Day 3: Orford, NH to Middlebury, VT, 78 miles

Now that's more like it! What a beautiful day! Temps in the low 70s, fluffy clouds, lots of sunshine, low humidity. It was a day of big climbs, but they were MUCH easier in the cool.

It was foggy and damp when I left The Pastures at 7:00 am. The wet clothes and shoes were exactly as wet this morning as they had been when I went to bed. Sigh. The best way to dry clothes on a bike tour is to wear them, so I pulled on the squishy shoes and dripping socks, wet arm covers, and wet long sleeved hi-viz shirt (over a dry short sleeved shirt and dry shorts), and set out. 

I followed the routine that Jon and I have always preferred, namely riding for 10 miles or so, to the first breakfast place or convenience store. Today it was a convenience store on the Vermont side of the Connecticut River. The ride along the river was quite lovely, even including some dirt road, which I liked. I passed some pretty fancy houses; probably Boston fat cats avoiding paying taxes. After my passable convenience store coffee and unspeakable donuts (I bought six and threw five away) I set off, up out of the river valley and into the start of the Green Mountains. The first climb up to Thetford Hill was a good warm up. Five hundred feet or so, some which required my granny gear. But I was feeling pretty good.

After some lovely riding along rivers, the climbing started again before South Strafford. I eventually gained 1000 feet in about five miles. As usual, the downhill was fun. Right before Sharon, it got REALLY steep. I was glad I was heading west not east. Many of these climbs are steeper on the western side. Note to self, don't go west to east.

Road art in the Green Mountains

At Sharon, I hit the White River, which I would follow for much of the day. It got smaller and smaller as I went higher and higher. It's always fun to get to know a river that way.

I had a quite tasty chicken salad sandwich at a convenience (where I learned the storms yesterday had been much more severe in Vermont than where I had been in NH, knocking out power all over the place. I saw armies of utility trucks, literally dozens in a row, presumably heading to the various power outages.

The roads along the White River were both awful and nice. In spots, they were the main route to somewhere, so there was lots of truck traffic. But after that route peeled off, it quieted down. Just lots of steady climbing, with occasional quick steeps, until Rochester. This is obviously tourist country, if not tourist season, yet. I was lucky, because I missed the crowds, which must be formidable, in order to support all the coffee shops and B and Bs. I bought pasta salad and a quart of sports drink, found a park bench, took off my still squishyt shoes, released my wrinkled feet from their wet encasement, and had a little picnic in the park, getting up my energy for the last climb of the day up Middlebury Gap.

The White River in VT

It was as bad as I feared, but much better than it would have been if still hot (or if I were going west-east). It was four miles of gentle climbing followed by two miles of straight up. I plodded along in my granny gear (which on the clown bike is absurdly easy). I was going so slowly that walking would have been as fast. Although I did stop several times on that final push, I never walked. In fact, when I slowed my pace down to the point where the bike nearly fell over, I found that it wasn't so bad. Agonizingly slow, but doable. Summiting was a triumph, particularly because I knew that I was done climbing for the day. Just 12 miles down hill remained.

This time, as was enjoying the downhill ride, I judged that most of the west-east ascent was not too much steeper than what I had come up, except for the very first part out of the valley, which was absurdly steep. I really don't know if I could have made it up that initial 15% (according the sign, but it seemed steeper) incline.

I felt a little sad leaving the mountains for the last time. I love mountains, and I hate leaving them. Particularly for the noisy, trafficky Lake Champlain valley.

I think riding on the busy loweland highway discouraged me. I was suddenly feeling ready to chuck it all, to catch a train in Ticonderoga and head back to Rochester and my car. And the thought of heading out into the wild and wooly Adirondaks was equally daunting. I know how empty they are, at least this time of year, when there are no tourists. Perhaps I should just declare victory and end the trip?

I decided to put off deciding until Ticonderoga in the morning. The train was scheduled to go through at 2:30 pm, so I had plenty of time to decide.

Delicious "Michigan Style" chili dog at the A and W next door to my motel. (The motel had signs plastered everywhere: "Absolutely no bikes in your room! And that means you, Bruce Taggart, PhD." I decided to play dumb and put my bike in my room. Even more delicious than the chili dog was the chocolate milk shake. OMG it was good. Jon would have had a root beer float. I opted not to honor him by having one.

As I was reviewing the trip and thinking about ways of doing it without a route guide, I noticed in Trip Advisor that several people had raised the alarm about BED BUGS in this Middlebury motel. I noticed the plastic mattress cover (part of a bed bug treatment), but I didn't make the connection. I didn't notice any bed bugs . . . but just to be safe, I quarantined all my gear in the garage when I got home. No bed bugs in a campground, at least none that you didn't bring yourself. Note to self.