Not the peak color I was hoping for, but still a great time.

(Continued from Part 5: On the Road to Vermont)

My friends Tom and Tammy are among my oldest friends and that’s who I stayed with in Vermont.

But first, as you might expect, some back story.

The BBS Days and Beyond

I met Tom back in my BBS days — yes, I ran a multi-line networked bulletin board system (think prehistoric Internet) out of my home starting in 1989 when I bought the computer that changed my life. (I thought I’d blogged about the computer changing my life and hoped to link to that post, but a quick search yielded no results. I’ll have to blog about it in the future.)

At the time, Tom was working in a family owned business selling tombstones in a greenhouse just a few miles away. He ran a multiline BBS out of his office there. I honestly don’t remember how we met, but when I left my full-time job to become a freelance writer and computer trainer/consultant, I’d often spend free time visiting with him and talking about computers. Back then, I had an Apple Macintosh IIcx and I think he had a IIci. (I’d later run my BBS on a Mac SE/30, which was perfect for the task.

Through Tom, I became part of a computer “super user” network that included him and other BBS SysOps: Mike, Ralph, and Zeke. Mike was especially well connected. He worked for a design firm that did a lot of cutting edge things with computers and, thus, had access to all the latest and greatest hardware and software. We’d occasionally drive down to his office to gawk at his new toys and play with the latest offerings from Adobe and other companies, many of which no longer exist. (Aldus comes to mind.)

I was self-taught on computers and had managed to get a per diem gig teaching computer applications: Mac OS, Microsoft Word, Microsoft Excel, and Lotus 1-2-3. I think being so well connected with other computer superusers helped make that possible.

Anyway, time went on. Tom married Tammy. My future wasband and I went to the wedding. They sat us at the same table as Mike, who was so white he could be albino and another guy I didn’t know who happened to be the blackest black guy I’ve ever seen. Of course, he and Mike sat side by side. I wish I had a picture. (Isn’t it funny the things you remember?)

Tom and Tammy moved to Vermont not long after that. Tom was into winter sports and I think he was as fed up as I was becoming with the traffic, congestion, and expense of living in the New York City Metro area. He telecommuted to a new job with a big company. He’d gone beyond mere “superuser” status and was a networking expert. He could work from home with a fast Internet connection and he did, making occasional trips down to New Jersey when he needed to.

I didn’t see him at all after his move, but we kept in touch via email and a little Twitter and later text messaging.

Meanwhile, they had kids. Three boys, all named with the initial T.

I moved to Arizona and invited them to visit. But I could understand why they didn’t. Airfare isn’t cheap when you have to buy five tickets. And then there’s that school thing. They like winter sports so they couldn’t come in the winter. And who wants to go to Arizona on summer vacation?

We continued to keep in touch throughout my crazy divorce. He was extremely supportive, providing me with a lot of useful computer information when I needed it.

It was around then that Tom kept suggesting that I come stay with them for a while in Vermont. The boys were away at college (already!) and he had plenty of room in his big, old farmhouse. It was definitely an inviting idea. I hadn’t been to Vermont in years and I remembered how amazing the fall colors had been on my last trip. I envisioned another trip with my camera. We have a nice autumn here, but no autumn compares to Vermont’s.

Still, I couldn’t get a trip together. There was always something else I had to do in the autumn. But this year, I decided to go for it. After playing around with a calendar and his schedule, we decided I’d come during the first week in October.

At the T’s

I rolled up to Tom and Tammy’s house in the Maserati in late afternoon on October 1. It was overcast and wet. Tom came right out to greet me and Penny. It was really good to see him — for the first time in at least 20 years.

After chatting a bit and unwinding from my drive, he gave me the tour of the three-story wood frame house that dates back to the 1800s. They’d put me in Penny in one of two dedicated guest rooms on the second floor with the shared bathroom right outside my door. How nice!

Tammy was busy with something that evening, so Tom and I went out to get some dinner. Along the way, he showed me a few local highlights, including Singleton’s General Store, which features “guns and liquor.” (I had to buy a tee shirt.) We ate dinner at Mr. Darcy’s Bar and Grill. It was good.

Afterwards, back at the house, we just relaxed in the living room with his two big chocolate labs stretched out on the sofa with us. I was pooped and went to bed early.

The weather was kind of crappy the next day — overcast and rainy — and I had no problem amusing myself indoors while Tammy, a lawyer, and Tom worked in their offices. I’d brought a handful of stones and some jewelry-making supplies and tools. I sat at the kitchen table and made two pendants while Tom and Tammy occasionally stopped by to see what I was up to. I used Periscope to broadcast me creating a piece of jewelry and, although it didn’t have many viewers, I kept it running until the end. The Ts have excellent high speed internet, so I know I wasn’t straining anything.

Sometime during the day, we went to The Vermont Country Store, which exists to showcase Vermont products and sell tourists stuff they really don’t need. Yeah, I know I sound critical/cynical, but when you’ve spent enough time in tourist destinations, you really get a feel for that kind of shop. There was a lot of merchandise, including more candy and old-fashioned toys — like the ones we played with when I was a kid! — than I’d every seen under one roof. There was also clothes and linens, and kitchen stuff. And maple syrup, of course. One of the nice things was being able to taste three different colors of maple syrup, side by side — there really is a noticeable difference! It was a neat place to browse.

Tammy made dinner and we had a relaxing evening sitting around with the dogs and chatting. I didn’t feel guilty for doing almost nothing all day because I knew the weather would be better later in the week. Besides, it was nice to just take it easy in a comfortable place. I’d been on the move almost non stop since arriving in the New York area the previous Saturday.

Exploring the Forest on ATVs

Tom took Wednesday off. He pulled two ATVs out of his shed and fired them up. We mounted up, with Penny wrapped in blankets in a basket in front of mine, and headed out on back roads and trails into the adjacent national forest. The trails were very rough in parts, forcing me to slow down and remember my ATV training from about 20 years ago. I was able to follow Tom, but a few times he got way in front of me. It was a lot of fun to be challenged (for a change); my ATV riding in Washington is limited and local.

He showed me the foundations of an old farmhouse long gone and nearly forgotten in the forest and a lake his boys like to camp at, and an old irrigation setup with a dam. Everything was accessible only via narrow forest trails surrounded by relatively new growth trees showing their early autumn colors.

One trail ended at this old cement dam that holds back a small pond for feeding an irrigation pipe.

It wasn’t raining but the forest was pretty wet and the trail was muddy in spots. I kept a sharp lookout for mushrooms — I was hoping to find some chanterelles — and I actually found some that could be edible. But “could be” isn’t the same as “are definitely” so I left them behind, not wanting to potentially poison my hosts or myself.

After asking me if I was up for a ride on a really rugged road, Tom led me back the way we’d come and then up a different road and trail. It started out the same as the others and then got very rough, with lots of big rocks, tree roots, and fallen branches across the trail. I followed as closely as I could without slipping out of my comfort zone. Suddenly, the trail ended at the edge of someone’s grassy yard and I admit I was a little surprised when Tom continued across it, hugging the edge of the grass. Then more trail and finally a turn with a climb up a short hill.

There was a log cabin there and we walked up the steps to sit on the porch. Tom and his family had been there many times; he knew the three men who had built it by hand. We looked out over the hillside, into a bank of clouds, and Tom assured me that there was usually an excellent view down into the valley and mountains beyond.

We were still sitting there when a small SUV drove up from the other direction and an older couple got out. One of the builder/owners. It felt awkward for only a few minutes; they quickly realized who Tom was. We were soon chatting with them about the place and when they unlocked it, they invited me in for a tour. It was a really basic place with two big rooms and a sleeping loft. Completely off the grid, it didn’t have any electric appliances.

As we chatted, the clouds lifted a bit to give us glimpses of the valley beyond. But they never lifted enough to give us a good view of the valley.

The clouds lifted just enough to give us an idea of how amazing the view from the cabin’s porch might be on a clear day.

We headed back not long after that, taking it easy at the house. Tammy, who’d gone out for a meeting, returned with barbecue takeout from their favorite place. It was good.

Day Trip to Manchester

I was on my own the next day and that was fine. I decided to drive down to Manchester, with a stop for breakfast along the way. I also wanted to check out the Dorset Quarry, which I’d read a little about online.

So I headed out, dropping down off the mountain into Wallingford, where I picked up Route 140. A Google search before departing had me aiming for a little restaurant called Dorset Rising, but I soon reached a section of road work where the detours put me on progressively more rugged roads. Worried about the Maserati, I made my way back to the main roads and somehow wound up on Route 7. So I took that all the way down to Manchester and then came back up Route 30 to Dorset. I passed the quarry along the way, but my primary goal was breakfast so I kept going.

Although Dorset Rising had a nice outdoor dining area where I could have eaten with Penny, it was kind of nasty out — too cool to enjoy a meal outdoors. So I left her in the car and went inside alone. A while later, I was seated at a comfy table with a latte and a breakfast burrito in front of me. They had a nice selection of baked goods but I resisted the urge to take some with me. (We — well, mostly I — had been picking away at those Italian pastries since my arrival. They weren’t nearly as good after two days in a cooler as they had been fresh. Lesson learned.) Instead, I got an iced tea to go and got back on the road.

Dorset Quarry was right down the road and I pulled into the parking lot. The quarry has an impressive place in history: when it first opened in 1785, it was America’s first marble quarry. It supplied marble to there New York Public Library and other buildings in New York City and Washington DC.

I grabbed Penny’s leash and she and I left the car for a walk around what had become a popular local swimming hole. Of course, it was nearly deserted that day — certainly no swimmers — but I could imagine it being a fun spot on a hot day if it wasn’t too crowded.

Dorset Quarry is a popular swimming hole — but not in early October.

We tried to walk around the north side of the quarry but the trail soon wandered off into the woods in a direction I didn’t want to go. So we backtracked to the road and walked over to the south side, past huge marble blocks left behind from operations long ago.

As I walked, I looked down at the ground along the path. I was looking for stones — small pieces of marble that I might be able to polish into cabochons. I wound up with about a dozen of them, all smaller than my two thumbs held side-to-side. I filled my jacket pocket.

We reached the place where a creek fed the pond. There was a bridge over the creek and a ladder coming out of the water. I don’t know how deep the water was; I couldn’t see the bottom.

I wandered around and took pictures. Then we wandered back to the car.

We continued on to Manchester, with a quick stop at the Kitchen Store at JK Adams. I was looking for a gift for my house sitter, who really likes to cook. Nothing struck me so I kept going.

A short while later, I was pulling back into Manchester Center and parking in the lot behind Northshire Bookstore, which Tom had recommended. That was, of course, my first stop and I, of course, left with books in hand. Penny and I walked up one side of Main Street and down the other. I wound up buying a maple syrup sampler for my house sitter. (I later kicked myself for not buying myself syrup; I erroneously thought I still had some at home.)

We walked back to the car and stowed my rather heavy purchases in the trunk, then headed down Depot Street, where there were a handful of outlet stores. I was looking for the “wood shop” Tom had told me about. Before I found it, I stopped in at Eddie Bauer, where they had a storewide sale, and bought myself a few shirts and a scarf. I also bought a scarf with pictures of a pug dog on it for my friend Janet, who travels with her aging pug, Lulu. Then Manchester Woodcraft, where they had a huge selection of reasonably priced items made of wood. Try as I might, however, I didn’t find anything I couldn’t go home without.

Then it was back to the car again, stopping only a moment to read the Thomas Jefferson quotes under a Jefferson monument. One of them really stuck with me and I took a photo to share it on Twitter:

Men by their nature are divided into two parties: those who fear and distrust the people, and those who identify themselves with the people, have confidence in them, cherish and consider them as the most honest and safe depository of the public interest.

You might be able to guess which party I’m in.

We continued south on route 7A, past the Orvis company headquarters and the American Museum of Fly Fishing. That got me thinking of Janet again — she’s really into fishing — but I didn’t stop.

Tom had suggested going to the top of Equinox Mountain to take in the views from up there, but when I arrived at the turn, I discovered that it was a toll road. Not willing to spend $20 for the privilege of driving up a mountain road to take in the view on a cloudy day, I skipped it.

I did stop, however, at the Arlington Dairy Bar where I took a photo and tweeted “Will brake for ice cream.” I had a shake and Penny had a small dish of vanilla ice cream. Then we were on our way again.

Will brake for ice cream.

We kept going, eventually reaching Bennington. By then, the weather had turned bad and I wasn’t interested in dealing with traffic to maybe find a place to get out and walk around. So I followed the signs for Route 9, which cut across the national forest on a scenic road that climbed up one side of the mountain and down the other. There wasn’t much to see in Wilmington, which was on the other side of the mountain, so I hopped on Route 100 and headed north. More pleasant driving, although the weather was either gray or drizzling rain the whole time.

By that time, it was late afternoon and I felt done exploring. I think the weather had a lot to do with it. But I did make one more stop: the Crowley Cheese Company, which was a few miles off the main road west of Okemo Mountain Resort. I tasted a bunch of cheeses and wound up buying two for my brother.

From there, it was back to the T’s.

Another guest joined us late that evening and, true to form, I’ve forgotten his name. He came up from New Jersey to do a photography job on Saturday. The four of us spent the evening watching a few episodes of a weird show on Netflix, sitting on the sofas with the dogs lying all over us. The newcomer wound up in the guest room next to mine.

Rutland, Okemo Mountain, and an Old Cemetery

The next day, I went with Tammy into Rutland, VT. She had a yoga class there and I had to visit the post office.

My big piece of luggage was already pretty heavy and I knew that if I added the books and rocks, it would likely weigh more than the 50 pounds allowed by the airline. The solution was to cram all that stuff into a flat rate box and send it home via Priority Mail. So after dropping Tammy off at yoga, I went in search of the post office and took care of that. I also sent Janet her scarf.

With a little time before I had to pick up Tammy, I found a car wash. I had a moment of fright when I saw brushes in the wash tunnel in front of me, but the guys working the controls flipped a few switching and nothing other than water touched the car. I could have made it look a lot better if I had a rag to dry it off afterwards, but I didn’t. Still, it was better than before I’d had it washed. I figured I’d wash it again in New Jersey before handing it off to my brother.

When I picked up Tammy, we weren’t in a rush to get back so we drove into town for some breakfast at one of the coffee shops there. I left Penny parked outside near the car. I had a great breakfast sandwich and managed to muster enough willpower to skip the pastry I wanted for dessert.

We drove back and Tammy got back to work. Tom was already working up in his office. The day had turned nice and I was ready for another day trip. This time, my destination was the Okemo Mountain Resort. Tom had told me that I could drive almost all the way up to the top of the mountain, hike a little more, and visit a fire tower at the summit. The weather looked good enough for a hike so I headed out around noon with Penny.

The drive up the mountain was mostly smooth with just one big pothole I almost didn’t avoid. At the top was a gravel parking lot with about ten other cars and space to back in the Maserati. I grabbed Penny’s leash and got out with her. Together, we walked through an open car gate and up a gravel road. Up is the appropriate word. The road climbed, sometimes steeply.

Tom had told me that the fire tower wasn’t visible from the road, but if I walked to the ski lift I’d be able to see it in the forest from there. But when I got closer, I found a small marked trail. I followed the sign onto a narrow trail into the woods.

Penny ran ahead, as she does. Some hikers coming back thought she was a stray and tried unsuccessfully to catch her. Then they saw me and told me what they’d thought and done. We all laughed. It was that kind of mellow, pleasant day.

We reached the fire tower and, because the stairs looked so iffy, I picked Penny up and carried up with me. It was only five flights and each flight was narrower than the one before it. I came up through the trap door and found myself in a small area with a wooden floor and glassless windows all around. I put Penny down and took in the views in all directions. It really was a gorgeous day.

Here’s the view to the east, toward Ludlow. As you can see, it wasn’t quite peak color yet, although I think the cold rain that had been coming through Vermont may have spoiled the autumn leaf season.

I took photos in most directions, including down toward the ski lifts. Then, hearing some people coming through the woods toward the tower, I picked up Penny and headed back down.

In the forest, a couple was stopped on the trail. The husband pointed out a cool looking little snake escaping into the underbrush while his wife absolutely freaked out. I tried not to laugh as I passed them and headed back to the road.

We walked around for a while by the ski lifts. I took some more photos.

View from the top of one ski lift.

I went into the woods looking for mushrooms and found a bunch — but not the ones I hoped to find. I played with the portrait mode on my iPhone and found myself disappointed again at how limited it was for subjects other than people’s faces.

 
The obligatory mushroom photos. I took more than a dozen but I’ll only bore you with two.

After poking around in the woods for a while, we went back the car and headed down the mountain. I stopped along the way at a view point where a couple were having some wine and cheese at a picnic table. We chatted for a while (of course) and I discovered that they were from New Jersey. They tried to talk me into have lunch at the restaurant near the bottom of the road, but when I drove past a few minutes later, I knew it wasn’t for me. Instead, I drove into Ludlow, parked, and had lunch with a hard cider outside Mojo Cafe, which I highly recommend.

After a quick walk in town, we got back into the car and headed back to the T’s.

I did make one other short trip before day’s end: to that old cemetery down the road. It was full of wonderful old tombstones, many of them very ornate. The oldest one I saw dated back to 1809, making the cemetery over 200 years old. I walked among the stones, taking photos and thinking about the people who had lived and died — sometimes quite young — in the area. There was one row of stones with the same last name repeated over and over. You could follow the history of the family as you walked in one direction or the other.

 
Two of the dozens of interesting old tombstones in this 200+ year old cemetery.

Later that evening, we were back in Ludlow for dinner. The plan had been to have dinner at Homestyle Hostel, but the place was mobbed and we couldn’t get a table. After a few craft cocktails across the street at Main and Mountain Bar, we wound up at another restaurant a bit farther down the road. I honestly can’t remember what it was called — maybe I had too many cocktails? We had a good dinner and I picked up the tab, mostly because I really appreciated having such a great week with my friends in Vermont.

Last Day

The whole time I was in Vermont, I was pretty vague about when I would leave. Originally, I was going to leave on Thursday; I had some friends in New York State I was hoping to visit for a day or two on my way back to New Jersey. But I was enjoying myself so much that when Tom and Tammy told me to stay through the weekend and my brother reported that he had to work on Saturday and go to a match on Sunday, I agreed to stay until Saturday. I figured I’d spend Saturday evening and Sunday with my friends in New York.

Saturday was the day of the farmer’s market in Rutland. Tom, Tammy, and I headed out together in the morning to see what they had that we wanted. It was a nice farmers market, even that late in the season, with plenty of produce and baked goods and other items. I wound up buying a package of frozen spaetzle, a German pasta that my grandfather and dad used to make when I was a kid. (And no, it wasn’t nearly as good as theirs was.) We wound up walking into town and having breakfast at the same place Tammy and I had eaten the day before. I had the same breakfast sandwich since it had been so good.

We headed back to the T’s after that. I’d already repacked my bags, setting aside enough clothes in a smaller bag for my overnight stay in New York. I packed everything into the car’s trunk, loaded Penny on board, and said goodbye to my hosts.

It had been a great six-day stay in Vermont, despite the less than perfect weather and the disappointing foliage. There’s nothing like reconnecting with old friends in person. I just hope I have the opportunity one day to return the favor and host them on a trip out west.

It was a little after noon when I finally left. I had a long drive ahead of me, but it felt good to be heading toward my next destination.

(Continued)