Car Company, but what I think is John’s Car Corner. They had a TON of VW automobiles out front including at least 10 vans and just about as many Beetles! We continued on 5 until closing the loop from the day before, where Brad and I turned at Allen Brothers farm to do one last stretch of dirt, while Maddie took 5 back into town. The climb in this direction was steep, but we soon were heading down. I’d originally planned to hit up the Bald Hill Trails to get back, and I thought about doing it (even to the point of braking too hard by the turnoff and almost forcing Brad to rearend me). But ultimately, I wanted to see Twin Falls and I’d had enough single track for the day. So we continued on and met up with Maddie back in Bellows Falls. We managed to cram everything into the car and began driving our way back to Brad’s car. We needed lunch and decided to stop at Brownsville Butcher. It was delicious, plus it helped make up for my disappointment on Ride 17. The other momentous thing the completion of this ride means, is that there are only 9 towns and one ride left in this whole project! My hope is to just pick the best looking weekend day in October, invite anyone who’s done one of these rides with me and wrap this puppy up! Folks have asked if I’m going to celebrate in some way and while I’ll be happy with the accomplishment, it’s always been a silly, arbitrary goal, so I’m not wanting any pomp or circumstance. It will just be fun to see the rest of the towns and know I’ve seen the whole state’s worth!

The Details:

https://www.strava.com/activities/9862963647

https://www.strava.com/activities/9869359154

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3471809/dirt-251-westminster-athens-putney-day-1?fmid=cp

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3471812/dirt-251-westminster-athens-putney-day-2?fmid=cp

Ride 40: Dorset, Rupert, Sandgate, Arlington, Sunderland, Stratton, Somerset, Glastenbury, Searsburg, Wilmington, Whitingham, Dover, Wardsboro & Manchester

This ride had originally been designed as two separate loops. Once I’d made the routes, I realized it wouldn’t be too difficult to link them and the connecting thread would be an epic climb that’s part of the VTXL route. Plus, if I split it into three days, I could basecamp in the Green Mountain National Forest. I made that change at least a year ago and the new unified route had been sitting there as I checked off other towns, but I finally decided I needed to do it. To be honest I’m running low on options! So I talked to Maddie about whether or not she’d like to join me on this adventure (the camping part, not the biking…she’s not into the higher mileage stuff) and we booked a lean-to at Grout Pond over Labor Day weekend. Given the weather we’ve had I wasn’t optimistic, but as the date got closer, things were looking dry and warm. Everything was lining up and by the time Saturday morning rolled around, it looked to be perfect. We made the long drive south, stopping at the Middlebury Bagel from Ride 22 and then followed beautiful Route 30 to Dorset. The plan was for Maddie to drop me off, she’d then do her own thing while I rode and we’d rendezvous for lunch. We pulled into Church Street where I awkwardly did a towel change into my bike apparel between the Green and the swanky Dorset Inn. The town writ large seems to have a generous dusting of posh all over it. For example, the Dorset Field Club is the oldest continually operated golf course in the United States. It’s not all modern second homes and massive Gilded Age mansions (though there are plenty of those): I began the ride by passing a few active hay fields and possibly even some non-hobby farms. 

I soon entered Rupert and began the long climb up and down the full length of VT 315 towards the Merck Farm and Forest Center. This place is the real deal and they live their mission to “inspire curiosity, love and responsibility for natural and working lands”. It’s a gorgeous property and I highly recommend visiting or staying there. I had a good steep drop into the village of Rupert and the character changed a bit on the other side. Just as beautiful, but slower, quieter and just a bit more lived in, but in a good way. Much more my style. After a detour onto the D&H Rail Trail which I’d ridden five years prior, I stopped into Sherman’s Store in West Rupert. The sole employee was sitting at a table by the window chatting with a customer whose lovely dog greeted me. As I was rung up for my Gatorade, I was asked if there was some sort of race going on, as the woman at the counter and I had both just seen a large group of cyclists. Thanks to some Strava detective work, I’m pretty sure it was a group ride from the Long Island Bicycle Club. As I sat outside enjoying my drink, another customer on her way in dropped the classic line, “Gotta get a motor for that” on me which enlisted a chuckle and a “some days I wish I had one” from me. I went in to recycle the bottle she was buying a solitary gallon of milk and is clearly a regular. It was just a lovely scene.

Leaving Rupert’s valley, I began a steady climb alongside the White Creek into Kent Hollow and the town of Sandgate. This town continued the trend of getting more rural and rough: it consists of mainly remote homes tucked into multiple steep valleys. Just one valley over in Beartown (AKA “The Spider”) there are at least six named Hollows: Frost, Corbet, Kate, Moffitt, Wilcox and Hamilton, all presumably named after the early European settlers. I chugged along, looping around an isolated cluster of hills before heading southwest and soon tipping downhill. After reaching West Sandgate Road and was faced with the steep Class IV punch of Tate Hill Road. I actually passed two vehicles on that section: one truck towing an ATV who fit right in and an SUV that potentially took a wrong turn and was wrapping up a harrowing detour. The road remained in good shape as I came back down and I popped out in classic Class IV fashion next to a beautiful old farmhouse that I’m betting is only occupied for part of the year. The road, now called Chunks Brook Road took me down and actually briefly into New York. After ticking off the Empire State, I’d completed my side quests across all four Vermont borders (I didn’t count the few feet of the Crown Point Bridge on Ride 22, since I didn’t touch New York soil). 

I was now on Route 313 alongside the Batten Kill. From both the flow (towards the Hudson) and the name (“Kill” from the Dutch meaning riverbed) the river showed how close I was to “Nieuw Nederland”. After passing back into the warm embrace of the Green Mountain State, I followed River Road. The Batten Kill is a popular river to both fish and float and there were plenty of folks out doing the latter. I biked upstream and before long saw someone doing some plein air painting in West Arlington which shouldn’t have come as a surprise since it’s a gorgeous valley and also served as Norman Rockwell’s home from 1939-1953. Rockwell of course didn’t do many landscapes and as far as I know worked almost exclusively in his studio, but having grown up only ten minutes away from his home from 1953 until his death in 1978, I have a special connection and affinity for him. My mom even worked in the original Rockwell Museum on Main Street in Stockbridge for a time. Rockwell’s Arlington home is now an inn which got new ownership a few years ago and is part of an effort to revitalize Arlington. I made a brief detour to the Arlington Covered Bridge which was mobbed with visitors, including a family who had set up a tripod right in the middle of the bridge deck to get a video selfie of them walking through. They seemed a bit miffed at me, apparently forgetting that they were standing in the middle of an active road. I pressed on, passing many cyclists and folks out enjoying the beautiful weather. I eventually reconnected with Route 313 and crossed Route 7A in Arlington proper. Maddie and I had decided to meet at a place called Bonnie and Clyde’s and it was closing soon, so I pushed hard, making it just as they were pulling in the open sign, with Maddie arriving soon after, just in time.

After a quick lunch of chicken salad on greens, Maddie and I again split. She’d enjoyed some tag sales earlier and planned to poke around a few more. It was good to be back in the land of “Tag Sales” by the way, not garage, yard or other types of sales. I however had a long, long climb ahead of me. Starting back in Arlington Village the climb stretches almost 11 miles and climbs 2143 feet with an average grade of 3.6%. It’s not steep, it’s just relentless. Luckily, it’s an absolutely gorgeous area and a quiet road. So I saddled up and began to climb the legendary Kelley Stand Road. The road is named after a hotel run by William Kelley (“Stand” being an old-timey term of a place of lodging). There used to be multiple large logging operations to support the 18 mills along the Roaring Branch. The area had a reputation for wildness, but also patriotic and high minded pursuits. In fact, Daniel Webster made a famous speech at the hotel to 15,000 people in 1840. These days, the trees have regrown and there’s barely anything left of the mills, hotels and other developments: just a small plaque on a rock and a long, grinding climb. I don’t mean to make it sound miserable and while it was tough and monotonous, the steep valley walls and constant companionship of the Roaring Branch made it all worth it. Once I finally reached the top and was solidly in both Sunderland and the National Forest, I had a fun drop down across the Long/Appalachian Trail. I then pushed up towards Grout Pond. It was named after Hudson Grout who had previously lived there, though when the name appeared in the popular Beers Atlas in 1869, he’d already moved. But the Atlas was so popular that the other local names like Stratton Pond, Holman Pond, Carter Pond and Dr. Harvey’s Pond faded away. I pulled into the Grout Pond recreation area and arrived at the car just as Maddie was preparing to bring a second load of gear to our lean-to site. There are some more easily accessible sites on the near side of the pond, but we’d booked one on the further side accessible by boat or a roughly .5 mile walk. Bikes aren’t allowed on the trails, so locked mine up to the car, quickly changed and helped her carry the rest of what we needed to camp. We cooked up some delicious sausage, onions, kale and tomatoes for dinner, played a quick round of Blisters and turned in.

The next morning we had a lovely breakfast of egg sandwiches (shout out to our neighbors Birch Hill english muffins) but I didn’t linger long, since I knew this would be the “crux” of the trip. It was long and had more than a few unknown trails and Class IV sections. So I packed quickly and said goodbye to Maddie with a plan to meet in Wilmington for lunch. I headed back west before turning south onto FR 71. There was a slight climb and I soon caught up with a couple who had also been camping at Grout and were bike touring their way on a loop which would eventually bring them back to Jamaica State Park. We chatted for a bit as we finished the climb and they’re from Hudson MA, about 45 minutes outside of Boston. They were very nice and one of them was wearing a sweet dress with mushrooms all over it. Lots of style points for that! I soon entered Somerset, an unincorporated town which is probably best known for the reservoir with which it shares its name which was created by the first of a series of ten dams along the Deerfield River as it runs into Massachusetts. There was some sad notoriety for Somerset however: just a few days after I rode through, a Massachusetts man died after a tree fell into his campsite during stormy weather. Just shows you never know when an accident could happen. I turned onto FR 83 to enter Glastenbury, another unincorporated town, but one with a much spookier reputation. The town is very remote and has barely any population (9), though it does have some street view coverage! Its far western edge is also host to a short residential road and a few miles of Super 7. I, however, was on the opposite side and was trying not to think about the multiple people who have apparently disappeared in the town over the years. The town is part of the Bennington Triangle, a mini version of the more famous Bermuda zone. In keeping with local superstition, I wasn’t wearing red and was ready for a good exploration. I wasn’t too worried about the passibility of the roads, since the stretch is part of the Roundabout Brattleboro bikepacking loop, made by the venerable Joe Cruz. In fact, I passed three separate groups who (I’d have to assume for two of them) were doing the loop. The timing matched up that they’d be there at that time of day on day two of the three day route. The roads were a good mix of overgrown doubletrack and mucky swampy bits that required some hopping around and riding through deep water. I was pleased to reach Vermont’s own version of the Magic Bus (though ours isn’t as dangerous as the other one was). It does have plenty of shotgun holes, cans and other crap from people over the years. It wasn’t very spooky, though the sunshine and nice temps probably helped.

From there, I had a nice long cruise back into Somerset and eventually to Route 9. I entered Searsburg and made my way to the tiny settlement of Medburyville (“Pop 39? Pets 35?”, according the the sign) known for an historic steel Warren truss bridge built in 1896. I was continuing to follow the reverse of the “Roundabout” route and planned to head south along the Catamount Trail corridor despite some rumors and others’ experience that it had been logged recently and was possibly closed. I’d checked with one of the groups headed north and they said it was passable, so I went for it. It was an old railbed and the first section was really nice. There were a few mucky bits in some cuts that had been made through the bedrock, but relatively smooth sailing. I actually came upon a sign referring to an outdoor art tour which unfortunately had been over for some time. They must have forgotten this one. I came upon some slash and other logging detritus but pushed through to reach the smoother trail on the other side. I continued to follow the Harriman Reservoir and got funny peeks out to see power boats pulling water skiers and was even tempted to scare some anglers who had anchored only a few yards from shore, but I resisted the urge. I eventually reached the dam and looped around to eventually connect with Route 100 and enter the village of Whitingham.

Whitingham is tucked along the Massachusetts border. Its village of Jacksonville houses most of the town’s businesses, but I didn’t make it that far east. I did, however, come within a mile or so of the birthplace of Brigham Young, the Mormon leader and second President of the LDS Church. Interestly, not only was Joseph Smith (the founder of Mormonism and its first President) born in Sharon, but it turns out that 5 of the 12 members of the Quorum of the Twelve, an early group of church leaders, were also born in the Green Mountain State! I needed water and stopped in at Whitingham Antiques and Collectibles which the internet believes is closed, but lucky for me, was very much open. The entrance and lobby of the building is shared with the Post Office and the store is a pleasant mishmash of collectibles, antiques and rustic/farmhouse decor items. There were two women in there chatting and we had a nice brief conversation. When I went into their bathroom to refill my bottles, I realized how grimy my gear and I were compared to their spotless sink. I hope I wasn’t too smelly to boot! I thanked them and moved on traveling north. In yet another twist of fate brought on by my after-the-fact research, I discovered that at the same time I was biking through, State Police were on the other side of town searching for clues and arresting a man for a double homicide. One last interesting sidenote to this sidenote:  it was the disappearance of Paula Jean Weldon (one of the people who was lost in the Bennington Triangle) that helped spur the creation of the Vermont State Police

I wasn’t thinking about all the spooky stuff as I continued on, but I was slightly nervous for another reason, I had what turned out to be three Class IV sections to navigate. The first was East Road which is described as a “Creekbed” in the Strava segment. Amazingly there was a convoy of about 6 cars with Massachusetts plates coming down the steep, rocky road. I can only assume it was an extended family and two of the drivers asked for directions to a picnic area. Luckily, they made it through and I hope I steered them in the right direction. The next was Boyd Lane onto Green Road as I crossed into Wilmington. Google street view let me know I’d end up essentially in someone’s yard, but it was a legal road, so I went for it. The entry was a bit funny, as there are a few driveways and roads that all come together, but I made a beeline over a boutique covered bridge, past a pond and a graveyard full of “Boyd” graves, up a steep climb that I needed to walk some of. I scurried though the aforementioned yard and zipped down to Riley Boyd Road, the last Class IV. Street view again helped with the beta, and this was another steep hike-a-bike section, but it was beautiful. I had a long dip down towards the reservoir almost reaching a semi-famous nude beach and one more climb up a plain old Class 3 road with a gorgeous view to the south. I zipped quickly to reach Maddie at Dot’s who’d been patiently telling the waitstaff I’d be there soon. Wilmington in general and Dot’s in particular were really slammed by Irene in 2011, but rebuilt thanks to a huge community outpouring. I practically inhaled a delicious chicken sandwich and enjoyed catching up with Maddie. From the quick view I saw, I really enjoyed the charm of Wilmington. It seems like most of the cars in town had a bike or kayak on top. I definitely need to come back. But given my route, I knew I needed to continue on.

Back on Route 9, I begin to climb out of town, soon taking a left onto Baliou Hill Road. Towards the top of the hill, I passed a few small cabins in a field with a sign that said, “Camp Najerog Est. 1924”. Again, like has happened so many times on this trip, I wondered to myself if it was still an active camp. After getting home and doing some googling, I was horrified to find that the camp was the site of some terrible child sexual abuse in the 50s and 60s. USA Today did an in-depth article on the topic that came out last year. These days the camp property seems to have been split up and there’s a Hipcamp listing still using the name, but it goes to show you never know the history of a place until you do a little digging. I continued around Lake Raponda heading north, passing a ton of swimmers filling the town beach. I turned east again, dipping briefly into Marlboro where I passed a “Free Leonard Peltier” sign. I’d never heard of the Indigenous leader and activist, but his cause seems very worthy. I then dipped down into Dover and an area the maps say is called Goose City. I was excited to get a photo of the “fowl” name, since I have a number of friends who are big fans of Goose (the band). But I never saw any signs with the supposed name and found very little information online! The only semi-solid lead on the name is a claim that a farmer used to raise geese to make featherbeds. Whatever the true history, it certainly was steep. Climbing out of the small hollow on Locust Heights was the first of a few very punchy rollers. I was rewarded with great views, but it was tough, fully out of the saddle, dig deep, kind of climbing. I passed through two seasonal roads, the second of which (Potter Road) was signed as closed but it was 100% rideable and ATV-able as well. I passed Podunk Road, and later learned that the term “Podunk” has some intriguing history. I soon reached the West Wardsboro Store where (after saying hi to the resident alpacas) I refueled before beginning the long, paved climb back up to Grout Pond. The climb was a bit monotonous, but I had a great episode of Radiolab keeping me distracted. Eventually, I got back to camp where there was still just enough light to take a dip, make a delicious gnocchi dinner and relax with Maddie.

The next day was to be the easiest of the three: only 31 miles and about 2,000 feet of climbing. Plus I got to start the day with a HUGE descent. So Maddie and I packed up and I was quickly on my way west on Kelley Stand Road. I had a short kicker to get up before the long coast down and towards the top I managed to catch up to another rider. Unlike the folks from Massachusetts the day prior, this guy was from New Hampshire and doing the VTXL route, south-bound. His name is Erik Nelson and he did the full route in three days! That’s slower than when Ted King rode it non-stop in less than 23 hours but for context, the route is described as taking 4-6 days normally. Anyway, he’s a really nice guy, we got to chatting and it turns out his dad used to be president of the board of the 251 Club! He didn’t mention the name, but it must be the same Drew Nelson mentioned in this article. How funny is that!? We rode together down the sweeping curves of Kalley Stand and parted ways at Kansas Road. He turned south to take in the beautiful roads of Shaftsbury, Bennington and Pownal, while I turned north to work my way towards Manchester. To my left was the ridge that contains the imposing Equinox Mountain, which creates the west side of the valley and serves as a cultural barrier as well. Like I mentioned before, the Rupert and Sandgate side is much more rural and less hoity-toity and to make the divide stranger, on the ridge there is not only a cars-only toll road leading to the summit of the mountain, but also a monastery called Charterhouse of the Transfiguration which houses an order on monks called The Carthusians who commit to silence and solitude. 

I continued north following River Road. I’d planned to take a detour up into the property of Hildene, the historic Lincoln Family Home, built by Robert Todd Lincoln and his wife Mary. It’s now a classic historic home museum: it’s beautifully preserved and maybe seems to be a bit stuffy, but they’re doing some neat stuff as well. I was hoping I could access one of the many trails that crisscross the property and some faint blue on the Strava heatmap gave me hope I could (plus there’s even a Strava segment!). However, when I reached the trail, I was denied by an emphatic sign: not only were bikes not allowed on the trail, non-guests weren’t either. Spruned, I continued north, passing some truly stunning, but frankly ostentatious homes. I then entered Manchester Village with its marble sidewalks, sprawling Equinox Resort and other historic buildings passing me by. I then zipped past the Orvis Flagship Store (the corporate offices are back by the bottom of Kelley Stand) and closed in on the heart of Manchester Center. Maddie and I had timed it well, so we met up outside of one of our favorite bookstores (Northshire) and made our way to go get lunch.

Since it was Labor Day, we were worried things may be closed, but we soon found Roadrunner, a trendy little spot that just opened this year. We each got a “Lunchbox” and they were delicious. The place had a funky vibe with fun tchotchkes and little “Roadrunner” themed touches, though there were no Jonathan Richman records, which I was disappointed by. (Side note: make it the state rock song of the Commonwealth already!) After a lovely meal, Maddie and I split again, with the plan to meet in Dorset. At this point I’d reached every town, but I really wanted to complete the loop. So I headed north while she did a bit more poking around Manchester. My next few miles were on a series of recreation paths that wound around soccer fields and eventually to Pig Pen Road. The paths actually continue north, but I wanted to get across Route 30 to hit up a small Class IV section called Pat Kelley Road. It ended up being in great shape, especially the first few hundred yards, since they’re used for sugaring. I then popped out onto East Road, taking 3 Maple Drive north. Again, there were some amazingly swanky homes in this area: from hobby farms to micro estates and sprawling compounds. The properties all butt up to the ridge, much of which is preserved by the Nature Conservancy. There is also a road called Beartown Road that appears to connect over to Sandgate. I’d love to come back and explore that some day. 

After a steep drop, I hooked up with Dorset West Road and soon passed a large stone monument with two metal plaques. Erected by the “Vermont Society of Colonial Dames”, it recognizes the site of the First Convention of the New Hampshire Grants. Despite the somewhat funny sounding name, the “Dames” are still active and have some good perspective on the “complex issues surrounding privilege, exclusivity, and relevance of their society in today’s world”. I continued on, making a quick detour to a tag sale, but didn’t find anything too amazing, except some fun bumper stickers (see the photo below). With the temperature rising, I decided I didn’t need to 100% close the loop and instead of meeting Maddie on the Dorset Green I’d meet her at the Dorset Quarry. Once the country’s oldest commercial marble quarry, it has long been a nationally recognized swimming hole. It’s been privately owned for years and while the former owners allowed swimming, there was always a tension with folks not respecting the space. However, under new ownership, there’s an online waiver to sign, the adjacent lot has been fixed up and there is now a fee to park (but it’s free if you bike in!). I very happily jumped in and enjoyed the cool water and people watching. It’s really quite a magical place, though the periodically shouted peer pressure gave it just a tinge of toxic masculinity. However, don’t let that steer you away. It’s certainly worth a visit. Maddie came by after I began to dry off, we packed up and began the beautiful drive north on Route 30. This really was a fantastic route and a fun way to do a multi-day bike trip. I only have two routes left to ride and the next one is coming right up. If all goes to plan I’ll have this whole Dirt 251 thing wrapped before the snow flies!

The Details:

https://www.strava.com/activities/9783683644

https://www.strava.com/activities/9783685723

https://www.strava.com/activities/9783682588

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3463270/dirt-251-dorset-rupert-sandgate-arlington-sunderland-stratton-somerset-glastenbury-searsburg-wilmington-whitingham-dover-wardsboro-manchester-day-1?fmid=cp

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3463272/dirt-251-dorset-rupert-sandgate-arlington-sunderland-stratton-somerset-glastenbury-searsburg-wilmington-whitingham-dover-wardsboro-manchester-day-2?fmid=cp

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3463275/dirt-251-dorset-rupert-sandgate-arlington-sunderland-stratton-somerset-glastenbury-searsburg-wilmington-whitingham-dover-wardsboro-manchester-day-3?fmid=cp

Ride 39: Underhill, Cambridge & Fletcher

There was a much shorter gap between rides 38 and 39 compared to the previous two. Plus the commute was a lot shorter too. These towns and roads and some I’ve ridden a number of times during the course of this project, and constitute some of my favorite local areas to ride. When explaining the concept of what I’m doing to folks, one of the minor bits of pushback I get commonly comes around this point. “But you’ve ridden in those towns!” people will say. But as my “Rules” point out, I need to have intended for a ride to count towards the whole Dirt 251 thing for it to officially tick off the towns. So even though I’d ridden in Underhill, Cambridge and Fletcher many times before, I decided that this weekend was the time I’d make it 251 official!

Along on this ride was Brad, my most stalwart riding partner. Not only is he a very reliable “yes” when asked to join, I told him that this route included Kruse Block (more on that later) and because it would be my first time riding Kruse he made me promise that I wouldn’t ride it without him. It’s a favorite zone of his and we wanted to be the one to show me. So we met up on a sunny Sunday morning at Saint Thomas Church in Underhill Center. We were sure to park on the far corner of the lot, as there were services starting soon, though I don’t think the pews and parking spots fill fully, or at least that’s what recent trends would have me believe. We were packed up quickly and were soon rolling out towards the imposing figure of Mount Mansfield. Underhill has a few different sections and many more amazing roads, many of which I needed to skip for this route: From Mountain Road to Stevensville and from Cilly Hill to Poker Hill there are just too many to squeeze in. But we pedaled east passing the beautiful Tomasi Meadow and Casey’s Hill properties which have had their views preserved forever. We then passed the entrance to Underhill State Park before working our way up beside the Proctor Maple Research Center before finally turning off onto Corbett Road. 

From here there is an easy entrance into the Henrik Kruse block of Mount Mansfield State Forest, the 39,837 acre parcel which spans the state’s highest peak and some of its most stunning and sensitive environments. According to the management plan, “For management purposes, the forest is divided into smaller units called blocks, usually determined by natural features. Mt. Mansfield State Forest consists of 12 blocks.” This particular block has a double track road leading up to a clearing from which a trail leads back down to Corbett Road, making a nice, steep loop. Brad and I gritted our teeth and began the slow slog up the climb. Having recently finally caught Covid, I was a bit slower than I’d like to have been, but I made it to the top, stopping only once on the steepest bit, just to take a photo (I swear). We enjoyed a unique angle of Mansfield and then the single track down was a fun, not-technical descent. We then took a small connecting trail over to Deane Road. The top of this road is actually where Brad and his now wife Krysten got married five years ago and I biked up Deane Road to get to their rehearsal. It was one of the more radical things I’d done on a bike up to then. Heading down Deane was much more pleasant than the climb those years ago on a steel touring bike and we popped out across Pleasant Valley Road and onto a Brewster River Mountain Bike Club trail. The bulk of the club’s trails are in this area and Brad normally isn’t one for single track, but since I planned the route and I decided to use that privilege to force him onto some. It was amazingly pretty dry and as far as I could tell hadn’t been ridden as part of the Tour de Valley, BRMC’s big annual fundraiser which had happened the day before (when it was in the 50s and raining. Yuck.) We popped out by Valley Dream Farm and continued on Upper Pleasant Valley Road, which included a lovely dirt section for some odd reason. Maybe it got damaged recently by the rains? We then turned onto Bryce Road and enjoyed some of the best views of the aforementioned valley and back up to Mansfield. It’s one of my favorite roads in the area: for the views and for the drop down into Cambridge, where we’d soon be.

During the recent flooding, Cambridge was hit quite hard. The waters have receded and most of the piles of sodden belongings have been taken away, but there seems to be a lingering sense of vulnerability and loss. Sure the Lamoille River that typically meanders a few hundred yards away has flooded in the past, but this was different and has left some invisible, though indelible scars. On this day, the sun was shining and we stopped into a typical scene at the Cambridge Village Market which has served the community’s food needs for over 150 years! They were kind enough to let us refill our water bottles behind the deli counter and we continued east on Route 15 over the “Wrong Way Bridge”. As you cross, the bridge curves to the left (towards Fletcher), even though the road continues to the right (towards Jeffersonville). I’d always heard a rumor that the official in charge of the construction lived in Saint Albans, which sits north of Fletcher, so he favored an easier left hand turn. The real story is, of course, much more complicated and interesting. We had to navigate our left turn onto Pumpkin Harbor Road without a left turn lane, but did so with relative ease. We followed the Lamoille’s north side for a bit, getting views of ruined feed corn and Mount Mansfield beyond. We eventually crossed into Fletcher, passing the school, town offices and General Store. Brad shared a quick story about the store cat named Mystery and how the entire front porch is his domain with most surfaces covered in his fur. 

We enjoyed the rolling hills before reaching North Road which heads up into the steeper, more forested parts of town. Before making the turn though, I was saddened to see that the Vermont license plate house that had stood at the corner of North and Fairfield Roads had been demolished. All that was left was a pile of rubble. No sign of what happened to the metallic, state-issued siding. As often happens with these rides, it was because I write these posts that I dove a bit deeper into the history and thanks to the stalwart Chad Abramovich, I learned a whole lot more about the house, its history and why it was the way it was. If you’re not normally a link clicker in these posts, I’d strongly encourage you to click that one. The sun was shining strongly now as we pedaled up North Road. We passed a few Highland cattle that gave us a stare through their thick bangs. We stopped briefly in the shade of an enormous oak tree before we reached Metcalf Pond Road which took us down to its namesake, a beautiful pond tucked into some hills with a light sprinkling of camps surrounding it. We continued to cruise down the gentle rollers eventually making our way onto the Lamoille Valley Rail Trail. Governor Scott had planned to ride the full length of the trail to celebrate its completion, but had to delay the ride, due to the flooding. Much of the trail was damaged, but about half has now reopened. Luckily for us, that included the stretch that parallels VT 108 which was riding smoothly. We passed an old double-decker bus labeled “Riverside” which you can see from Route 109. I’d always assumed it was from the amusement park near where I grew up that used to be known as Riverside (now Six Flags New England). Again, I did a little detective work and sure enough (thanks to a Reddit post), I found a photo of a similar bus if not the very same one from the park! We hooked up with the small trail spur that runs into Jeffersonville and headed into town, past the Burger Barn (I definitely recommend the Ethan Allen) to get to The Cupboard.

One of my favorite pre, mid and post activity stops, The Cupboard is a store that has its identity dialed and is fully embracing who they are. Every morning they have an amazing array of donuts. They often sell out quickly, especially during ski season, so it’s extra motivation beyond fresh snow to get up early. Plus, they have an incredible array of pre-made sandwiches, most of which are wraps that they can quickly microwave (in the plastic bag I might add) and can provide sustenance to many a weary recreationalist. Smugglers’ Notch ski area is right up 108 and we also pass this way coming to and from Green River Reservoir canoe trips, so I’ve been in many, many times. I typically get the basil chicken, which is heated in the oven, but I wanted the full Cupboard experience, so I got a buffalo chicken wrap (zapped up of course) and was not disappointed. Brad and I sat at some picnic tables in the back enjoying our lunch before heading out. As we were about to pull away from the parking lot I saw an old record on the side of the road. It turns out to have been “The Restless Gun” by Sons of the Pioneers which apparently came out in 1957. Having no place to carry it, I left it for someone else to grab, though it was admittedly very much not playable. We turned into the heart of Jeffersonville which is a village of Cambridge, but certainly has a bigger downtown and it includes the great shop Bootlegger Bikes as well as a few other lovely businesses. We didn’t linger, but instead headed up 108 turning to cross the Grist Mill covered bridge which spans the Brewster River. The road pitched up a bit and the views opened up as we turned onto West Farm Road. The whole area (a 634 acre parcel) is known as the Brewster Uplands and has been conserved by the Vermont Land Trust. The views south to Sterling Ridge and Mount Mansfield were great despite the growing haze. As we continued past the farm and onto the Class IV section of road, I reminisced with Brad about how he had led a group run along this stretch before his wedding (and before he’d discovered gravel cycling). 

We crossed back over the Brewster River at a sneaky good swimming hole and had a quick, punchy climb on Stebbins Road to eventually connect with a class 3.5 section called Thompson Road. The downhill here is just so pleasant. There are barely ever cars, the road is nicely narrow, but also smooth. It’s a favorite. We got even more fun angles of Mansfield before looping back to Valley Dream Farm to begin our long climb up Irish Settlement Road. The name comes from the conglomeration of Irish immigrants who moved to the Pleasant Valley area starting with John and Felix Doon who came from County Armagh in 1823. According to Pre-Famine Irish in Vermont, 1815–1844 By Vincent Edward Feeney “By 1840 about 9 percent of Underhill’s 1,441 residents were Irish” and the majority were in that area. Interestingly and backwards from the “old country”, there is an English Settlement Road in town, just to the EAST as well. I had initially planned to have us take Fuller Road which becomes a Class IV track through some swampy areas and connects through to the town garage. But the prospect of mud and stream-fording wasn’t desirable at that point in the ride. Plus the land owner on the north end of the road is a notorious curmudgeon, posting pissy No Trespassing signs along the road and even going to the Vermont Supreme Court to appeal a town reclassification of a section of road as a “Legal Trail”. He and another adjacent landowner felt like they lost access to their property. If you want to really get into the weeds about it, here’s the court’s decision. We chose to avoid that whole mishegas and stick to Irish Settlement. Eventually we got the steep ride down to River Road, where we quickly came to the end. Speaking of which, I’m only three rides away from the end of this whole project. I’m excited to complete this journey and have two overnight routes booked for a couple weekends this September, then a point to point on a choice October day, then I’m done. Wild!

The Details:

https://www.strava.com/activities/9687998865

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3434892/dirt-251-underhill-cambridge-fletcher?fmid=cp

Ride 38: Brighton, Lewis, Avery’s Gore, Warren Gore, Warner’s Grant, Norton, Averill, Cannan, Lemington, Bloomfield, Brunswick, Maidstone & Ferdinand

Dirt 251 took a while to be revived in 2023 for a few unfortunate reasons. Firstly, I tore my quadricep tendon in January. I did it playing indoor soccer, and while the surgery happened much faster than with my ACL almost exactly 10 years prior, it meant that I would still be out of commission for months. So skiing was done and I couldn’t get on a bike outdoors until mid-May. I slowly regained strength only to have this summer come with a one-two punch of wildfire smoke and historic flooding. It frankly felt quite scary and was a stark reality of our new climate reality (not to mention made for poor dirt road riding conditions). So I helped where I could and waited yet some more. 

Like many others, I’ve continued to enjoy more local gravel rides with friends and the occasional Bike Gang. Yet, having only 5 of my Dirt 251 routes to ride and choose from made it a bit more challenging to get to them. Plus, I’ve committed to riding a few with particular people, so schedules need to line up too. However, last week, the weather was looking good (i.e. two consecutive days without rain) and my extreme Northeast Kingdom route was one I could do solo, so I took a Monday off work and packed up for an overnighter and my first 251 ride in close to 300 days!

This route was one I’ve been tweaking and fretting over for a long time. It looms so large in my head because not only is the area it passes through quite remote, the patchwork of land ownership in that part of the state is a confusing mess. Even with resources like the state Parcel Viewer and E-911 Map, it’s tough to tell what’s passable and what’s not. I partially relied on the VTXL and Vermont Super-8 routes I’ve referenced in the past, but they don’t go everywhere I need to town-wise. One thing I did do which has been helpful is join the Vermont Bikepackers VMBA Chapter. This gave me access to a ton of knowledgeable people that were able to help pass along some beta on the route. Having done a short overnight earlier in the year, I wasn’t too worried about my gear (including a new bivy I bought used OGE). But I kept checking and rechecking the route. Eventually, I had to just accept that the point of an adventure is not fully knowing what to expect, so I went to sleep Saturday night ready for whatever came. 

It started in Island Pond, a village of Brighton, the most populous town in Essex County, tucked deep into the Northeast Kingdom and almost two hours from home. In many ways, this region has its own flavor but what I mainly knew about Island Pond came from a controversial raid: in 1984 state police swept up 112 children who were part of the Northeast Kingdom Community Church amid accusations of abuse. It was on the front page of the New York Times and has had ripple effects through to this day. These days, the downtown is a bit sleepy and serves as a crossroads for many types of recreation: in the paddling season, it’s a stop along the Northern Forest Canoe Trail and in winter, the place really shines: they claim to be the “Snowmobile Capital of Vermont”. 

I parked adjacent to the eponymous pond, hearing a loon in the distance. It was a pretty quick process to get packed up and I was on my way onto Route 105 then soon onto the dirt roads north into the heart of the Kingdom Heritage Lands. I touched on this unique owner/management patchwork during Ride 31, but I’d be working my way through and around the bulk of these parcels on this ride. To learn more about the history and details of these lands, check out these fantastic articles from Northern Woodlands Magazine. I was now traversing Weyerhaeuser-owned timberlands. This company has over $10 Billion in annual revenue and owns over 12.4 million acres of forest in the US alone. It was clear this area was used for timber production, but the cuts weren’t too massive and the roads were in great shape. 

Soon I entered the town of Lewis (population zero) and the road pitched up slightly and slowly began to lose quality. A man in a pickup was doing some basic repairs to what was essentially some logs laid into a stream to create a ford. Folks explore these roads in the summer, but it’s much better suited to winter travel. He was a member of the local snowmobile club and wanted to stay ahead of maintenance so the trails would be ready for the season. He warned me I may get a bit wet higher up on the ridge, but I pressed on after a brief chat. He was correct: the mud arrived soon after. There was a lot of pushing of the bike and more than a few moments of soaking shoes, but they were never fully subsumed by the muck. By this point I was in Avery’s Gore, which at 17.6 sq. miles is the largest gore in the state. As I talked about when going through Buel’s Gore on Ride 26, gores are unincorporated parcels that were “left over when surveyors plotted boundary lines between neighboring towns but couldn’t quite make them meet.” I made my way up to Unknown Pond, which has reportedly the sole structure in Avery’s Gore built next to it: a hunting camp. The Green Mountain Club maintains some hiking trails that cross through the area and soon after the saddle where the pond and trails sit, I reached Warren Gore and began heading down through a massive sugarbush owned by Sweet Tree Holdings. More on them later. For now, I was just happy to not have to pedal or push my bike and I was soon down on Route 114.

Having heaved and bumped my way up and down some rough tracks, the prospect of a mile or so on smooth pavement sounded pretty good. Soon enough though, I took a left onto Hurricane Brook Road in order to pop out and nip Warner’s Grant. Grants are similar to Gores in that they’re unincorporated territory, but while our neighbor New Hampshire has 8 Grants, Vermont only has one. I wasn’t precisely sure what type of path to expect and after dipping under a gate, the double track quickly became waist-high grass covering a VAST trail. Unable to ride, I pushed through and thankfully came to a sign indicating I’d crossed the boundary into the Grant. The sign and the map border aren’t in perfect agreement, but I feel like I just made it about 20 or so yards in and it will definitely be the shortest distance traveled in a municipality during this project.

I turned around and continued on Hurricane Brook to try and skirt Norton Pond into Norton proper. This leg was one I wasn’t so sure of: the roads appeared to possibly be private, but I was stymied by a different road block. A literal one: the road had been washed away in the recent rains. (Side note: there are some campsites and tracks to the north in the Bill Sladyk Wildlife Management Area that might be worth coming back to explore.) Now definitively blocked, I returned to 114 and followed the pavement on the south side of Norton Pond until I came to another gate and more Sweet Tree Holdings land which held a service road that would take me up to a power line maintenance road and the VTXL route. Sweet Tree are an enormous sugaring operation by Vermont and even national standards. They’re the largest single-source maple operation in the world. To put their scale in perspective, the average Vermont producer makes about 1200 gallons of syrup a season, while Sweet Tree can make 6000 gallons AN HOUR!  In 2013, they made a splash when (with the backing of a Connecticut hedge fund) they arrived on the scene which had smaller producers worried about it signaling a shift in the market and feared this may foretell something similar to what’s happened in the Vermont dairy industry. So far the smaller-scale producers have been fine and I was just glad I could ride through their sugarbush. I saw plenty of sap lines on my way up, as well as tanks and generators at collecting stations. I even saw a Tim Hortons wrapper at one, showing that at least one of the over 100 year-round employees probably comes down from Quebec. Resting after my climb, I heard the telltale buzzing from the high voltage power lines above. Luckily, I had a nice descent ahead of me, down to the Lake View Store, where I was able to pet their cute store dog, buy a few things, refill my bottles and eat lunch.

I continued onto some pleasant dirt roads having crossed into Averill, yet another unincorporated town. As such, they have no local governance and are instead managed by a three person Board of Governors which is elected collectively by the residents of the unincorporated towns and gores of Essex County. They in turn appoint a Supervisor who essentially performs all the duties of elected officials in all the municipalities. It can lead to some interesting elections and if you really want to get into the weeds of it, here’s the state statute. A bit of dirt road monotony was broken up by seeing a runner in the distance. I’d barely seen cars let along someone else using their bodies to move, so this piqued my interest. Getting closer, I saw he was bearded and wore a pack, like he’s a long-distance runner (even rarer). As I got closer still I thought, “That looks like Andy”. And, as it turn out it WAS Andy, a neighbor and colleague on the Mobbs Committee in Jericho! He was on vacation and was ticking off a few towns for HIS project of RUNNING once in every town. I couldn’t believe it and neither could he: I actually had to say “Andy, it’s SAM!”. We chatted a bit and just couldn’t believe the odds!

I continued taking on the ups and downs of this area. I entered Canaan, the extreme northeast corner of the state. I didn’t get into the village, let alone Beecher Falls, its micro-panhandle, but it was satisfying to know I had checked off that corner. Only once did I need to hike-a-bike, and soon I was closing in on another section of the route I wasn’t so sure of. There are some VAST trails on land that privately owned, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t be posted, so I could skirt around the west side of Monadnock Mountain. I made a steep climb on Todd Hill Road, only to be met with a posted gate on my intended route. Dejected, I decided to turn around and take the long paved route around the mountain, but most frustratingly, once I returned home I saw on a map that there was another potential entrance on someone else’s property, just a few hundred yards from where I’d made my u-turn! I may never get back there, but if you’re considering riding this, try going just a bit further and you may be able to connect through to Sims Hill Road on unposted tracks. 

Having to detour was a bit frustrating, but I at least got a screaming downhill out of the deal. In no time at all, I was down on the banks of the Connecticut River and following its sinuous curves on VT 102. The light was getting lower, but it was a nice change of pace to just get into a groove and pedal hard for my campsite. I planned to stay at Lyman Falls State Park, an unstaffed, free park that mainly caters to paddlers. Having done the detour, I forgot there was actually another riverside campsite further north where I could have stopped about 10 miles sooner. But I made it with plenty of light to spare and was able to set up under an empty picnic pavilion and enjoy dinner. Unfortunately, the river was going at way too fast a clip to make swimming safe, but I was able to relax on its banks. I looked across to observe a couple of families who had driven their trucks onto the rocky shore on the New Hampshire side where they were enjoying a picnic. Having biked my way to an almost identical spot, I chuckled a bit about how this scene illustrated the cultural difference between our two states.

I awoke the next morning to valley fog and a very autumnal vibe. I was happy to have the pavilion over me to keep the heavy dew off and I took my time knowing I had about half the miles to ride today compared to yesterday. After an oatmeal breakfast, the sun began to burn through and I took the trail to the south gate (the only “dirt” I’d ride in Bloomfield…sorry Bloomfield) and rejoined Route 102. The road wasn’t too busy for a Monday morning and it was a nice way to warm up the legs. I saw the Enlightening View Metaphysical Center (one of the few businesses I passed this day), but decided I was feeling “well” enough, and pushed on. I soon came to the junction of 105 and 102 AKA downtown Bloomfield. Though slightly overshadowed by North Stratford NH and its micro-commercial district, there is a store on the Vermont side of the river. Debanville’s General Store & Cafe keeps the strangest hours (11-6:30 Wed-Fri and 9-6:30 Sat) and was consequently closed. I crossed the Nulhegan River where it empties into the Connecticut. Interestingly, I passed the headwaters of the North Branch of the Nulhegan at Unknown Pond! 

I worked my way south into the town of Brunswick, making a right onto the Maidstone Lake Access Road, used mainly to get folks to Maidstone State Park. From here I had a steady climb for the next 13 or so miles. Nothing steep, just steady. To start, I was entertained by small rustic wooden snowmen and tiny models of camping-related things like an RV. About halfway to the park, I turned right onto Paul Stream Road and it got really scenic. The road narrowed slightly, though the surface stayed nice. It was clear not many vehicles come through this way and it was one of my favorite roads of the whole project so far! Paul Stream is a stocked trout stream that alternates between sections that rush and leap over rocks and boulders and others that wind placidly. I’ll definitely want to come back and ride it again. Along this stretch, the only people I saw were a worker in a Vermont Fish and Wildlife Department truck and another cyclist coming the other way on a gravel bike. Camps popped up periodically throughout and it was though it wasn’t as remote as the parts of East Haven and Granby that I’ve been through, it was beautifully peaceful and isolated.

Early fog on the Connecticut

By this point I had crossed into my last unorganized town of the trip: Ferdinand. They actually recently changed the name of the entity that manages them from “Unorganized Towns & Gores of Essex County” to “Unified Towns & Gores of Essex County”. I guess “unorganized” didn’t send the right message. I mean, they have created a fairly impressive development plan. Plus they still got to keep “UTG”. After climbing steadily, I switched to South America Pond Road. I would have loved to know where the pond got its name (that type of stuff is what these posts are built on). But sadly, I couldn’t find anything on its history. I did get a fun ride down along the road though, entering into a low-lying area surrounding Moose Bog. The area is popular for wildlife viewing and while there’s a main road, I chose the lesser-used alternative that spit me across a very crooked pedestrian bridge. I was met with a ¼ mile bushwhack to get out to Route 105. I’d certainly recommend the other way you prefer to not getting well acquainted with thorns and nettles.

Across 105 lies Lewis Pond Road. According to the Strava heatmap, folks have ridden it, but not many. So this was my last gamble of the trip and sadly, it didn’t pan out. The road was gated and plastered with VERY insistent signs to not trespass. I had an alternative which was a potential reroute of the Vermont Super 8 route, but I stupidly didn’t download the file onto my phone, so I wasn’t sure which road it was. I really, really wanted to get up to Four Mile Road and into the Silvio Conte Fish and Wildlife Refuge, but unfortunately, I didn’t know the precise way and I’d already been met with so many dead ends, I didn’t feel like gambling. I especially wanted to get up there because almost 20 years ago, I went to a bog in that area with my NR1 class when I was at UVM. It was quite the undertaking as this was a huge lecture with multiple large lab sections. But for a week they piled each us group by group into a coach bus and we made the more than 4 hour round trip up there to see the bogs and boreal forest. I knew it was special at the time, but I didn’t fully appreciate what an undertaking it was logistically. 

Frustrated and a bit heartbroken, I made the choice to take Head of the Pond Road back into Island Pond. It did mean an alternative to speedy Route 105 and more dirt, but I’ll certainly need to get up to Four Mile Road soon. The road slowly improved, got more settled and soon I was passing the entrance to Brighton State Park, which sits on Spectacle Pond, on the east side of Island Pond. Almost back to the car, I made one more pitstop to check out the Essex House and Tavern, a large hotel (formerly known as “The Zoo”) that was built across the Clyde River as it runs out of Island Pond. In fact the Northern Forest Canoe Trail runs UNDER the building! From there it was just a few more hundred yards to the car. I was happy to be done and though disappointed thoughts still seeped into my brain as I packed up, I was so happy to be back on my 251 quest. On the way home I stopped at Sentinel Rock State Park as well as took a dip in the north end of Lake Willoughby (not the skinny dipping end). It was fun passing through so many areas I’ve already ridden as I headed home. I have only a small handful of towns left and while it may be a challenge, I’m hoping to finish this year. We’ll see about that, but I’m so happy to be moving forward!

The Details:

https://www.strava.com/activities/9513237291

https://www.strava.com/activities/9513239840

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3369405/dirt-251-brighton-lewis-avery-s-gore-warren-gore-warner-s-grant-norton-averill-cannan-lemington-bloomfield-brunswick-maidstone-ferdinand-day-1?fmid=cp

https://fatmap.com/routeid/3369407/dirt-251-brighton-lewis-avery-s-gore-warren-gore-warner-s-grant-norton-averill-cannan-lemington-bloomfield-brunswick-maidstone-ferdinand-day-2?fmid=cp

Ride 37: Bennington, Pownal, Stamford, Readsboro, Woodford & Shaftsbury

There are precious few rides left in this project (I’m down to just five if everything goes to plan) and the warm riding days are getting fewer and farther between this season. So given those realities, two things recently became clear: Dirt 251 will extend into a fourth and final year and also, I wanted to be sure I checked off a great ride given how this day was shaping up. The weather looked prime and this route was one I’d been crafting and tweaking for a long time. It borrows elements from both the VTXL and Vermont Super 8 and includes some of the longest stretches of Class IV/ATV trail that will be included in this project. I also knew the location of this route in the southwest corner of the state would be a challenge to reach, so I packed everything early on a Sunday up and got ready for a long day.

The ride started at the Bennington Battle Monument, a bit over two and a half hours south of home. The imposing spire was completed in 1891, 141 years after the Revolutionary War battle that was fought, not in Bennington (as one might expect) but across the line in Walloomsac, New York. Despite this, August 16th lives large in the history of Vermont and is one of two state holidays that aren’t also federal holidays (the other being Town Meeting Day). To be fair, it is named after Bennington because the British were headed for a cache of arms stored in Old Bennington, where the monument now stands. I parked in amongst the smattering of tourists soaking in the scene and trying to stick to the sun to stay warm. I quickly got ready and was on my way by 9:30. I headed south on Monument Avenue past immaculate early American homes south towards the Old First Church. The church was the heart of Old Bennington and is now famous for being the burial site of Robert Frost. Across the street is the decidedly spooky-looking Walloomsac Inn. It’s a bit incongruous with its buttoned-up and oh so twee surroundings. It hosted many presidents over the years, but it hasn’t been a functioning inn since 1984 when it became a private residence. Apparently Arlene and Donna Berry lived there and took their father’s wish that nothing be done to the inn quite literally. Recently both sisters passed away and the last living sister and her family are working through how to best move forward

I pushed on, turning west onto Route 9, soon beginning my climb up Mount Anthony Road. The eponymous mountain also lends its name to the local high school, hosts a trail network on its eastern flanks and serves as a backdrop for the monument. The dirt road climbed steadily but quietly through the golden leaves. I got a fun stare (of awe?) from a kiddo of about 5 or 6 as I passed him and his Dad, out for a walk. Once through the tight notch at the top, the road drops down into Pownal. Growing up, I mainly knew the town for the Pownal View Barn, a building that seems to ooze downhill along Route 7 a few miles north of the Massachusetts border. The quieter parts of town were just lovely. There were hidden away homes and barns and plenty of stunning views to the muscular ridges of the Taconics. Pownal is also the home of Joe Cruz: an inspiration I believe I’ve mentioned here before. Getting to ride some of the roads I see on his Strava and occasionally on his Tuesday Night Rides was a thrill. No sightings of him though: it turns out he was in North Carolina for the ribbon cutting for the Eastern Divide Trail.

Once I switched over to the east side of Route 7, the vibes rather quickly went from bucolic to sylvan: the long views being replaced by long tunnels of foliage. I took a very slight detour to be sure to catch Sweet and Schenkar Roads, which were both lovely and worth the extra mileage. At the end of Schenkar, I reached Country Road. Despite having a fair bit of Street View, I’d read that this road is a challenge. The Strava segment of the roughest section only has 21 folks on it and I managed to get “Local Legend” after one attempt, so it clearly doesn’t get ridden much. Towards the beginning the road was climby, but I wouldn’t call it steep. There were a few rough patches, but nothing close to Class 4. I passed a number of camps which were all in quite good shape as far as camps go. Eventually, I reached the point where the road becomes true Class 4. Still nothing too wild, but just chunky rocks and a bit steeper. This went on for about a mile, but I was able to ride much of it. The road improved as I crossed the power line corridor which is clearly accessed for maintenance from the east. The road soon pitched down, so I threw on my jacket and enjoyed a smooth five mile descent down into Stamford. The village of this small-ish town (population 813) consists mainly of a smattering of typical buildings: town offices, fire department, elementary school, a couple churches as well as a general store and an ice cream stand a bit more out of town. I made for Billmont’s Country Store where rested and ate a little. I had a long climb up Route 8, but first wanted to take a swing south into Massachusetts. I headed south and soon crossed into the commonwealth and county (Berkshire) of my birth. I was specifically in Clarksburg and could actually guess the state border was coming up based on a line of wind turbines on the ridge to my left that suddenly stopped. I later learned they’re part of the Hoosac Wind Power Project which runs right up to the Vermont border. It’s the largest in the state and apparently not a favorite of some of the locals. After a few tenths of a mile, I turned onto Henderson Road which I followed back into good old Vermont and soon connected back up with Route 8. This paved climb had plenty of speedy cars and the sun was now getting covered by clouds, so my temperature was all over the place. Eventually I reached the top, totally missing the fact that I was at the base of Dutch Hill. The formerly lift-served ski area is now all human-powered: that’s both the uphill to earn turns and the maintenance to keep trails open. It seems to be a really cool model and if it weren’t so dang far away from home, I’d love to ski there!

The next section was the notorious Stage Coach Road. Mainly serving as an ATV trail, this rugged track is legendary thanks in part to being one of the cruxes of the above-mentioned Vermont Super 8 course. It begins in the Heartwellville portion of Readsboro (population 702) and runs mainly through Woodford (population 355) almost all the way into Bennington. The first 3-4 miles are like any other dirt or National Forest Service road (it is within the boundaries of the Green Mountain National Forest). However, you soon reach a sign containing a large bullet hole reading “Road Closed For Safety Reasons” and the real Type 2 Fun begins. The next roughly seven miles are mainly chunky, loose rocks that have been brought in to repair the trail. This is great for ATVs and even garnered an award, but for folks on bikes, it’s kind of a nightmare. I had lowered my tires’ air pressure, but there just isn’t enough volume in bike tires to deal with that constant up and down over sometimes loose rock. Those loose rocks even have a name which is inspired by their size: “Baby Heads“. It’s solidly mountain bike territory and I REALLY couldn’t imagine doing this section with a fully loaded gravel bike. It would be all hike-a-bike for sure. There were a few bright spots, including the looks I got from folks in side-by-sides and crossing the Long Trail was cool too. But there were some lows too: the dip down to a stream crossing was rough and walking the bike is just no fun. However, I eventually made it to the final descent. The road was slightly better and it was rideable, but certainly sketchy at times. It’s a steep down (like -10% or more) and the rocks were loose. I actually passed one other biker on this stretch going UP! He was pushing his mountain bike and planned to ride out to Prospect Mountain on Route 9. The last thing I’ll say about this bit is I really loved how remote it was. You really are truly out there. In fact, you’re just south of one of the eight tracks of federally designated wilderness in the state. Stage Coach is certainly worth a visit, but I may need to give it a little while before I return.

Back onto pavement and continuing into Bennington, I passed the appropriately named Autumn Inn while making a beeline for Henry’s Market. I amazingly wasn’t too hungry, but knew I needed a break and calories with about 20 miles still to go. I bought a pickle and some gatorade which I wolfed down along with a bar. The sky was now a steely overcast and I didn’t want to linger, though I wish there had been more time to poke around downtown Bennington. There’s really a lot there. But instead I headed north through a few modest neighborhoods and over the Roaring Branch of the Walloomsac River making my way to Chapel Road. This road is named in fact for a small white church that seems to have lost (or never had) a steeple. The road is paved, but was quiet as I slowly and gently climbed north towards Shaftsbury. At the town line, the road curves sharply left right along the town line. I wouldn’t be surprised if it previously connected with Town Line Road before “Super 7” was routed through. I even found a presentation from the Bennington Historical Society on this whole area before the highway was built. I continued on East Road before taking a left on the amusingly named Holy Smoke Road. There were some nice views, but not as many as I’d hoped for based on the map scouring I’d done. But I at least got a good descent on Trumbull Hill Road before turning onto Cider Mill Road. 

It was here that the route rejoined the Super 8 and I had a slightly unknown water crossing I needed to accomplish. Looking at the satellite and street views, a clear way through didn’t seem obvious. But it’s been on the Super 8 route for a few years running so I put my faith in it…and I was certainly rewarded! There was a fantastic little jumble of boards and pallets that allowed me to hike easily over the water. I even saw what I think was fox scat on the bridge, so animals seem to use it too. It could be a fun place to set up a game camera. After the crossing, I traversed some railroad tracks and began a climb up a trail which eventually became Tunic Road. I soon reached Route 7A and Shaftsbury Center which was the town’s main civic center until the mid 19th century when the railroad pulled the town’s economic center of gravity southward. These days there is an apple grower there named Propagation Pierce Orchard. The modest operation is open a few weeks of the year and has cider, donuts and a few other odds and ends. I unfortunately missed all of the donuts for that day but had a nice chat with one of the proprietors over a cup of hot cider.

I had my final push to make and it was beginning to darken a bit, so I rode on, up onto West Mountain Road. I immediately was treated to some fantastic views up onto the ridge and then continued to enjoy even more amazing views out to the southeast. It was certainly one of my favorite roads of the ride and warrants a return trip to explore more, since I turned off before it continues around to the west as Laclair Road. The ride down into Bennington was just gorgeous. There were crepuscular rays shooting out from the sun and I was just so psyched to be closing in on the finale of this amazing ride. I soon entered the village of North Bennington which is just cute as a button. It’s very much a college town and clearly has a symbiotic relationship with Bennington College. There’s a hip coffee shop/fancy restaurant, a little grocery, a locals bar, a scarcely open pizza joint and a funky community center. Sadly, I couldn’t visit any of them and didn’t even take any photos. So (again) a return trip is warranted. I climbed up Prospect Street ogling the funky, yet somehow also classic homes that likely belong to professors and their ilk. I crossed onto campus through a partially blocked road and enjoyed the quiet ride through the hushed grounds. It has a vibe similar to Bard College: scattered buildings from various styles/eras all within a beautifully park-like, isolated setting. On the way through, I got a peek of the Battle Monument as well as a few deer peacefully munching on the abundant grass. I zipped across the very short Route 67A crossing the Paper Mill Village Bridge. This bridge is one of three (along with the Silk and the Henry) that span the Walloomsac in about 1.5 river miles. I then climbed Silk Road up the hill to the Battle Monument finishing off the ride. At this point, I was pretty starving and knowing I had a long drive ahead of me I wanted something fast and filling. Luckily, I knew of a roadside burger joint which is across from the deer park at the Veterans’ Home. They were closing for the season, but not until the next day, so I enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich, fries and a malted shake before heading north. This may be the last 251 ride of the season, and I can’t wait to try to wrap it up next year!

The Details:

https://www.strava.com/activities/7938807492

https://www.relive.cc/view/vQvy2DZmoKO

NEW Map tool! https://fatmap.com/adventureid/43085775/dirt-251-bennington-pownal-stamford-readsboro-woodford-shaftsbury?fmid=cp

Ride 36: Irasburg, Coventry, Newport City, Derby, Holland, Morgan, Charleston, Brownington & Barton

Almost a whole month has passed since Ride 35. On that one, I needed to switch to a different route. And between travel and other fun summer plans, it took me a while to get organized to ride what I was originally going to do and head up to the NEK. I still put a call out for friends and Kristine came through again. She brought along Beth who I’d ridden with on the Wednesday Winooski rides, and Jon, who it turns out is good friends with Tyler and Rachel and is co-owner with them of The Ranger (of Ride 30 fame). I worked Saturday at the South End Art Hop, so only had one weekend day. Maddie graciously said she’d hold down the home front, so at 9:15 on a Sunday, we all met up on the Irasburg town green.

Irasburg was named for Ira Allen, brother of Ethan, noted Green Mountain Boy, land owner/speculator and debtor among other things. More recently the town has been known as the home of author Howard Frank Mosher whose fiction was based in “Kingdom County” a world very solidly based upon Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom. He lived in Irasburg until his death in 2017. We were thinking more about what a picture perfect day it was than any sort of town history as we geared up for our ride. The route was fairly long (about 70 miles), plus we’d be briefly crossing into Canada just for kicks, so we all double and triple checked we had our passports and had completed the prescreening questionnaire on the ArriveCAN app. We soon had everything together and headed north out of the village. We turned onto Covered Bridge Road which is named for the Lord’s Creek Covered Bridge, which does not cross Lord’s Creek any more, but in fact spans the Black River (it was moved in 1958). It connects the road over to some farmland and is private, but we stopped to check it out anyway. We climbed up a bit, crossing Route 5 onto Airport Road. That road is named for the Northeast Kingdom International, which sits about 5 miles up the road. This sleepy airstrip and its town of Coventry are perhaps most notable for the muddy, sad, end of an era Phish festival it played host to in August 2004. Less than a month later, I was an incoming freshman at UVM with an understanding of the band, thanks to my cool, more musically inclined older brother Lyon. But I have a distinct memory of sitting in the Harris Millis cafeteria, hearing how dedicated folks were that they’d broken up and realizing that people cared way more about this band than I ever knew. 

Our route took us along a beautiful ridge, providing panoramic views of the surrounding hills and valleys. We dropped down towards the Barton River, which meanders lazily north into Lake Memphremagog. It wasn’t always lazy though. The summer of 1810 was fairly dry and a well-meaning miller named Aaron Willson wanted more water to power his mill. He decided that he’d go up stream and dig a trench to allow more water to flow out of Long Pond. With a crew of workers, they dug and it ended up working too well: within 1.5 hours, Long Pond’s two billion gallons of water had flowed downstream, wreaking havoc and forever changing the name of the Long Pond to Runaway Pond. It’s a wild story and you can read a full account here and watch a fun video about the bicentennial celebration here. We matched the current pace of the river: slowly continuing northward, passing the Northern State Correctional Facility. As we rode by I of course thought about the hundreds of people incarcerated there (it’s the largest prison in the state) but also those who have been sent out of state to for-profit prisons, as well as the corrections officers who will soon be working 60-hour workweeks. We ducked through a railyard to hit some dirt in Newport, before soon coming around the bend to see the downtown proper of Newport City.

The City of Newport officially formed in 1917 when parts of the main village of Newport Town combined with the village of West Derby to incorporate as a city. Like many Vermont cities, it’s small geographically (7.63 sq mi) and demographically (4,455 people). These days it’s unfortunately known for its development struggles. Namely the EB-5 ponzi scheme that rocked the Northeast Kingdom, leaving the city with only dashed hopes and a hole in the ground. Maddie and I traveled there for a weekend last year, and while the downtown offerings are somewhat limited, it’s certainly worth a visit. Newport Natural Foods alone makes the trip worthwhile. This day, we didn’t need any supplies so we nixed stopping, and we were happy to get hooked up with the bike path that begins right at the downtown Pomerleau Park. We zigged and zagged a bit around some shopping plazas, spilling into a neighborhood and through a park, before connecting up with the old Beebe Spur rail line that used to connect up to Stanstead Quebec and beyond. There were some nice views over Memphremagog and we enjoyed dreaming about which lake house we’d take (if they were being given away). We eventually reached the end of the line and headed east to the small hamlet of Beebe Plain and its border crossing. It really is just a few houses and a border crossing (which I’m amazed is still open). The next crossing is only 2 miles due east, but we’d be taking advantage of this customs quirk and making a short loop north into Canada. The traffic here is controlled by a small gate that pops up from the ground. Once it’s lowered, you cross an active street and pull into the border patrol station to check in. It was a smooth process and one of the first things I noticed was the Canadian flag hanging at half staff (or half mast as they’d say). I’d forgotten that Canada is a Commonwealth country and was therefore in a state of mourning for Queen Elizabeth II. After clearing customs, we took a quick spin out Rue Canusa, a geographical oddity where the houses on one side are in the US and the other side Canada. It used to be more informal, in the pre-9/11 days, but we were able to ride down and come back, seeing the Vermont plates in the driveways on our left and Quebec plates in those on our right. We then headed for Maison Gorchon, a well reviewed cafe placed right along the “piste cyclable Stanstead”. The whole area is awash with bike paths. In fact Quebec has a province-wide network called La Route Verte, which is in turn part of the Trans Canada Trail: “the longest network of multi-use recreational trails in the world.” They really know how to do it up here. At the cafe I ordered a smoked meat sandwich and a lemon tart. We all enjoyed a break on the picnic tables outside and I’d certainly recommend a stop if you’re in the area. We continued onto the bike path, soon coming across a couple with an e-bike that had gotten a flat. They removed a large nail and had a patch kit, but try as we might, we couldn’t find the leak. Luckily we were near a house and the people there said they’d be able to help. We had some views on Rue Maple and had one more wiggle on a bike path before arriving in the Rock Island village of Stanstead. We took a circuitous route to pass by an old customs house/post office and then over a pedestrian bridge, before crossing back into the good old US of A.

We were now in the village of Derby Line. It’s most famous for the Haskell Free Library and Opera House which was intentionally built on the international border in order to give Canadians and Americans equal access. In fact, it technically has two addresses: 93 Caswell Avenue, Derby Line, Vermont, and 1 rue Church, Stanstead, Quebec (which makes for some funny looking Google directions). This beautiful building had long been easily accessible despite its unique geography, but between the hardening of the border after 9/11 and Covid travel restrictions, folks on both sides of the border have needed flexibility, creativity and patience. The library isn’t the only building that the border bisects: there are several right in the neighborhood. But it’s the most public one, and it’s inspired countless articles, cheeky videos and tourists over the years. We didn’t have time to do a proper tour, but it was fun zooming by on Caswell Ave as we paralleled the border. Quickly we came to the much larger and recently revamped border crossing that handles traffic coming north on Interstate 91 and south on Autoroute 55. We rose up onto a bridge with the Canadian customs building on the left and the American on the right. I really liked the look of the new American building, so (not thinking) I decided to take some photos. We’d actually spoken earlier about how you’re not supposed to take pictures at or of the inspection stations and as soon as I raised my phone and pointed it south, I heard some sharp whistles coming from that direction. It didn’t sink in right away but quickly I realized my mistake and half expected to have a border patrol SUV zoom out to pull us over. Luckily no such drama ensued and we were able to continue east. We chugged up a hill and were eventually rewarded with some fantastic views back west along the border. We soon crossed into Holland. The town is named after the region (NOT COUNTRY) of Holland and once played host to a disaster of a music festival at which 9 people were shot. These days it’s much sleepier and the most exciting thing we saw was a road that shares its name with my brother. We continued into Morgan, stopping at the Morgan Country Store. With its PO boxes and taxidermy, it’s a classic Vermont store that seems to mainly cater to the residents of the camps that ring Lake Seymour as well as snowmobilers in the winter. We enjoyed a quick resupply there before heading south towards Charleston and Echo Lake.

The next stretch of road took us past some farms and there was a ton of haying going on. We were passed a few times by large trucks carrying loose hay. That, the rough road condition and a stretch of Route 5A, made this section less than ideal. The main highlight was Devaney Farmstand, which looked lovely. We eventually made our way to Brownington and the historic Brownington Village area, a much more picutresque sight. This wonderful cluster of buildings sprung up because of the area’s location on Hinman Settler Road (which was also seen on Ride 27) and it also was the site of a dormitory for the Orleans County Grammar School. It was named Athenian Hall by its builder Alexander Twilight, but everyone mainly called it the Old Stone House. Twilight was a fascinating figure with many “firsts” to his name, including the first African American elected as a state legislator and first African-American man known to have earned a bachelor’s degree from an American college or university. The building now serves as a museum and is actually where the 251 Club held their Spring ‘22 get together! We continued south, passing a horse and buggy sign and sure enough, within a few minutes we saw two going north! Brownington has recently seen an influx of Amish and VPR did a great story on it last year. In fact, the photo at the top of the story is of the very sign we saw. We descended down to Vermont 58, climbed around the original Hinman Settler Road that passes through a golf course and seemed sketchy to ride, then down again into Barton. We zipped through quiet streets, which made sense since the Orleans County Fair was having its last hoorah on the south side of town. We then had our final climb up Roaring Brook Road to East Albany Road to West Glover Road where we skimmed past the route we’d ridden on Ride 16, finally officially checking off Barton. We then hit our only Class 4 of the day which connected us over to Burton Hill Road and one of the best downhill finishes of a 251 ride so far. Definitely ride down Burton Hill Road, not up. We then de-biked at our start point and all drove south, stopping at the Burger Barn in Cambridge for a well-deserved dinner.

The Details:

NOTE: Normally this is where I post the link to the Strava activity and a visualization from Ayvri. Unfortunately Ayvri is shutting down. This is a major bummer, since they’ll not only stop allowing new uploads, the old uploads will be taken down as well. So the links on my older posts will soon be broken. Moving forward, I’ll be using “Relive” which is okay, but you can’t move the map as it goes and it only moves at one speed, not like Ayvari which matched the speeds, stops and such of a ride. So it goes. It’s still pretty cool I suppose.

https://www.strava.com/activities/7793294951

https://www.relive.cc/view/vMq5EZRzy8q

Ride 35: Topsham, Newbury, Bradford & Corinth

For this ride, I had originally planned to do a roughly 70 mile route up into the Newport area and so I cast a wide net to search for ride partners. I snagged one in my friend Kristine. She’s a badass rider who’s recently been organizing weekly group rides with the Winooski Bike Gang. Unfortunately, her schedule shifted and the camp where she’d be teaching spoon carving needed her sooner than she’d expected. She needed to be in Thetford by later afternoon on Saturday, so a longer Northeast Kingdom ride wouldn’t work. Luckily I still needed to check off some towns in that neck of the woods, so to the Upper Valley we went! The day before, we also got a third rider: Kristine’s friend Darby joined us and Maddie tagged along too: she had some work to do, and wasn’t sure how much time she’d have. So in order to cover our bases, she packed her bike as well as paddleboard in order to have the most options. 

We met up at the New Hope United Methodist Church in Topsham. We’d originally talked about meeting across the street at the Waits River General Store, but their parking was limited and we didn’t want to hog it for a few hours. We geared up and Maddie took off to get some work done in Bradford, where we’d meet her for lunch. The ride began on Route 25 which runs from Route 302 in the northwest to Bradford in the southeast. The road follows the Waits River valley, but interestingly there isn’t really a proper village directly along the whole road. There are some fun sights to see along the road, but generally it’s a fairly lonely stretch. We were only on it for half a mile before turning north on Watson Hill Road to begin the first of two stout climbs. As we went I got to know Darby a bit better. He’s lived abroad for quite a while working in international schools. He was most recently in Switzerland, but had been in Dubai before that. He’s now working in Middlebury and is considering a move sometime in the future to be closer to his family in Santa Fe New Mexico, but is enjoying Vermont in the meantime.

On the way down after the first climb, we passed someone going the opposite direction with a fully loaded bike. The route I’d picked utilized an 8 mile section of the 302 mile VTXL bikepacking route that this guy was presumably riding southbound. Unfortunately, we were having too much fun bombing the hill to chat him up. In fact, the group had such momentum that we didn’t even stop in the village of East Topsham. As I believe I’ve mentioned before, when I’m doing these rides with other folks, I don’t often make as many stops or take as many pictures. For example, had we stuck around, I may have been able to see the headquarters of Cone Editions, the home and studio of Jon Cone, a pioneer of digital printmaking and founder of the world’s first digital printmaking studio. I also managed to accidentally take a photo that almost perfectly recreates a Milton Bradley puzzle from the eighties. Topsham seems to be a favorite subject of puzzle makers. I mean, things have obviously grown since then, but look at this:

Our momentum carried us just a little bit of the way up the second of the large climbs, this time on Harts Road. We pushed on and entered Newbury, just as we stated to descend. Newbury is southern terminus of the Bayley Hazen Military Road, which I crossed during Ride 4, Ride 6 and Ride 27. The road begins in the north of town, upstream in the Connecticut from the “Great Oxbow” (and way upstream from the one in Massachusetts, made famous by Thomas Cole). However, the local high school is named Oxbow High School– GO OLYMPIANS! We were still in the hills at this point, but got some fantastic views over Newbury Center and down into the river valley. Of all the areas on this ride, I’d say right around here is most ripe for further exploration. Riding the entire length of the Bayley Hazen Road would be one fun thing to do for example. It’s been done and documented, but there’s an FKT up for grabs and it looks amazing. Plus you get to ride past Ticklenaked Pond, which sounds exhilarating.

The route turned southward now as we worked our way down towards Halls Lake. I’d never heard of this diminutive lake (more of a pond if you ask me) but it was beautiful. The shallow body of water is ringed with classic Vermont seasonal camps, as well as what is apparently the first summer camp for girls in the United States: Camp Farwell. We stopped at the town beach, which is a lovely little stretch of sand. In fact, later in the day, this is where Maddie came to for a little paddleboarding. After a brief respite, we continued south passing more camps, as well as a very modern boxy building, clad in silver corrugated metal. It looks relatively new and certainly is a different aesthetic from the rest. My guess is there was more than one conversation around the local campfires discussing people’s feelings on that one. A few miles further we entered the West Newbury Village Historic District. The modest village has some lovely connected farm buildings as well as an old schoolhouse and Congregational Church. As we rolled through, it slowly dawned on us that there was a Summer Festival going on! I believe we’d just missed a parade, but there were tons of folks milling about. As I mentioned earlier, I don’t stop as often with other folks and I probably should have piped up and asked to stop, but we didn’t. I’ll have to catch the festival in 2023. South of the hubbub, we had a tractor pull in front of us. The driver kindly allowed us to pass, though it was right after we pulled onto Rogers Hill Road, so we slowed way down and he ended up passing us back. We climbed up the mellow grade until we came to a panoramic view east across the Connecticut valley and into New Hampshire. We entered Bradford and soon turned onto Chase Hollow Road. I thought about routing us further onto this road to go to the Wrights Mountain Trails which look like they are bike accessible and have an open, first-come, first-served cabin with an amazing view. Maybe one day I’ll do an overnight to out there. For now, we continued onto Tarbox Road (which I recently learned was a surname) then onto a steep paved downhill on Goshen Road into downtown Bradford to meet up with Maddie for a bite to eat.

Our rendezvous point ended up being a hip new cafe called Vittles, which opened in May of last year. They had a delicious menu from which we ordered a light lunch and delicious drinks. I ended up getting a Mamma Boocha kombucha which is brewed literally across the street. I got the hibiscus lime flavor and it was quite good. We all chatted and caught up with Maddie. She’d been at the Bradford Public Library just down the road using their wifi to do some work. The library itself is a beautiful building and it turns out it was designed by Lambert Packard who I discussed during my write up for Ride 31. Soon enough, everyone split and went their separate way: Maddie to paddleboard and us to do the last 15 or so miles. We headed southwest out of town, passing under Interstate 91 and heading towards a large quarry beyond.  We jumped onto South Road seeing signs for Bear Ridge Speedway, a short dirt track in the hills above town. We had a pretty long climb ahead of us with lunch in our bellies, but luckily Kristine is a math teacher and proposed a fun brain teaser: if you had to travel 20 miles and your speed was determined by how far you’d traveled (e.g. at mile 1, you were going 1 mph and at mile 15, you were going 15mph etc.), how long would it take you to travel the 20 miles? We never quite got to the answer, but we’re pretty sure you need some calculus to get there. If you have ideas, let me know. After the climb, we eventually entered Corinth, the last town of the day. To me, Corinth is best known as the home of Northeast Slopes, a small ski area featured in the film United We Ski. It’s considered the longest continuously operating ski area in the country and, though I’ve never skied there, it looks to have a great vibe. Another thing the town is known for is Beetlejuice. The cult classic was filmed throughout town in 1987. In fact there’s a connection between the movie and the ski area: the covered bridge that Barbara and Adam Maitland crash though was moved to the base of the slopes to house the engine for the rope tow. In fact, in the Google Street view, you can see it and if you zoom in, you can see a still from the film posted on the side. It had been a number of years since I’d seen Beetlejuice, so Maddie and I actually watched it the next day. It’s strange, of course, but it holds up pretty well! 

We passed south of Northeast slopes and the village of East Corinth in the hills above the Waits River. The road went up and down, passing by nice houses and even a table giving away summer squash and cucumbers. It was classic scenery for these rides and it was nice to wend our way back towards the start line. We had one surprise though: Claflin Road turns out have a Class 4 section. I should have suspected so, since it crosses from Corinth back into Topsham. I was happy to be going down the road, as there were some larger rocks. And it turns out that Kristine had a close call, but kept it together to ride it out. We came back to the church to wrap things up. Darby got a sandwich from the store across the street and Kristine did a few extra parking lot laps to get over 5,000 feet of climbing. Soon enough Maddie arrived after her paddle and we drove back with Darby as Kristine continued south to camp and a few days of spoon carving.

The Details:

https://www.strava.com/activities/7633229095

https://ayvri.com/scene/gdkz16el5z/cl6sdl2vw00013b6ua096ru10