My great great great great great great grandfather
Rita and I visited my friend Carl in Vermont during December, before I started a new job at Blue Origin. The final month of the year was not the ideal time for a bike ride, but to our good fortune there was very little snow on the ground. Furthermore, the snow that was on the ground when our plane landed in Burlington in the night was gone by the morning.
Although it was the first time I’d set foot in Vermont, the state held a special place in my heart. One of my direct descendants is Remember Baker, a member of the Green Mountain Boys and cousin to the legendary Ethan Allen. He participated in an invasion of French Canada, fought numerous battles in Vermont against British New Yorkers, and helped capture Fort Ticonderoga. Then, in 1775 while scouting along the Richelieu River, he was shot dead by Native Americans. They cut off his head and paraded it to the British.
In honor of my long deceased relative we paid a visit to the Ethan Allen Homestead. Remember Baker also has a memorial site in Noyan, Quebec, but it was across a border and far to drive. The homestead was quaint and rustic, just like Vermont. It had a couple barns, and sat in a meadow above the Winooski River.
No pressure to plan
While the snow was gone, the cold wasn’t; It was in the mid 20s when we arrived at Carl’s house. Carl and his wife Poppy finished breakfast as we readied our gear. Then Poppy had to leave for work and the three of us ventured into the garage to check out the bikes. Carl has a knack for getting bikes on the cheap. I got to ride a classic Schwinn World which was bought at a garage sale for $5. Rita rode the neighbor’s hybrid bike and Carl traveled on another old road bike.
We were on Carl’s home turf meaning I didn’t need to plan any of the route. As I’ve said before, this is the best circumstance for doing a ride in a new state. He took us from his apartment down to the Burlington Waterfront and the Island Line Trail. Our aim was to reach the Burlington Causeway. The cold wind whipped hard as we gazed across Lake Champlain toward New York. We took in views of the Adirondacks, gazing toward the summits of the state high point, Mt. Marcy, and the skiing mountain Whiteface.
Back on the trail, sheltered from the wind, we headed north. The scenery was largely small homes with occasional views of the lake. One yard sported a “JK Rowling is Right” sign. Closest guess for what it means wins a gumball. We traveled several more miles before crossing the copper colored Winooski River.
Burlington Causeway
The northern section of the trail is more open and has parks and forests to treat the eye. It was pleasant, but the main event was yet to come. Near Colchester Point the trail turns into the Burlington causeway and breaks out into the waters of Lake Champlain. We biked closer, first passing through Airport Park and then a bog. I encourage the reader here to come up with the difference between a swamp and a bog. I think it’s just whether or not there are gators.
Next we hit the causeway, and it was hell or high water. The wind blasted in from the West, and waves crashed on to the rocks from either side. Occasionally the waves would be so strong that we’d feel the spray in our faces. Rita struggled to keep up and started having knee pain, so we had to separate if Carl and I wanted to make it to the end.
Although it was cold and windy, we were once again treated with amazing views. Not only could we see across the lake to the Adirondacks, but if we looked in the other direction we could see across the lake to the Green Mountains. While the Adirondacks stole the show with their snowcapped peaks, the Greens had a quiet dignity about them. Another notable thing about the Greens is their name, the Greens. It doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like mountain ranges are supposed to.
Out of service
The major peaks visible in the Green Mountain Range were Mt. Mansfield and Camel’s Hump. The state highpoint is Mt. Mansfield, and Camel’s Hump has the signature appearance of something you can probably guess. I took an affinity to Camel’s Hump, but it was still the towering Adirondacks to the West that attracted most of my attention. I once made an Adirondack chair in high school shop class. It was a bit of a patchwork job, but it served its purpose until it started to rot and got used for firewood.
The sun was shining when Carl and I arrived at the end of the Burlington Causeway. In the summertime there is a ferry that takes pedestrians and bikers across to Grand Isle and the town of South Hero. The hero is of course Ethan Allen. Given that it was winter no ferry was present, so we took some pictures and then turned around to find Rita.
Despite the knee troubles Rita was still biking down the Burlington causeway and fighting the wind. She didn’t feel the need to make it to the end though, so we all turned around together and started biking back. I marveled at a single bird floating in the water near the rocks, and then Rita laughed, pointing out that there was a huge flock of them a few hundred yards out. They were likely cormorants.
Team car to the rescue
On the way back Rita’s knee pain steadily increased until she could barely bike anywhere. She finally broke down when we took a shortcut through a graveyard. I helped her up a small hill and then we called in our support vehicle, Poppy and her white Toyota.
Rita and Poppy drove away but Carl and I followed closely behind. We played a game of cat and mouse, changing who was the leader and who was the follower. It annoyed a hurried driver, who came within a foot of Carl before laying on his horn when he was stopped behind the Toyota. Poppy’s response; drive even slower.
There’s no shame in not completing a ride as long you use up every last drop of gas you have in the tank. I had to get bailed out from the heat in Iowa, https://jollyroutes.com/bluffs-farms-and-the-field-of-dreams/, and from the wilderness in Washington, https://jollyroutes.com/the-day-i-almost-died/. Rita came within a few miles of the end but had to tap out. Afterwards we ate lunch at Kismayo, a small Somali restaurant. They had a delicious Somali Tea that was the perfect refuge from the hours spent out in the wind and cold.
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