East or West, Home Is Best

Every day last week found Gavin and Arwen anxiously reporting to their teachers and classmates how many days until we went to Vermont. With two years of beautiful images and fun memories to fuel them – to say nothing of the promise of friends to play with – anticipation levels were at an all-time high.

Whereas in past years we’ve read aloud together in the car, Gavin and I delved into our own personal reading – he into a trio of Nate the Great books that are his current love, me into essays on women in the Great Depression for an upcoming class presentation. As we headed north the colors became more vibrant. Before long we arrived in Massachusetts and the first stage of the official reason for the trip. We hiked into the autumn forest, leaves crunching underfoot. Scrambling up and across moss-covered rocks, we searched out the now-leaf-covered sensors Chad planted a year ago. Gavin and Arwen were each proud to scout out an illusive sensor we otherwise would have missed. We were thrilled to find all ten out of ten.

Farther along our journey we stopped at the Polka Dot Café, where the booths still sport the same springs that the place opened with decades ago under some long-forgotten name. Chad took Gavin and Arwen for a peek at the steam engine next door while we waited for our food. No matter the fare, it’s always a treat to eat out together. The meal became especially memorable when Arwen explained the reason for requesting a slice of lemon meringue pie – her teacher had just read a book in class that featured the dessert and she had been wondering what it was like. She loved it!

Like last year, we arrived at Little River State Park late enough to set up camp in the dark and go straight to bed, affording a wonderfully surprising look at the fall splendor the next morning. The kids were thrilled to see their friends who had arrived after they fell asleep. They scampered off to the playground across the road while Chad and I flipped pancakes with Tricia and Brad and compared notes on the journey. (Theirs had been a bit more adventurous than ours . . . )

After devouring a mountain of pancakes we wandered down to the reservoir where the kayak awaited. While the kids pretended not to wade, Tricia schemed ways to get us all out on the water at the same time. Deciding we preferred not to rent any additional kayaks, we took a more creative route, though which short lived and somewhat inclusive was loads of fun.

After ditching a few passengers, Tricia, Julia, and I took off into the middle of the lake. How amazing to sit entirely surrounded by such an array of gorgeous color. As much as I appreciate the foliage nearer the coast, nothing rivals the leaves in Vermont.

Our next excursion took us to Shelburne Pond for the second research trip – AKA treasure hunt. This stop became so popular even the initially dubious participants had to admit it was a blast. After a brief orientation from Chad, the kids were off and had found all ten sensors before I could blink an eye. Maybe that had something to do with the next stop on our agenda . . .

You simply can’t stay in Waterbury, Vermont without visiting the Ben & Jerry’s factory. Here our enthusiastic guide shared the origins of the company, walked us through the ice-cream making process, and shared some benefits of employment with Ben & Jerry’s. Apparently, each employee gets three pints of ice cream for every day they work, something they frequently leverage as a bartering tool. And – not sure if this is fact or fiction – the quality control guys each eat a pint and a half of ice cream every day (they get free gym memberships and cholesterol screenings).

No trip to Ben & Jerry’s is complete without a visit to the scoop shop. I couldn’t turn down a taste of my all-time favorite, New York Super Fudge Chunk. With full and happy tummies, after a visit to the flavor graveyard we headed back to the campground.

We had remarked many times how thankful we were to have enjoyed two dry camping trips together this summer. It must have been time to shake things up a bit – by the time we pulled into our campsites the rain was really coming down. Over the next hour and a half, while Tricia and Brad struggled to erect their canopy (yes, it took almost that long) we discovered that the firewood which we’d taken such pains to keep dry was incapable of burning. Instead of our traditional weenie roast we settled for leftovers from our picnic lunch, and instead of hours of grownup time reminiscing around the fire we played a family game of Fortunately/Unfortunately (which both Gavin and Arwen loved). By 8:00 we were all in bed, hoping against the sounds of the torrential downpour to make it through the night dry.

Sometime in the night I awoke to the flashing of lights and the blaring of a car horn. Brad had been kind enough to roll over on his keys, getting me just alert enough for a trip to the bathroom. I needed that. On our way out the next morning we stopped at the end of the reservoir to take in the majesty of the colors under a sapphire sky.

Heading south we took the scenic route through a string of sleepy towns, each with its white steepled church. It was all Tricia and I could do to pass farmers markets, yard sales, and farm stands without stopping. By the time we reached the birthplace of the prophet Joseph Smith near Sharon, Vermont we were ready to get out and eat. After our cold evening and morning we weren’t anxious to picnic on the lawn and were thrilled when the directors invited us to lay our spread on the immense dining room table in their home. When I worried about the mess we might leave on their tablecloth, the woman remarked, pulling out a photo of her 42 children and grandchildren, “as if I don’t know what a mess is.”

After yet another loaves and fishes experience (provisions intended for one lunch having sustained us through three meals), the kids enjoyed a final frolic around the monument before we parted ways. Our family’s final stop was in Hanover, New Hampshire near Dartmouth College where we completed our perfect record, finding in all thirty of thirty sensors.

I asked Chad if he felt at all nostalgic at the close of this stage of this research project. I shouldn't have been surprised to find no sentiment there. Thankfully, we’re hooked enough on Vermont to make it back in future years without the draw of sensor trekking.