Stowe through Smugglers Notch to the Champlain Islands

Stowe-bound
Less than two weeks but more than 1000 miles ago, we headed up I-89 for Stowe, stopping first at Vermont's cool welcoming center in Sharon.

In contrast to the state's official gateway center on I-91 in Guilford, this was an ordinary highway rest area until then-governor Howard Dean had the bright idea to secure Federal funding to turn it into Vermont's Vietnam War memorial. In addition to a reminder about the meaning of war to this small state, it's now includes tropical vegetation recycling its water, rocking chairs and free Green Mountain Coffee, the better to peruse the free handouts and maps covering the entire state.
Exit in Sharon and you can find a choice of places to eat in South Royalton, home of the Vermont Law School. We discovered another handy stop in Middlesex (turn left off Exit 9 and it's on the right. Red Hen Bakery fills the space that was formerly Camp Mead.
Great breads, salads, deli.






In Stowe we stayed at Fiddlers Green, one of the town's most reasonably priced and pleasant places to stay if you like genuine old ski lodges. Our room under the eaves was small but cool, with the sound of the brook to lull us to sleep. We tried for dinner reservations at Hen of the Wood in Waterbury, Vermont's dining sensation of the season. No luck. You need to reserve ten days in advance. Instead, we had a great time with friends at Harrison's, a true find right there but hidden downstairs in the middle of the village.




The tone of Vermont's most famous old resort was been in the 1940s by the Stowe Resort Company (it's changed names but not essential ownership by the insurance company now known as AIG). The rope tow that first hauled skiers up the first 4-mile long ski trail here in 1937 was a Cadillac and the most ski resort's most recent expansion--which has been a decade in the works and will be completed this coming December with the opening of its new base lodge and village at Spruce Peak--is deluxe to the max. The new condo hotel at Spruce Peak is stunning but the smallest studio room, off season, is $500 per night and that doesn't even include parking.
Still there are so many sides to Stowe. We can all gawk at the beauty of the new lodge and take advantage of the town's three elaborate spas, great skiing, exceptional biking, hiking on and around Mt. Mansfield (Vermont's highest mountain)and wide choice of dining.

The Lamoille River Valley
Most places to stay, eat and shop are strung along Route 108, "The Mountain Road", which climbs from Stowe Village (down on Route 100) up through Smugglers Notch (Vermont's highest pass) and down into the Lamoille River Valley. Half way down the other side Smugglers' Notch Village rises like a mirage out of wooded mountainside--more than 600 condos, accommodating more than 2600 people, more than half of them kids.





Known affectionately as "Smug's", this resort is a gift to America's dwindling middle class, an affordable family vacation based on a week's stay in well designed and equipped condo units. Kids are heavily scheduled in age appropriate day camps and adults have a choice of programs, most included in the basic price. Condos are clustered in "villages," each with recreation facilities. Shuttle buses circulate constantly, cutting down on traffic. In summer there are plenty of pools and water slides and variations thereon. In winter there's skiing.
We spent the night at Smugs and continued on Jeffersonville, good for galleries and eating at 158 Main (formerly Windridge Bakery), one of Vermont's best rural sources of locally produced ingredients, artfully served as salads, soups and just about anything. The same can be said of Persico's Pum & Main in Johnson, 9 miles east. Johnson is a small but lively college town, also home of Johnson Woolen Mills, which no longer produces wool but buys it locally and still turns out its iconic jackets and workpants as well as other very Vermont clothing.
The Lamoille River Valley is essentially quiet farm country. We checked out numerous B&Bs and stopped at the Boyden Winery in Cambridge, which we remembered fondly from previous visits but were frustrated with this time around. There were wine tastings but just if you were willing to pay $5 --which entitled you to try 13 wines. Who wants to try 13 wines in a place where you have to drive along narrow, rural roads to get anywhere else? We have never seen a winery that charges for a small sampling or wine so you can see what you might like to buy.
Obviously the place is now geared to groups and functions, not the casual visitors who just wants a sense and maybe a token taste of farmlife and wine?
We dined in St. Albans at Chow Bella -- nice atmosphere, good food and wine and found our way to Sampler House B&B in Milton. This turned out to be a real find, a deceptively small cape with spacious rooms featuring beautiful carpentry work by Peter Martin, tastefully decorated by wife Deborah, who also knows how to cook!

Vermont's Northwest Corner
On up to Vermont's Northwest Corner--to Swanton and the Tyler Place Famkily Resort in HIghgate Springs, then across through the Missisquoi National Wildlife Refuge to Arlburg, the northernmost US town in the Champlain Islands. The Thomas Mott B&B is right on the water, facing across the bay to the Green Mountains and the evening was so perfect, we decided to go get take-out to bring back to dine on the dock here. Unfortunately by the time drive the 10 minutes into the village of Arlburg, both stores had closed down their delis for the night and it was another 20 minutes (each way) down to Hero's Welcome, the island's largest general store/stakeout source. Luckily the drive is beautiful and we made it in plenty of time to dine on the dock.
Next day it took more than 4 hours to make the same drive--this time stopping at every B&B and rediscovering Isle La Motte, site of St. Anne's Shrine-
which happens to mark the spot that Samuel Champlain first stepped ashore in what would be Vermont in 1609--reason for big celebrations in 2009. Near the southern tip of this island there's also Fisk Farm, formerly a major source of the island's distinctive black marble but now, thanks to preservationist Linda Fitch, an arts center with and place to explore geological history. Fitch is also responsible for the new hiking paths and interpretive center a few miles away at a site geologists recognize as the world's oldest reef. A short and fascinating video explains all.
Eventually we made our way to the Burlington home of my Vermont co-author Diane Foulds and her partner, Vermont writer Joe Citro and dined at a great little Vietnamese restaurant (buy the 12th edition of our book!).

Champlain Valley
Traveling on down Route 7 we spent a happy hour in Horsford's Nursery in Charlotte, buying hydrangea bushes and a clematis. I'm an enthusiastic but untutored gardener and need a place that's big on informed advice--which Vermont's oldest and one of it's biggest nurseries is.
Vergennes is a great little town but it was mobbed so we headed out to the Basin Harbor Club to check out the Lake Champlain Maritime Museum (allow an hour if you are interested in history)






and to lunch at the resort's informal and pleasant Red Mill. Like Tyler Place, Basin Harbor is a lakeside, family-geared resort with accommodations in cottages and children's programs so that adults can take their ease. There's a major golf course here too. Both places are wonderfully traditional old resorts and prices are per person.
Chasing down remote B&Bs proved frustrating enough to make us finally seriously consider buying a GPS. But when do we have time for that? Or money?
Our final stop was Mary's at Baldwin Creek in Bristol, one of Vermont's first to emphasize local ingredients and still leading that charge.
Enough! We finally made it home around 9pm and my husband--who was very much a part of this expedition--isn't ready to go anywhere soon again.

Sunday we did make it to Marblehead to celebrate my birthday with dear friends--again GPS would have come in handy.




Maine Detour
Come Thursday, Sept. 4 we were off again at 6AM, this time heading for The Samoset in Rockland, Maine, site of our annual Northeast Chapter meeting of SATW (Society of American Travel Writers). The professional development session was on blogging but I was too tired to concentrate properly--just got the impression that I'm doing everything wrong but not how to do it right....

SOUTHERN VERMONT LOOP

Monday, July 21

A week of rain, misadventures and unexpected kindnesses in Southern Vermont
The rain began the minute I pulled into The Vermont Welcome Center on I-91 in Vermon. It poured buckets, then petered out but hit again the moment I stopped in Brattleboro at the Chamber of Commerce. This pattern of letting up while I was inside or driving and pouring the moment I stepped out pretty much held all week.

In East Jamaica Laura Howe, one of my adopted mothers and
The Vermonter to whom several editions of the guide have been dedicated, fed me
Tuna fish, lettuce from her garden and her ginger and oatmeal cookies.

Up the road in Jamaica 9 (Vt.), the town hall

has been restored, fitted with an authentic painted curtain from Bellows Falls. Muzzie has sold his hardware store and the building is now an outlet for a local glass-blower.



d







Elaine Beckwith’s gallery continues to be one of the best in Vermont and Skip Woodruff (a Howe relative) is thriving, making and selling his rustic lodge furniture. Margie’s Muse weaving shop, the Three Mountain Inn and Asti’s (authentic Swiss dining) plus Jamaica State Park—right there with trails and a swimming hole—all make for an exceptional village that you can drive through in seconds but is good for a couple pleasant days. I was there until almost 4pm.

Route 30 snakes on west, up and up through woods to Bondville. I turned at the deceptively modest “Stratton” sign. The access road, long and steep, climbs by the golf clubhouse and course, ending at a mammoth development. The small Chapel of the Snows – which stood all alone on that day (ok: 40 years ago?) when my friend Mary was married there, is now dwarfed by condo complexes. According to the Welcome Center clerk, just 250 condos are in the rental pool but that’s hard to believe. The good news is that cell phones work here.

Back down on Route 30 I stopped at “Out Back” and was glad I did. Its dining room and deck are right on Winhall River and all signs point to a find, especially for families, with Thursday night bbqs at picnic tables and live blues or other music.

North on Route 100 pottery was set out in the field and open door at D. Lasser Ceramics.
Years ago I bought a pair of crooked purple and blue candlesticks here and, although current pieces look more sophisticated, it’s nice to see that they are still not afraid to set them out so trustingly.


I’d been tipped off that The New American Grill in the Londonderry Shopping Center is outstanding and I’m sure it is. Unfortunately it was the chef owner’s birthday and so he wasn’t cooking, but I would return in a minute—booths, a great menu, friendly service, decent prices. Jake’s, also in the shopping center and formerly the local favorite, was empty but I understand the food is still okay.


It stopped raining and I ventured east along Route 11, past Magic Mt. to Lowell Lake, off up a side road and a quiet backwater that’s recently become at state park. Fishermen were drifting in but I didn’t see any places to swim.



The Colonial House is a small, homey inn and motel surrounded by meadows, south of Weston village. Kim and Jeff Seymour are the second generation innkeepers here and there’s a casual, friendly feel to the place. Given all the day’s collection of flyers, etc., I was grateful to be able to pull right into a rear motel unit and to begin sorting.



Tuesday, July 22
Breakfast is big at The Colonial House, with a menu to choose from, homemade breads. I fit right in at a breakfast table of half a dozen women, several here by themselves, drawn by services at the nearby Weston Priory, a Benedictine monastery known for its music and expansive peace.

Weston itself was a disappointment this time around.




The Inn at Weston is lovelier than ever , in part because innkeeper Bob Aldrich, a doctor in his previous life, is a passionate gardener. Perhaps I’m just sour grapes because the Vermont Country Store wasn’t carrying my guide and in the past they have been a big outlet. A new Gallery on the Green has opened with WiFi, good coffee, teas and art but the museums are closed weekdays and the general feel is tacky.


After a false start, I found the Landrgrove Road and the Landgrove Inn, seemingly as lovely as ever, a great woods retreat with pool, pond, walking trails and dining room.
Unfortunately I had a 2pm appointment with the chamber in Manchester so had to scoot through Peru and the less said about that meeting, the better.

Manchester is a bit overwhelming for a travel writer who needs to get it all straight and hasn’t been there for the ten years I had left it to my co-authors. The Barnstead Inn was perfect for me needs—a tasteful room with all the comforts but not fussy, plus a pool.
Dinner at The Perfect Wife with Chris and Ted Sprague, innkeepers at the far more luxurious Inn at Ormsby Hill, was a delight and tuned me inn.

Wednesday, July 23
Scurried around Manchester and checked out both Dorset and Pawlet




but it’s a no brainer I should have allowed another day herer. The Gourmet Café and Deli, back behind Riteway, was a great find for lunch and I was chugging along despite the rain when I walked in The Equinox inh Manchester Center, Vermont’s only surviving 19th century spa resort. It’s recently changed hands, yet again. Current owners, a New Jersey-based conglomerate, have lavished it with millions in excruciatingly bad, insensitive taste. Theoretically “Art Deco”because the resort prospered in 20s era of “auto touring”, the public rooms are attractive but each of the guest rooms is dominated by a huge flat-screen TV and outsized contemporary furnishings that would look fine in am urban boutique hotel but are totally bizarre here.
Shouldn’t there be a law, or at least guidelines, when owners acquire a historic property on the National Register? The spa area is lovely and the amenities—golf, archery, falconry, off-road driving—are still there but the hotel itself is now a shell with
An anywheresville feel.

Too bad the decorator didn’t seem to know about Susan Sargent’s bright fabrics, showcased next door in the old Johnny Appleseed. They would have been far more sophisticated and appropriate.

Whew! I got that out of my system. Unfortunately I was still filled with negaztive vibes when I left the hotel and managed to slip on the marble steps in front of the North Shire Court House across the street. I hit my chin and a car stopped. Two nice guys offered to take me back into the Equinox, where they worked, and give me some ice.

“No way!” I croaked. “I’m not going back in that hotel.” I’m sure thay thought I was crazy. Luckily at the Historic Hildene Visitors center, my next stop, Paul Maynard (who remembered me from years past at the Inn at West Hill in Arlington) gave me plenty of sympathy and an ice pack. Paula sent me over to Southern Vermont Arts Center, which now hosts major seasonal exhibitions—at present featuring Janet Fish and her amazing renditions of glass.

Enough! I drove through the rain to Arlington and the Country Willows where Anne and Ron Webber, longtime are innkeepers, gave me a warm reception and we dined well at the reasonably priced South Arlington Café.

Thursday, Arlington & Bennignton
One of the best breakfast’s ever! An omelet concocted from Anne’s herb and veggie garden with French press coffee. I prowled the local antiques shops and inns happily but fell behind schedule as usual, finally snagging lunch at 2:45 in a general store—during a downpour—in North Bennington, home of the Park McCullough House, one of Vermont’s truly hidden gems. I remember walking into the parlor there one day (40 years ago probably) and finding Aaron Copland at the grand piano there and no one else in the house. I had forgotten that until I heard a musician practicing in the carriage house when I entered.

Finding the middle of Bennington – and then the chamber—took much more doing than I’d anticipated. Since my last visit by-passes have looped like spaghetti around the old Rte.7 and 9 junctions, where the traffic backup seems worse than ever. JP at the chamber couldn’t have been more helpful but it’s obvious I have to come back to do Bennington justice. At least I found the Bennington Arts Center with its Covered Bridge Museum and managed to stop at the Bennington Monument.



The former Walloomsuc Inn, which was here during the Battle of Bennington (which wasn’t here) is the most picturesque ruin in the state—it was Vermont’s oldest inn forever but the owners refused to paint or upgrade it. Now it would be the perfect venue for murder mysteries. It was already past 6pm and I fled east, down Route 9 and up out of the Battenkill Valley through wooded Woodford—said the be the highest village in Vermont—then down into the Deerfield Valley and Wilmington to the White House, a former mansion that’s been an inn, under the same ownership, forever.

Or so I thought. Turns out it changed hands on Wednesday. Stan Smith, the new owner, is a former Beverly Hills realtor. I supped at The Maple Leaf Brewery in the middle of Wilmington, which is no longer a brewpub because it had just changed hands.


Friday, Mt. Snow Valley
Mt. Snow is now owned by a Missouri –based company and, according to the C of C, is pouring money into snowmaking and other improvements. Hard to tell anything about a ski area in summer but local lodging actually seems on an upswing. The Inn at Sawmill Farm, celebrating its 40th anniversary this summer—is still the standout place to stay and eat here and seems more inviting than ever, with traditionally luxurious rooms and a blue heron (no clipped wings) cavorting around the pond beyond the pool.

Niche inns are the thing here. The Grey Ghost now caters to motorcyclists, Trail’s End is all about herbal spa treatments, Austin Hill is about murder mysteries and “Paws” in the middle of Dover will be opening soon with, I’m told, dog runs for every room. While The White House will no longer maintain x-country trails (it’s still a great places for weddings), The Hermitage, currently being totally rebuilt with an eye to energy efficiency and “green construction” will reopen by winter with its great trail system.

Again I feel like a bit of a ghost in this Valley. I have not only skied Haystack Mt. (now a private community with just its golf course open) but Carinthia, once owned by a college classmate, now a “frontal face” reserved for free-style skiing, part of Mount Snow. Soon too, no one will remember the lake with its distinctive floodlit fountain in front of Snow Lake Lodge. It’s being drained, despite its fish and otters. Seems someone died there five years ago, falling out of a paddle boat after hours.


My final find of the day was Cooper Hill Inn up in east Dover, arguably the inn with the best view in Vermont—this afternoon it was all the way west (70 miles?) to Mount Monadnock. Formerly this was an informal, groups-geared place but present owners Lee and Charles Wheeler have created a very special place, reserving one wing of the lodge for families and tailoring the other wing to romantic getaways. There’s an informal rec room but also a gracious living room in the original 18th century core of the house. The setting for a wedding is in a sheltered hollow below an exceptionally flowery rock garden and everywhere is that amazing view.