We’ve been summer-vacationing up in Stowe for, oh, let’s call it three years. Absolutely great – few mosquitoes, great hiking, spectacular views, good food, great roads for riding, good paths for running. We dig it. I’m tempted to buy 15 acres and start raising organic goats and sheep, making cheese, and growing my hair long. Go off the grid, and all that sort of stuff.
My brother-in-law says “Vermont is a cult.”
Ah, so be it.
But it’s been good up here so far. The boys are having a blast riding the bike path – Jake made the entire 11 miles on Sunday, and Nate’s cranking on the trail-a-bike, such that I really don’t have to push other than to go up and over hills. Pretty stinking cool.
Running is good. Sunday morning, I did 9 miles, looping through Moscow and back through the village to pick up the toothbrush that I inevitably forget when I go on travel. The upside is that I’ve now got a toothbrush in pretty much every bag I travel with, provided I don’t clean out the bags before I go.
Yesterday, 45 minutes, or 5.1 miles on the path. I didn’t really want to push myself, so I didn’t. Nice how that works. We then drove over to the Cabot Creamery, getting only slightly lost along the way. On the way home, we stopped at the Green Mountain Club headquarters to pick some maps. One of the guys stopped me on the way out, and pointed me towards the Short Trail, a quick 1 mile loop behind the hiker center. The boys had a blast.
Have I mentioned I love my wife? She sent me out fishing last night. Two stocked rainbows on dry flies. Cannot beat it.
Vermont is a cult.
Postscript: I’m kind of surprised – “Vermont is a cult” seems to be an original phrase. I could have sworn I’d at least seen it on a t-shirt before my BiL said it.