We first rode north a couple of miles from our Airbnb and then made a left turn to hook up with the appropriately-named West Shore Road. There was a fairly consistent line of trees to provide from shelter from the steady wind coming off of Lake Champlain, but occasional breaks would allow great views of the water and the Adirondack Mountains beyond.
A little surprised at the high quality of the road surface, we enjoyed the gentle rises and falls of the route. Along the way we saw some attractive rocky coves (“I could live there!”) and attractive homes, before reaching the entrance to the ferry that takes passengers and their vehicles across the lake to Cumberland Head, just east of Plattsburgh, New York.
The lower end of the island had a few more challenging climbs, though nothing tragic. We passed the historic Eagle Camp, which was practically silent at this time of the year, as well as the beautiful grounds of the Snow Farm Vineyard & Distillery, where they were setting up for a weekend wedding.
I had seen the Roy Marsh Trail marked on the MapMyRide.com website, but as we passed the trailhead, I commented to Sue, “NOT bike-worthy!” We continued on, turning north on South Street, and pedaled past a couple of orchards into “downtown South Hero”, which consisted of a gas station and a handful of other small businesses.
After a short climb up Bell Hill Road, near our apartment, I left Sue to do about fifteen miles on my own. I pedaled across the middle of the island and took East Shore Road north along the coastline. Although this road had many more ascents and descents, none were too challenging, and I noticed there were far fewer trees blocking my views of the water and Green Mountains to the east. I could spot Mt. Mansfield, Vermont’s tallest peak (4393 feet) in the distance, the “scar” of one of the Stowe resort ski trails made it obvious.
I missed a street sign (or it was missing) somewhere along the way and ended up further north than I wanted to be. Because I had told Sue that I would only be about 45 minutes or so, and I had previously concerned her with being overdue on a ride during this trip, I abandoned my original plan to continue meandering around the perimeter of the island. I instead took the direct/fast route back, straight down U.S. 2 to reach NY-314 west.
It seems that during our trip, Fridays have been the cursed days, as each one has had a downpour or two. The great thing about modern technology and travel is being able to receive reliable(?) forecasts, or at least use local radar and make your plans accordingly. We managed to get the most out of days that have threatened to be wet.
We saw that the late morning/early afternoon would be our best shot to do something fun, so we ventured out to a few local trails that had been recommended online. During our long travel history together, Sue and I usually squeeze in a hike or two. We were laughing at how tame the routes were that we ended up doing here on South Hero Island. Honestly, we had done much more challenging paths with our sons when they were young.
We were recalling one particularly route that pushed the extremes a bit, up and over Frankenstein Cliff among the White Mountains of New Hampshire. At the time, it seemed maybe a bit too long, too steep and perhaps we didn’t have an entirely comfortable supply of water and snacks, but it was exciting. After all, everyone came back alive, unhurt, and our boys were having fun!
Our aim here was just to be outside and possibly find some good views of the lake and surrounding mountains. We discovered a very nice spot in a rocky cove and sat on a log just enjoying the scenery. There were hundreds of perfect skipping rocks nearby, and we would occasionally send some hopping across the water.
We saw that the late morning/early afternoon would be our best shot to do something fun, so we ventured out to a few local trails that had been recommended online. During our long travel history together, Sue and I usually squeeze in a hike or two. We were laughing at how tame the routes were that we ended up doing here on South Hero Island. Honestly, we had done much more challenging paths with our sons when they were young.
We were recalling one particularly route that pushed the extremes a bit, up and over Frankenstein Cliff among the White Mountains of New Hampshire. At the time, it seemed maybe a bit too long, too steep and perhaps we didn’t have an entirely comfortable supply of water and snacks, but it was exciting. After all, everyone came back alive, unhurt, and our boys were having fun!
Our aim here was just to be outside and possibly find some good views of the lake and surrounding mountains. We discovered a very nice spot in a rocky cove and sat on a log just enjoying the scenery. There were hundreds of perfect skipping rocks nearby, and we would occasionally send some hopping across the water.
The next morning, I sat down to enjoy Il Lombardia, the last cycling “Monument” of the season, while I ate breakfast. It was exciting to see the young Frenchman, Paul Seixas, redeem himself after feeling like he had let down his teammates at the World Championship last week.
We were having a bit of trouble deciding what to wear on our planned ride on the Island Line Trail, since temperatures were only predicted to be in the high 50s. It didn’t feel any worse than some of the mornings in Montreal, and I had gotten by then with a thin base layer and a long-sleeve cycling jersey. Spoiler alert: I chose somewhat badly!
It was sunny, but there was a chilly breeze coming off the water when we started out over the causeway. The situation didn’t improve when passengers ahead of us filled the ferry to capacity, and we had to wait for the next crossing. It was only about a 200-foot channel that the ferry has to traverse, so approximately fifteen minutes later, I was finding a strategic position in which to sit, out of the motion of air, rubbing my arms to get some warmth back in them.
Unfortunately, when we were back on the bikes, the pace at which had to ride in order to safely share the narrow causeway did not warm me up. Yes, I was uncomfortable, but I could still appreciate how beautiful our surroundings were!
The trail came to an end a little over a mile later, just outside of the large playground at Oakledge Park, and we cut east through the residential neighborhood, turning left onto the bike path parallel to Champlain Parkway. We crossed west on Flynn Avenue to loop back to the Island Trail, but not before taking a photo of the World’s Tallest Filing Cabinet – it’s not as great as it sounds, and honestly, it doesn’t sound that great, either!
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I am starting to really enjoy doing a lengthy ride with Sue at a slightly-easier pace then doing a high-tempo stretch afterward on my own. This is the third time I’ve carried out this routine during the trip, and each time, I’ve felt a lot of jump in my legs!
Sunday started off a little gloomy, and we didn’t really have anything major planned to do together, so I was content to watch Paris-Tours, the last really significant race on the pro cycling calendar, while Sue went off on her own to a thrift store we had passed earlier in the week. Paris-Tours used to be held on a fairly featureless, flat course between the two cities, and traditionally a sprinter won. In 2018, organizers added 12.5 kilometers of Chemins de Vigne, gravel tracks through the French vineyards, within the final 60km of the race route.
Despite all the recent exercise we had done, Sue also planned to run a couple of miles on the appropriately-named the Roy Marsh Trail, which bordered some wetlands. When she returned, I was catching up on some writing again, this time while listening to a favorite online jazz music station. Sue told me that out at the trailhead, she came upon a lad walking kind of aimlessly around his Jeep. She asked if he needed a jump start or something, and he flatly answered, “I lost my keys in the swamp.” Obviously, there wasn’t much she could do, and Sue said the guy looked pretty chill, despite the situation.
Later we returned to the pub for dinner, and it was much busier with pro football games on the televisions, but the gluten-free pepperoni pizza was well worth it. We returned to the Airbnb and loaded some of our belongings into the Fit, in order to ease our workload the next morning. Not wanting to haul any big bags into my cousin’s place, we also put together a small pack with a change of clothes for each of us inside.
Sue had a restless night of sleep, so she stayed in bed a little longer Monday morning. We were in no real hurry, and we had done most of our packing the night before. I was in the kitchen and glanced at the lovely blackboard art our hostess had done with colored chalk flowers and block lettering saying, “Welcome Sue and Glen”.
Off and on during our travels we had been rewatching episodes of Seinfeld. A memorable storyline unfolded with George’s fiancée Susan being poisoned by the cheap wedding invitations that had been ordered. Something I had forgotten was that earlier in that episode, Kramer had mistakenly greeted the couple with, “Hey, George, Lily!” When they correct him, he explains, “Well you look like a Lily.”
I decided to have fun with Sue and change her name to Lily on the blackboard, re-creating the fancy block letters with the colored chalk, so that it would be less obvious. Despite the fact she was constantly walking by the board as she was gathering up the final few things, she never noticed my work. Not wanting her to miss it before we left, I stood in her way and slowly glanced toward the blackboard a couple of times. “What?” she asked and followed my sightline. Finally, she smiled and laughed at her discovery.
The amusement was revisited a few days later, when our hostess sent an email apology for getting her name wrong. I giggled as Sue returned an apology for her husband’s prank.
We had just over four hours of driving ahead of us to my cousin’s place in Portland, Connecticut, and most of it was going to be covering the full length of the state of Vermont. It was clear early on, despite the fall colors, why this state got its name, as the highway constantly weaved up, over, down and around gnarly, tree-covered peaks.
Despite it being a fairly small, coastal state, Connecticut is also not flat at all. We laughed as we drove up from the state’s namesake river to Sharon’s place, as just like us, with our home up a steep hill just a few blocks from the Schuylkill, if we ever have flood issues, it’s going to have to be of NOAH proportions!
The amusement was revisited a few days later, when our hostess sent an email apology for getting her name wrong. I giggled as Sue returned an apology for her husband’s prank.
We had just over four hours of driving ahead of us to my cousin’s place in Portland, Connecticut, and most of it was going to be covering the full length of the state of Vermont. It was clear early on, despite the fall colors, why this state got its name, as the highway constantly weaved up, over, down and around gnarly, tree-covered peaks.
Despite it being a fairly small, coastal state, Connecticut is also not flat at all. We laughed as we drove up from the state’s namesake river to Sharon’s place, as just like us, with our home up a steep hill just a few blocks from the Schuylkill, if we ever have flood issues, it’s going to have to be of NOAH proportions!
We had a great time catching up with my cousin and her husband, reminiscing and telling new stories, including tales about our trip. I even received a bit of a bonus, adding another station for my "collection", on the way to pick up my aunt and uncle at their nearby Cromwell, CT, residence.
I relayed a story I had told Sue, when we had spotted a photo of the Three Stooges in a Montreal shop. I explained that my mother would not allow us to watch the Stooges, obviously because she was afraid that we’d try some of their dangerous antics on each other. Sue immediately chimed in, “She already had her own Three Stooges!”
We grabbed some breakfast in the morning, and because of our simple packing strategy, we were on our way fairly early. I can’t say we were really looking forward to returning home, since we had been to some beautiful places, but living in and out of bags and being away from the convenience of our “home stuff” can grow a bit tiresome. I hope that regular readers enjoy hearing about our experiences - I know that the blog gives me a chance to go back and read some of my old entries, sparking some fantastic trip memories.
