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Published: March 9th 2024
Seymour Lake from cabin
Plus an artificial pondTo drive to her uncle's place in Vermont, Trish recommended driving through Canada, by-passing Montreal on the relatively new toll road. Thus, the scenery soon enough became the verdant landscape of the
Eastern Townships. We were glad to have the GPS guide us around a long traffic tie-up caused by a stalled truck.
Near the end of the four-hour drive, we crossed the border. Trish avoided the major crossing, took one glance at a backlog at the Stanstead crossing, and drove on to a small crossing in
Beebe . Several cars were ahead of us, an unknown circumstance to Trish, and we acknowledged while we waited that this was Friday afternoon on a long weekend. The quite-friendly border guard spoke only to Trish and sent us on our way after examining our passports and peering inside the vehicle. (He liked the dogs, Newt and Quiche.)
On the Vermont side, we traversed a deep, wide ravine and rose to lush rolling hills and farms. At first there was no discernible difference from southern Ontario and Quebec. Gradually I realized there were a lot more old houses, hotels, and shops – all beautifully cared for.
Arriving, we drove along
Seymour Lake ,
where a number of small boats and pleasure craft were tied-up. Turning left, we ascended a steep, long grassed road-path to a cabin with a spectacular view over the valley, catching a bit of the lake behind trees. A wide porch encircled three sides of the cabin. The cabin interior was an open kitchen and sitting area, with two small bedrooms behind and a sleeping loft above. All the materials were recovered from other sites and projects. A “nap shack” was on the other side of the property. An outhouse completed the rustic accommodation.
The sun set in a vivid glow of pink and orange. As it approached the horizon, the orb was blood orange.
2023 September 2
The morning began very slowly. On cue at 7:30, I had to go to the outhouse, regardless of the inconvenience. I pulled on the big fleece borrowed yesterday evening, put on my sandals, quietly opened the back door, walked across the lawn and mud, and did my thing. Once relieved, the morning seemed softer – fresh, full of light, subdued bird sounds. I forgave the chilliness I had suffered at intervals during the night.
Catering to my tourist
Jay Peak
Seen from cabin bent, Trish took us to
Jay Peak . The rolling countryside was washed with many greens – evergreen trees, mid-tone bushes, airy rustling leaf trees, cultivated fields, and swathes of grass. The blue sky gave way to light grey clouds and later shone pale blue in the sunshine. Small towns lined the roads every few miles. The traditional Victorian and Edwardian architecture had morphed into the New England style of clapboards, painted window frames and bay windowed turrets.
Jay Peak is a ski and tourist resort, not very different than those near Banff. A large hotel anchored a swimming pool, skating rink, restaurant, general store, and the gondola – our objective. By the time we found out where to buy tickets (general store, of course), we waited only a few minutes in line for the cable car. I bagged a front seat (most people stood) and shot video of our ascent which seemed slow, but according to a sign was 2000 ft per minute.
Below us the grass and trees rolled out in an ever-changing spread. Dotted here and there were bright red tree-tops, promising splendid fall foliage in a few weeks. Tiny figures walked and biked along a
View from Jay Peak
4000 feet elevation wide path, ascending a ski run.
After one last stomach flip, we docked at the top and walked out to the wide view of unfolding tree-covered mountains, green-turquoise-blue in the light haze. Like others, we gasped at the beauty of the slopes below, took photos, took photos for others, and carefully trod about on the paths of buried rock. We wandered to various vantage points, marvelling at the distant mountain-tops and at the natural foreground of purple thistles and yellow flowers. Some people happily scrambled up the rocks behind us to a small platform at the very top of the gondola, but I felt satisfied sitting on the rock face, basking in the mild wind and thin sun.
Our descent was lit by an afternoon glow that opened up the valley floor. Full of fresh air, we were ready for a snack. Lazing on the restaurant’s sunny patio prolonged our feeling of being in a moment out of time.
Back at the camp, others had been working hard all day. They had successfully finished the plumbing and installation of a flush toilet! Great accomplishment and welcome improvement.
2023 September 3
Our expedition today was to
Dirt Church , a name recognizing the innumerable dirt-bike riders who take advantage of the many trails in the area. The Church is a brewery, and the barn is a restaurant.
The chalked list of beers required considerable reading and pondering the long inventive names. I chose their red, which was hoppy and crisp. Since all the tables were taken, we were invited to sit upstairs, which was a finely finished attic. The single large table held several board and card games for after-lunch entertainment.
We left to explore the small town of
Burke , except we never really found it. That was ok for me as I was enjoying our drive in the green countryside.
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Isabel Gibson
non-member comment
A lovely reminder that trips need not take us to exotic locations to be worthwhile. Vermont (the little I've seen) is a beautiful State. i wonder who first had the idea that led by slow stages to today's gondola.