Is it a Gap, Pass, Notch or a Summit!

I’ve biked over Galena, Banner, and Aldape Summits in Idaho. Lost Trail and Lolo Passes in Montana. Now Middlebury Gap in Vermont and Kinsman Notch in New Hampshire. Other places they may refer to a “saddle”. In Europe these features are referred by the French word “col”.  What is the difference? They all refer to a ‘navigable route’ through the mountains. The differences may actually be geological. But more likely they are geographically cultural nuances. 

Vermont likes their gaps. Especially when organizing rides. They will have a 3 gap or 4 gap ride completed in either a single or multiple day event.  A gap is similar to a pass but is considered more rugged. In fact I found these gaps to have steeper grades than my home passes. 

Today we climbed over the Kinsman Notch in New Hampshire. A notch usually refers to a pass that has steep cliffs on either side. The Kinsman would qualify. They like their notches in New Hampshire. 

It could have been that today’s Kinsman climb done in 59 degrees versus the 90 degree heat climb up the Middlebury Gap that gives an unwarranted favorable opinion of the Notch. 

I’m sure my geologist friends would offer a more comprehensive study on the differences between these. I’m just fascinated by the cultural and  geographical usage of a term referring to the high point I have to pedal before I earn the downhill. 

Before we started the proper attack of the Kinsman Notch, we found the Windy Ridge Orchard and Cider House Cafe. This would be our halfway point of the day and only food source. No other services would be available as we climbed and then descended the Kinsman Notch. 

The Fabrizio family bought the farm in 1967 and planted their first orchard the following year. They now offer tours to kids of the cider and farm animal business. Daughter Fabrizio started and operates the cider house cafe. Very tasty grilled sandwiches. Ours was the Empire with ham, turkey, provolone and garlic roasted balsamic vinaigrette. Mine on sourdough. And because of the earlier misty rain and low clouds I needed another hot cup of coffee. 

After lunch we were gearing up when this deep New England accent said “were did you ride from?”  Well I think that’s what he said. I’m pretty sure. Ok, I guessed. I don’t speak New England very well. The old gent wore dungaree shorts, boots, cap and three layers of plaid shirts of various colors and rips. He did have one of those big smiles. So I answered like I have so many times during the past two months. Of course we weren’t his first cyclist. 

Mr Fabrizio was very interested in our route, where we started and of course expressed approval in our destination of ‘Ba Habr’. He was excited to learn I ate my first lobsta yesterday and encouraged me to try more once I get to Maine.  As any farmer does, he talked fondly of the landscape and not so much of the weather. He shared an interest in Rhonda’s teaching profession, having a wife who taught French then 2nd grade for 18 years. 

As we straddled our bikes he looked up and said in that thick accent, “you shouldn’t need to worry about the rain crossing the Notch. I think it’s over for the day.”  

Local Eating Conventions

I’ve heard of lobster rolls, but really didn’t understand what they were. Like a sushi roll? Cheese roll? Something baked? Two days in a row I’ve had someone suggest them. We pulled into  our camp early today. The owner is a local retired chief of police. Very nice guy. We both agreed we are happy not to be on the job in these times. Anywho, he suggests the best lobster rolls are just across the street. Who am I to argue. I don’t know what they much less eaten one. My friends say I’m a mixed up Viking for my passivity towards critters that reproduce in the water. 

We hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Another local food convention faux pas on my part. Who knew you were to sleep in hours past the first rooster crowing before breakfast was served in a New England B&B. When we were asked what time we wanted breakfast I thought a leisurely 7:30 would work. We do have miles to ride and hills to climb. Evelyn frowned. Said her help, who would be serving us wouldn’t like it but would do it. I said, ok , 8 would be fine. She says that would be better. Evelyn was working some farmers markets this weekend selling her famous pies and quiche and jams. She would leave a tomato basil quiche for us that just required warming up. 

We slept so good in this 1840 house with a soft bed and feather pillows. It was like being a kid again at grandma’s house. The weather had turned and was cooling down but we kept the fans going and curled up under the blankets. Oh the joy. The first rooster went off a little after 6. I was kinda awake already but was actually lulled backed to sleep. A faulty rooster I suppose. At 6:30 I got out of bed and shut off the fan and noticed the hills were covered in clouds. Hmm. Back to the bed and under the blankets. More roosters joined in and by 7 I was wide awake checking the weather. Cooler, highs near 70. Cloudy. Perfect day to climb hills. We packed and brought all our gear downstairs. No one around. Usually there’s clanging and percolating coffee noises going on in a B&B.  I found the coffee pot. It was already preloaded so I turned it on. It’s after 8 now and no one stirring except us guests who were hungry. The coffee was actually really good. Strong and flavorful. I’ll have a second cup. 8:15. Still hungry. A third cup. At 8:27 I sent Evelyn a text thanking her for a nice warm bed but that we were headed into town for brunch as we still had miles to go and hills to climb. I hesitated pushing send and finished another cup. Once I pushed send I went in to place my cup in the sink when someone came down the stairs and both of us startled. She said she  wasn’t aware of us but sure knew the quiche in the frig was for us. Hmm? Wanting to be gracious and because mean people don’t ride bikes, we stayed, sat down and enjoyed a very tasty quiche, with seconds and more coffee while sitting on the porch watching the sun burn off the clouds. 

Fueled up we hit the road, back through South Royalton and the River road going downstream. We reached the village of Sharon and the road turned sharply up. Mr Garmin says 11% then 13. Second breakfast was the quiche again. Not as tasty the second time but it stayed down. I’m used to being passed by my wife on the climbs. I’m secure in that. But when four other ladies or gents pass me like I’m standing still, I question my abilities.  At the summit, or what is locally referred to as the gap, they were chatting with Rhonda and in need of mechanical help. The head tube of one bike was way loose. Then I noticed they were all riding E-bikes. I fixed the one. I’m as worthy now as the burger we ate yesterday. 

We rolled down and up and down through villages, like Sharon, South Strafford, and Thetford Center, that in some places would be considered touristy or vacation stops. Here in the Green Mountain State they are simply called ‘home’. The old creaky wood floored general stores are beaming with customers, all residents. All not in a hurry. All talking to one another. All giving each other smiles and waves. I guess this is the Vermont I had expected and was wanting.  We came upon the Sayre Bridge, a one lane covered bridge built around 1840. A local stopped, rolled down her window and asked, “ you want me to take your picture in front of the bridge?”  She has a vested interest in the bridge, raising money to maintain it and designing the new sign. She was so excited to hear of our journey. She thought we were hero’s. We’re not but accepted the platitudes with grace. Finally she said goodbye and wished us well on the next hill that awaited us on the over side of the bridge. Ugh. 

Then like that we were done climbing, for the day. Soon we crossed  the Connecticut River and entered New Hampshire. We took a left along the River road and soon entered another covered bridge. Then just like that we were in Orford and found our camp, The Pastures Campground. We were offered the premier site, tucked away in a corner on the River. 

Which is where we ate the most incredible lunch. The lobster roll was so delicious. I’m hooked. And the broccoli slaw the perfect side dish. We have been treated so well again this day. We are blessed. We are now eating a fine pizza delivered to us. Supposedly this restaurant doesn’t deliver this far out, but the camp owners gave us a name to drop and without hesitation today’s special Fire Oven Crust Backyard BBQ was delivered then devoured. 

The local food convention simply states: “eat well, live well, it’s a choice”. 

Royal Treatment in Royalton

We sat down in our corner booth eating our burger Worthy of its name. They commanded a hefty price, but once we took our first bite we realized the Worthy Burger was worth the wait and knew why they were still busy well past normal lunch hour and too early for dinner. But what do I know of the local eating conventions in South Royalton VT. 

We left Billy’s house around 9:30. A bit later start than normal. The plan called for a short day. 30 miles and following the River downstream. We had said goodbye to Steve LNU (last name unknown) earlier. We had such a great time last night. He will never trust my weather forecasting but we got some dinner and never really got all that wet. I wish Steve LNU well on his tour. He has overcome illness and battles on. He lives and rides in the moment. I hope we cross paths soon. 

Billy has stories to tell. He’s even written a book about some. Quite the eclectic life. Living in Hancock reminds me all to well of my days in Yellow Pine. They are fond memories. Thanks Billy for giving us the run of your home. 

The Vermont roads, at least the paved ones we’ve been on, give me reason to understand why gravel bikes and riding are so popular here in the Green Mountain State. We pedaled precariously along limited or no shoulders and traffic heavier than I expected. Yet we stay safe. God is good. 

Second breakfast was in Rochester, VT. A great cafe. Rhonda’s blueberry pancakes and local maple syrup filled her up. My standard breakfast was highlighted by some mighty fine tasting multi grain bread. 

Prior to breakfast we stopped at the Green Mountain Bike shop. We did not require anything, just looking around. The owner gave us the nickel tour and let us explore his inventory, spare parts, one off creations and his bike crank and chain operated draw bridge door. Where was this shop when I needed it in Erie, PA? 

Further on down the road we met Nick and Carrie from Reno. They are on a two week bike tour of Vermont. They met Steve LNU a little earlier. Next month Nick will be racing the Idaho Smoke and Fire, a 400+ mile dirt adventure starting and finishing in Boise. We won’t be home the day he starts but he may park his car at our place and four days later after he finishes we will take him in and give him a warm shower and good night’s sleep before he goes home 

After a couple of hours of white knuckle riding we found ourselves sitting in the Worthy Burger just relaxing. A couple of tables down a father and his son sat down. I’ve seen the look in a father’s eyes on the day he drops his oldest son off to college. The younger brother was there to support him whether he knew it or not. You could tell this dad loves his son by the way he engages life with him. The dad, we’ll call him Thomas, because that’s his name, looked over and said “nice day for a ride. How far you ride?”  “It’s been over 60 days of nice riding from Anacortes, WA, heading to Maine”. “I live in Maine, and operate Madeleine Point Oyster Farms. You are welcome to stay at our place if your route takes you close”. And so it goes throughout this journey. Unknown people inviting other unknown people into their lives and homes. Thomas is a former pro continental bike racer. A sprinter and crit racer. Now he just likes to take his boys on adventure. We exchanged contact information and before you know it, I’m  receiving texts about all the best places to visit and eat between here and Bar Harbor. He and Zack, the younger son, wanted to check out our bikes. We were discussing the pros and cons of tubeless set up when I mentioned my issues with my original tire brand when around the corner a voice said, “I used to use that unnamed brand and I switched to Rene Hearse. You ever heard of them?”  Of course I have. I get their weekly emails and I do look forward to testing out their tire when I get home. 

Michael is in town awaiting the Vermont Overland gravel race. I can tell he’s serious, about performance riding. But He has this infectious smile that makes you open up. Next thing you know we are following each other on Strava and Gram. He was so excited to hear of our adventure. He too loves adventure and is even more serious about sharing it with his two kids. They just returned from some hiking in the Adirondacks. He would be fun to hang out with. I just couldn’t keep up. We gave each other hardy handshakes and promised to follow each other’s progress; his Overland finish and our tour completion. 

Then it was off to the Over Pass tasting room. Over Pass is one of many Vermont breweries and one that was featured on a documentary with former pro Ted Kind about biking, Vermont and breweries. Since watching this last winter and learning it is on our route, I’ve been waiting for this. We walked in and I explained to the brewmaster that I’ve pedaled 3200 miles to be here. I ordered a sample of his lager and a hazy IPA. Both enjoyable. I’m also sporting a new cap. Next thing I see, Michael shows up and offers to buy a round. Now these rounds are only 4 oz tastings for those counting. I couldn’t believe it. He saw our bikes parked out front and just wanted to say hi one more time. His smile is infectious. So encouraging. 

Now we are resting comfortably in a local B&B. It’s an old farm house built in 1840. The upstairs bedroom reminds me of grandpa and grandma Heggen’s when we stayed there. Just not quite that old. The temps are cooler and the humidity is down. I think we’ll sleep tonight. In fact Rhonda is already making sleepy noises as she lays next to me. 

Just rubbing shoulders with reality. Stuff that only happens when you travel by bike.  

Rubbing Shoulders With Reality

The DAR State park? What’s there to say? It was a place to stop and rest. It was our first experience with Vermont. Maybe it was the humidity and heat, but I’m pretty sure I won’t make it a destination stop in the future. Sleep was hard in the heat. Or it could have been the neighbor’s car alarm going off. Once is a mistake. Twice a learning experience. But the fifth time seemed overkill. They left before 0500 hrs so who knows what was going on. 

We awoke, or more appropriately just got out of bed around 6. I made coffee and cocoa and enjoyed the little relief of humidity and heat. Today’s forecast had heat warnings. So we took off towards Middlebury, located in the foothills of the Green Mountains and home to Middlebury College, and a laundromat. A standard chore on rest day is laundry, but no such luxury near DAR State Park. After clothes were clean, we found Rosies Restaurant and had second breakfast. Very good food and service and the AC was welcomed. It was already noon and we still had 2,000’ of our 3,000’ day ahead. 

Leaving Middlebury we started the climb, at times reaching over a 13% gradient. The road was narrow but the traffic kind. We reached Ripton and enjoyed a cold Powerade at the country store. Another of those old oak creaky floor, we got everything you need including your Post Office Box stores. I could still be there, but we had more to climb. 

The road became more gentle and the shade welcomed. We passed through Breadloaf, an old style mountain resort get away. Then the Middlebury Mountain Campus and then Snow Bowl, the ski resort where our Indy Pass is valid. Maybe we will return…in a car. 

Finally, we reached the Middlebury Gap that claimed more than 3000 feet of climbing. The sign said we had a 12% down grade and we took advantage of it all the way in to Hancock, where we met Billy Romp, our warm shower host. He never says no to a cyclists. When he says make yourself home he means it. The house is ours. After an hour or so of story telling, another cyclist appears. Steve is traveling solo on the Northern Tier. Instantly I could tell we would get along. Steve, from Houston is an inspiration. A cancer survivor he has done several tours. Billy, our host, has a family band he leads, so he leaves us three hoodlums alone while he takes off to rehearsal. He says he hears the local restaurant is good, although he never goes to restaurants. We shower and clean up as the thunder rolls. The hot humidity finally decided to break into a storm. My weather app says we have time to ride the .3 miles back to town and the storm will run its course while we eat. Seems Rhonda and Steve trust me. Google says the restaurant is open till 8 but she lied. It closed 30 minutes ago and the rain decided to cut loose. The restaurant staff don’t seem willing to make some extra and offer any left overs so we hide under the porch waiting for the storm to pass at 7:10 according to the app. There’s this other guy on the porch. Seems like he made supper before closing but stuck around to finish off his adult beverage. He takes pity on us and offers us the food he has in his car. He staggers out in the rain and brings back four cups of Dole Pineapple which we devour. He then hands us a baggy of a green leafy substance and says it’s ours if we want it. Surely he’s stoned. Who else would give away a baggy of weed. We refuse, he waddles back to his car and starts to take off. The weather app is wrong. The rain let’s up at 7:04 but we wait for Mr Pineapple to get on down the road before we leave. We are told by the unaccommodating restaurant staff that JD’s Quick Stop is open. So it’s another night of convenience store fare…frozen pizza. We brought back the pizza and some local brew to Billy’s house, made ourselves at home and visited into the night about touring, life at home and grandkids. 

As Steve says, “rubbing shoulders with reality, you don’t get these experiences traveling fast along the interstate”.