We live about 20 minutes due east of Lake Champlain, so in the
summer it’s a big draw for swimming, kayaking, and sunset viewing. Learning to
sail on the lake is at the top of my bucket list. It’s home to 70 islands, the largest of
which are ideal for biking, so last weekend Chris and I decided to explore the
southern part of Grand Isle, an area known as South Hero. To get there, we
biked across the Island Line Trail, a narrow causeway that crosses the lake,
joining a suburb of Burlington with South Hero. The ride across is a
spectacular four-mile trek over the water, with sweeping views in all directions.
The Island Line Trail used to be a railroad line with a
swing bridge that allowed boats to pass through. Since the swing bridge is no
longer there, a 20-passenger bike ferry now transports cyclists and pedestrians across the
200-foot gap.
The ferry’s affable captain told me that he makes the crossing
around 50 times on a typical day. Chris and I hopped aboard with a handful of
other people--locals, Québécois, and out-of-staters--and were on the other side
in less than 10 minutes.
Grand Isle County lays claim to the state’s longest growing
season, which makes for a thriving agricultural region and good food and drink
to be had. We pedaled along dirt and two-lane roads, past orchards,
cows,
and small-scale farms,
never far from a glimpse of the lake. For lunch, we stopped at the Accidental Farmer Cafe, a modest
roadside stand tucked in between an orchard and a farm.
The Accidental Farmer himself, Mike, hand rolled some local,
grass-fed burgers for us as he talked about life on the island.
Although he’s not an actual farmer, he says he “cultivates the
farmers” by using as much of their produce, meat, cheese, and other products as
he can in the tasty fare he serves up. We couldn’t resist ordering one of his juicy cheeseburgers, but his other more
creative, global offerings—such as nachos served not on chips but on local
fingerling potatoes—were very tempting.
After lunch, we walked next door to Allenholm Farm for a classic
Vermont dessert—a maple creemee.
Back on our bikes, we looped around to the western side of
the island to take West Shore Road hugging the coast. The wind picked up and it
started to drizzle just as we were approaching Snow Farm Vineyard. Perfect
timing!
The first commercial vineyard in the state, Snow Farm was
established by its forward-thinking owners in an effort to retain agricultural
land in the face of pressures to develop. The island’s more temperate climate
allows Snow Farm to grow French hybrids, along with Pinot Noir and Riesling,
under the direction of a winemaker who studied with the best at the University
of Dijon in Bourgogne, France. (I also studied there while in college—not
winemaking, although I did my share of extracurricular sampling.)
Chris and I shared a tasting, which they nicely let us split
since we would be getting back on our bikes. I was impressed by the smoky Baco Noir and
also the Gewürztraminer, whose minerality is balanced by lush peach.
Back outside the drizzle had stopped, but we still had to
ride against the wind back to the ferry. We pedaled hard up a couple hills, and then
we rounded a bend and came upon a field edged by trees. On practically
every tree, someone had placed a colorful birdhouse. Hundreds of them.
In this technological consumer age when we’re constantly bombarded
by corporate efforts to “surprise and delight” us, this simple display made us
literally stop in our tracks, genuinely surprised and delighted. And it was
just one of several instances that afternoon, during the course of our twenty-mile
bike ride, that had this effect on us.
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