To Middlebury

July 30, 2021

We head downstairs first thing to the self-serve breakfast, pleased at the generous assortment we find: cereal, fresh fruit, still-warm hard boiled eggs, a good variety of breads and muffins. We enjoy our meal sitting at a table looking out at the light rain falling in the streets. Afterwards we return to our room and play the waiting game with the weather for the next few hours. It’s quiet enough that we can listen to it spatter against our window. Soft at first, then a modest crescendo and a muted rumble from the distance. With a short ride today there’s no interest in stepping out again before it stops.

Finally it tapers off and dies. It may come back, but it’s time to check out of the inn so we pack up and let ourselves out.

It’s eleven by the time we finally bike out of town, and still cool enough to almost warrant a jacket. It’s dry for the moment but not a mile out of town it starts misting again; but it never amounts to anything and eventually stops for good. It’s windy too, but fortunately in our favor to start. The first few miles are relaxed and pleasant, with views across the fields to the right with foothills rising up behind them, and occasional glimpses of the great lake breaking through the trees on our left.

Soon though this all changes. The foothills gradually come closer to the highway, and the shoulder that began as a somewhat adequate width gradually tapers and eventually drops away completely as land becomes scarce. The foothills of the Adirondacks crush against our side of the road here, with dipped plates rising almost vertically just a few feet from our shoulders.

This might be OK on an empty road, but that’s not this one. Traffic is light, but large - at times very large, as logging trucks or fuel tankers pass by too close for real comfort. The drivers give us all the room they can, but just north of Port Henry there’s a terrible stretch of a mile or more where there’s no shoulder at all and limited visability because of the bends in the road as it works its way along the side of the cliffs.

There’s a button at the start of this stretch where bikers can activate a flashing light to alert drivers of a bike on the road, but we don’t notice it until we’ve passed by and we aren’t stopping to go back. On a mile long stretch of road I can’t imagine it conveys any real safety benefit anyway - drivers, if they even notice it, won’t keep that thought in mind for the whole exposed distance.

We get through by listening for cars, leaving the road when we hear them approaching, and then dashing through the next gap. It’s too bad, because it’s a dramatic stretch. I’d stop for a photo along the way if it felt safe enough, but fortunately Rachael has her GoPro on so we can go back and relive it. When you watch, imagine the sounds of the cars and trucks speeding by on the damp pavement, broken by intermittent gasps and exclamations from the videographer.

Finally, after three weeks in New York, we’ve come to a road we detest. I can’t believe the state brands it as part of a cycling route. Worst miles of the tour.

South along Lake Champlain on Route 9, a road we liked better yesterday than today. That 18 inch shoulder coming up feels a bit tight, but it gets worse yet and eventually disappears completely. At least there are no trucks.

Finally we’re through the worst of it and come to the outskirts of Port Henry. Things improve after that as the road straightens out, visibility improves, and a sliver of shoulder returns. Another two miles and we take the turnoff onto toward the bridge across Lake Champlain. Just before the bridge we stop off at the park to depressurize, check out the lighthouse there, make use of the loo, and have lunch.

Taking the time to get a good look at Port Henry.

Lunch break at Crown Point in front of the Champlain Memorial Lighthouse, a conversion of the former actual lighthouse into a memorial honoring the discoverer of Lake Champlain. I can’t say I care for it much. I wish I they’d preserved the original structure, which looks quite elegant in its old photographs,

I’ve been looking forward to riding this bridge, especially after reading up on it yesterday. It’s only ten years old, replacing the old one that looked terrifying for bicyclists. This one has fenced sidewalks where bikes can ride safely. I envision a dramatic ride across the lake, with impressive views and a close-up look at the stylish new arched bridge.

I’m not disappointed, because it’s certainly dramatic. But it’s not the ride I’d anticipated because there’s a fierce crosswind that buffets us and makes us fear that we’ll get blown off the edge. It must be 30 mph if not more. The wind is howling, and the bridge is singing in a persistent, eerie banshee wail. We both weave our way up the near side for maybe a hundred yards but finally dismount and walk the whole distance.

The new Lake Champlain Bridge opened in 2011, replacing the older one that was demolished two years earlier.

It’s good that the old bridge was replaced, because it looked from the photos like a death trap for cyclists. I doubt they were even allowed crossing. Rachael is walking btw, not because it’s too steep but because the severe, gusty 30 mph crosswind made cycling feel too risky. We both walked across the entire length.

New state! New for this tour at least, but we’ve been here before, on our first long distance tour 32 years ago to celebrate our first anniversary.

On Grand Isle, June 1989. A lot has changed since the last time we rolled into Vermont. Still the same bright smile and burnsides though. And a beer to start the words flowing.

Vermont is beautiful, as expected and remembered. It’s better this time though - we’re here in a better season, we’re not tenting in the rain, and the black flies are gone. We enjoy an uneventful but beautiful ride the last fifteen miles to Middlebury. We’ll be here two nights, so we’ll stop here for now and have a real look around tomorrow.

Looking east to the Adirondacks from our latest state.

Heading east. Middlebury is about eight miles and a few ridges away still.

Vermont is very green. It’s not just the mountains.

Over the last ridge, descending to Middlebury.

Video sound track: Livin’ on a Prayer, by the Dallas String Quartet

The Swift House Inn, our elegant home for the next two nights.

What a great idea, waving a flag to urge the cars to stop instead of putting up a light. So green! Unfortunately the can only had cigarette butts and waving one had no effect.

By the entrance to Fire and Ice Restaurant.

Fire and Ice Restaurant is another museum, crammed with eccentric junk.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 36 miles, 2,600’; for the tour: 2,332 miles, 71,800’

Today's ride: 36 miles (58 km)
Total: 2,332 miles (3,753 km)

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Suzanne GibsonLooks like that was a harrowing ride with no shoulder! I think I might even prefer mud and roots!
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2 years ago

Bob DistelbergAs the sign said, "Welcome to Vermont". Sorry about the rough road conditions on the first part of your ride. I wish I could say that you won't encounter any of those kind of roads in Vermont, but I'd be lying.
I love Middlebury, and we've stayed at the Swift House Inn. It's a great choice for a two night stay. Enjoy!
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2 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Bob DistelbergThanks, Bob. Looks like a great little state you’ve got yourself here. And thanks for your recommendation months ago! It’s your doing that we came by this way.
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2 years ago