Drive Report: None - we went exploring today, but on the scooter instead of in The Rig.
Tis a wee bit chillier up North than we were accustomed to in the Southern latitudes of Cape Cod and Rhode Island generally. The extra blanket went on over the comforter from the get go last nite - and was a welcomed addition. Lows for the following three nights are 58 (not bad), 50 (well - OK) and 43 (I’d just as soon not). And before ya start with the "What a sissy" comments - remember that we're in The Rig - the walls are a might thinner than your typical residence. That’s compared to 59, 66 and 74 in good old MHK. But we still got out today - we just ended up somewhere completely different than we had planned. It was all good tho.
Originally we had intended to hit the South entrance to the bike/pedestrian causeway that runs thru the Lake Champlain from the Island toward Burlington. Burlington is at the South end and we intended to walk it a ways to the North. We couldn’t get on it at our (North) end because it was closed. Apparently a big storm hit when the water was high this spring and washed a bunch of it out. It’s under repair right now. So - we drove all the way to the South end only to find that it was closed there as well. Rats. However, while we were there, two local riders (there were a ton of cyclists out today) stopped and chatted us up. They eventually recommended we take the back roads (described as curvy) to Stowe, VT as they were very scenic and went right past “Smuggler’s Notch”. They weren't kidding about the "curvy" part. And Susan? Well naturally, she was all for anything involving smuggling - so off we went. I just hoped those two plastic bottles of "water" she packed in the saddle bags were actually water and that the Revenuers would leave us alone...
I was standing near the parking area for Smuggler's Notch when I took this pic. The bluffs were incredible. As is typically the case, the picture doesn't do it justice, but from where I was standing they went pretty much straight up.
We took this pic at the base of the bluffs. Just to the left, out of the pic some guy was teaching a young lady how to rock climb. She was hanging off some big rock like a sloth on a South American tree branch - which is to say, pretty much upside down.
At the base of the bluffs these huge boulders had either separated from the mountain where they sit or had rolled down here from above. I tend to believe they just separated right here - low on the rock face. It was quite an interesting sight because of the trees that had taken up residence here. Their roots had in some cases wrapped right around the boulders.
The Smuggler and me at Smuggler's notch. So named, BTW because during the Embargo Act of 1807 which forbade trade with Canada, Vermonters would smuggle everything from livestock to goods thru the pass. The name was reinforced when, during Prohibition, Canadian liquor was smuggled thru the pass to those same Vermonters. Maple syrup for booze - seems equitable enough.
Right across the road from the parking area was this sign. Pffffftt - A measly 14%. I climbed 16% - this is hardly worth mentioning.
However, on the way down the other side we found this. A respectable 16% grade. And they weren't kidding. The road narrowed to one lane and had a series of switchbacks equal to those I climbed while on the ride. Having gone down them on the scoot, I'm amazed I was able to climb them on a bike.
On the way thru Stowe, which lies on the other side of Smuggler's Notch, we saw a sign for the Von Trapp lodge. If you don't know the name, just Google "The Von Trapp family". Apparently they're all related to Julie Andrews.
This shot was taken while at the Von Trapp Lodge and is our bobblehead pic of the week. And for only $19.95 (plus shipping and handling) you too, can have one of these hilarious bobbleheads for your home or office. But hurry - quantities are limited. The reader should also note the meadow behind us bobbleheads in this pic, because...
...this is the very same meadow that Susan headed for after she got her helmet off. There were cows grazing placidly here. Until she started spinning around and singing, "The hills are alive with the sound of music..." Even the cows were embarrassed, that's why you don't see them in the pic - they all fled.
After a Security detail from the Von Trapp Lodge helped me get Susan back to the parking lot, the helmet went back on and we headed back to Grand Isle and The Rig.
But on the way we stopped at a local pub for dinner. The reader should not the rather large double barreled shotgun hanging over the bar. Not sure what statement management is trying to make here, but I agree with them wholeheartedly.
It was only three miles back to The Rig after dinner, and a good thing it was. The sun had gone down as we dined and I got cold riding the scoot. If I was cold, you can imagine how the Smuggler felt about it.
Till next time.
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