65 miles
Pownal to Lake St. Catherine State Park, Vermont
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We started out the day riding along backcountry roads for ten easy miles into Bennington. Check out those clouds. Look like rain?
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Our plan was to stop in Bennington for a second breakfast. But we only found a coffee shop in the downtown area, no place that served a real breakfast. So we asked a few pedestrians for recommendations. Hands down, we should go to the Blue Benn, just down the road in the direction we were heading. Along the way we saw a local cafe, Two Brews, with a large front window overlooking a patio filled with tables and folded umbrellas. I pulled into the parking lot, Rob right behind me.
I said, "Let's check this place out."
"You go inside. I'll stay with the bikes."
I opened the door onto a bright and spacious room with half a dozen wooden tables of varying sizes, all empty. Not a single customer at nine o'clock in the morning - not a good selling point. But with a name like Two Brews what would you expect? It's not like people are looking to have beer for breakfast.*
Back outside, I said to Rob, "There's no one there. Let's check out the other place."
So we continued on in search of the Blue Benn, and, sure enough, there it was just down the road, an old-timey diner. I love old-timey diners. They're right up there with ferry rides. But today it was closed. So we went back to Two Brews.
I said, "Let's check this place out."
"You go inside. I'll stay with the bikes."
I opened the door onto a bright and spacious room with half a dozen wooden tables of varying sizes, all empty. Not a single customer at nine o'clock in the morning - not a good selling point. But with a name like Two Brews what would you expect? It's not like people are looking to have beer for breakfast.*
Back outside, I said to Rob, "There's no one there. Let's check out the other place."
So we continued on in search of the Blue Benn, and, sure enough, there it was just down the road, an old-timey diner. I love old-timey diners. They're right up there with ferry rides. But today it was closed. So we went back to Two Brews.
Just as we arrived it started raining. Before heading inside we got out our rain gear and covered our panniers.
We had to order at the counter where the only items on the breakfast menu were egg sandwiches. I'd been looking forward to a full breakfast with table service. I fought off a grumpy attitude as I tried to find something more exciting than the standard bagel with bacon, egg, and cheese.
"Are you okay staying here?" I asked Rob.
"I'm fine." Rob is way more easy-going than me. He's just happy to have good food.
At least we didn't have to wait in line. The only thing that looked at all interesting was the Ranchero, a wrap with eggs, avocado, black beans, Vermont cheddar cheese, and pico sauce.
"I'll have the Ranchero," I said.
"Make that two," said Rob.
We fixed ourselves mugs of Earl Gray tea with half-and-half cream and sat down at a big oval table by the front window where we could watch the rain pour down on our bikes. I embraced my mug in both hands, feeling its warmth, happy to be inside and dry.
"It's going to stop before we finish our breakfast," I said.
Rob replied, "Let's hope so."
Our orders arrived and I took a bite of a very ordinary-looking burrito. And was immediately taken aback by a delicious medley of familiar textures and flavors combined with a unique and surprising taste.
"Wow."
"Are you enjoying yours as much as I'm enjoying mine?" asked Rob.
"There's something about the sauce that is just amazing," I said, savoring every bite.
Most of the time when I go out to eat the ambience is pleasant and my meal tastes pretty good and the company is entertaining. When I think back on my meal I remember I had a nice time but I can't say what I ate. Then there are meals like the breakfast I had at Two Brews, one that I can still taste as I write this. Who cares if the menu has limited choices, if what I ordered hits all the superlatives? The next time I'm in Bennington I'm heading to Two Brews for breakfast.
With its amazing food and pleasant atmosphere I became invested in wanting the owners to succeed in their business endeavor. I felt better for them when other customers trickled in while we ate. And while writing this I found reviews for Blue Benn, the diner everyone recommended, on the internet. The old-timey atmosphere is evidently a bigger draw than the food. Lucky for us it was closed.
It was still raining when we got back on our bikes, but not for long.
Out of Bennington we got on Route 7A, a leisurely road for those tourists who want to see Vermont but aren't in any hurry to get anywhere. Tourist shops advertised local honey and maple syrup. We rode by small locally-owned motels and restaurants. There were plenty of places to stop if we needed a place to get in out of the rain. But the rain had stopped and the sun was shining so we just enjoyed the riding and didn't stop in anywhere.
We passed fields filled with rows of hay bales. When we rode alongside a herd of cows Rob called out, "Hey, guys!" We saw old barns and silos sitting atop the rolling hills.
Riding right behind me, Rob said, "I think we should find a motel." I didn't argue. It didn't look like the rain would be stopping soon. But we were no longer on Route 7A, with its many stops for tourists. We were on Route 30 with no tourist traps or motels, just fast riding and picturesque farms.
Then it started getting lighter, and the rain let up. We stopped for a short break on the covered porch of a town building and watched the clouds clear out.
We had to order at the counter where the only items on the breakfast menu were egg sandwiches. I'd been looking forward to a full breakfast with table service. I fought off a grumpy attitude as I tried to find something more exciting than the standard bagel with bacon, egg, and cheese.
"Are you okay staying here?" I asked Rob.
"I'm fine." Rob is way more easy-going than me. He's just happy to have good food.
At least we didn't have to wait in line. The only thing that looked at all interesting was the Ranchero, a wrap with eggs, avocado, black beans, Vermont cheddar cheese, and pico sauce.
"I'll have the Ranchero," I said.
"Make that two," said Rob.
We fixed ourselves mugs of Earl Gray tea with half-and-half cream and sat down at a big oval table by the front window where we could watch the rain pour down on our bikes. I embraced my mug in both hands, feeling its warmth, happy to be inside and dry.
"It's going to stop before we finish our breakfast," I said.
Rob replied, "Let's hope so."
Our orders arrived and I took a bite of a very ordinary-looking burrito. And was immediately taken aback by a delicious medley of familiar textures and flavors combined with a unique and surprising taste.
"Wow."
"Are you enjoying yours as much as I'm enjoying mine?" asked Rob.
"There's something about the sauce that is just amazing," I said, savoring every bite.
Most of the time when I go out to eat the ambience is pleasant and my meal tastes pretty good and the company is entertaining. When I think back on my meal I remember I had a nice time but I can't say what I ate. Then there are meals like the breakfast I had at Two Brews, one that I can still taste as I write this. Who cares if the menu has limited choices, if what I ordered hits all the superlatives? The next time I'm in Bennington I'm heading to Two Brews for breakfast.
With its amazing food and pleasant atmosphere I became invested in wanting the owners to succeed in their business endeavor. I felt better for them when other customers trickled in while we ate. And while writing this I found reviews for Blue Benn, the diner everyone recommended, on the internet. The old-timey atmosphere is evidently a bigger draw than the food. Lucky for us it was closed.
It was still raining when we got back on our bikes, but not for long.
Out of Bennington we got on Route 7A, a leisurely road for those tourists who want to see Vermont but aren't in any hurry to get anywhere. Tourist shops advertised local honey and maple syrup. We rode by small locally-owned motels and restaurants. There were plenty of places to stop if we needed a place to get in out of the rain. But the rain had stopped and the sun was shining so we just enjoyed the riding and didn't stop in anywhere.
We passed fields filled with rows of hay bales. When we rode alongside a herd of cows Rob called out, "Hey, guys!" We saw old barns and silos sitting atop the rolling hills.
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We cycled through pastoral scenes like this one. And look at that blue sky.
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| In the afternoon I stopped to wait for Rob at this old quarry past Manchester. There was a parking lot filled with cars and not just because it was an interesting historical site. It turned out to be the local swimming hole, everyone enjoying a refreshing swim on a hot summer's day. When Rob caught up I said, "I'm going for a swim." I quickly dug out my bathing suit and went to change in one of the porta-johns. It looked like it was going to rain any minute. That's probably why Rob decided to give it a pass. |
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| I jumped in and quickly got out, but that was all I needed. The water felt terrific - cool and refreshing. By the time I had changed back into my riding clothes and went back to take this picture everyone had cleared out. The rain started coming down. |
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I needn't have dried off after my swim. The rain came down so hard it wasn't long before we were drenched. But how lucky we were that we got to ride through such beautiful countryside, on fine roads with wide shoulders and very few cars. Don't you wish you could have joined us?
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Then it started getting lighter, and the rain let up. We stopped for a short break on the covered porch of a town building and watched the clouds clear out.
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| With no motels to choose from and the rain stopping, it looked like we'd be camping after all. |
With years of camping in state parks behind us, we knew we'd be lucky to get a campsite on a Friday night in the middle of summer, especially when it was arguably a holiday weekend with July 4 on the following Tuesday. But many state parks have a policy of not turning away bicyclists. In Vermont they'll set aside a few campsites for people who are special like us. I know because one of the rangers told me.
We arrived at St. Catherine Lake State Park after 65 miles of riding. When we checked in the ranger said she had two campsites left and I asked her to give us whichever one she thought was the nicest.
We found our campsite at the end of a cul-de-sac crowded with cars, campers, tents, and people. I counted three cars in each of the three nearby campsites. Folks were starting campfires and there were plenty of coolers sitting around the picnic tables and fire pits. It looked like it was going to be a long night of partying, not at all promising for a good night's sleep.
Rob started setting up the tent while I walked to the bathroom. On my way I noticed a number of empty, spacious sites and thought, maybe we can get a different one. When I got back to our site Rob had the tent mostly up. I said, "I think we should check out that other site, if it's still available."
Gotta give the guy credit. He didn't argue, just said, "Okay." He's always flexible with my fickleness. I got on my bike, rode back to the entrance station. I said to the ranger, "You put us in party central."
She said, "Oh, yeah, I didn't think of that. But it really is the nicer site." And she showed me on her map where the other one was, off by itself next to the trash bins. It might not be scenic, but those trash bins sure wouldn't keep us up all night. We took it.
And we had a peaceful evening. After setting up our tent (again) and getting hot showers we bicycled to the swimming area and ate dinner overlooking the lake. It was so much nicer than a motel would have been. We were really glad it had stopped raining.
So, if you are counting, that makes four times we got caught in rain, or three days (out of seven), depending on how you want to keep score.
[*When I told my daughter, Kylee, this story she said, "Mom, people brew coffee." Well, duh, they also brew tea, I guess. But with all the craft brewing of beers going on, that's all I think about. I love craft beers. But not at 9 o'clock in the morning.]
We arrived at St. Catherine Lake State Park after 65 miles of riding. When we checked in the ranger said she had two campsites left and I asked her to give us whichever one she thought was the nicest.
We found our campsite at the end of a cul-de-sac crowded with cars, campers, tents, and people. I counted three cars in each of the three nearby campsites. Folks were starting campfires and there were plenty of coolers sitting around the picnic tables and fire pits. It looked like it was going to be a long night of partying, not at all promising for a good night's sleep.
Rob started setting up the tent while I walked to the bathroom. On my way I noticed a number of empty, spacious sites and thought, maybe we can get a different one. When I got back to our site Rob had the tent mostly up. I said, "I think we should check out that other site, if it's still available."
Gotta give the guy credit. He didn't argue, just said, "Okay." He's always flexible with my fickleness. I got on my bike, rode back to the entrance station. I said to the ranger, "You put us in party central."
She said, "Oh, yeah, I didn't think of that. But it really is the nicer site." And she showed me on her map where the other one was, off by itself next to the trash bins. It might not be scenic, but those trash bins sure wouldn't keep us up all night. We took it.
And we had a peaceful evening. After setting up our tent (again) and getting hot showers we bicycled to the swimming area and ate dinner overlooking the lake. It was so much nicer than a motel would have been. We were really glad it had stopped raining.
So, if you are counting, that makes four times we got caught in rain, or three days (out of seven), depending on how you want to keep score.
[*When I told my daughter, Kylee, this story she said, "Mom, people brew coffee." Well, duh, they also brew tea, I guess. But with all the craft brewing of beers going on, that's all I think about. I love craft beers. But not at 9 o'clock in the morning.]
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| We spent the day in the southwest corner of Vermont. |
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And had very enjoyable riding on rolling hills, with an overall loss of elevation. No wonder the riding, even in the rain, was so fun. |
Gotta love those green pastures!
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