The seeds for this trip were planted a couple of years ago, when fantasizing rationally about tandem touring. The idea was to find a manageable tour within driving distance of Boston. From there, if all went well, we would work up to a more challenging trip in Europe.

Lake Champlain looked to be on just about every list.

Today Europe has come and gone. We jumped into the Italian frying pan last summer. This August, a Finnish tandem adventure awaits. We are going to ride through the Finnish Archipelago and deliver my Mom’s ashes to a particular rocky point in Hanko, where we will throw them into the Baltic on the day of the great bonfires.

In Finland we will have no choice but to do it on our own- itinerary, routes, overnights – the works. And we will have to carry everything on our tandem.

Clearly, we needed a practice adventure. Ideally within driving distance of Boston.

Bingo. A loop ride around Lake Champlain.

 

 

The obvious start and end was Burlington, Vermont, a fun and sophisticated town with great hotels and restaurants.

Working from Burlington counterclockwise, at 30 to 50 mile days it looked like we could do an interesting, entertaining, scenic, 5 day loop, which is how it worked out, with a day added for more bicycle-friendly roads.

As for the route itself, smart bicyclists already had it all worked out: The Champlain Bikeway is a 363 mile route around the entire Lake. If we cut across to the NY side just under the Canadien border and sliced a bit off the tail on the south end of the lake with a ferry,  we had our 240 mile target loop.

 

The first step was to enter our modified version of the The Champlain Bikeway into our Ride-with-GPS App: Road-by-road and Turn-by-turn. Theoretically, when downloaded to our Wahoo Elemnt Bolt bike computer, we would get live turn-by-turn directions, as long as we kept the Wahoo App open on my iPhone and remembered to hit start. Remarkably it all worked. Good news for Finland.

In a very last century move, we also loaded paper maps into the clear plastic sleeve on top of our new handlebar bag. Another smart move, which paid dividends when a bridge was out on our route and we had no cell service to use for checking alternatives.

Typically for day rides, we only use an Arkel trunk bag on our lightweight rear rack and a couple of small seat bags for tools, spare tires and so forth. For this trip and for Finland, we needed more capacity.

If it wasn’t on the bike, we didn’t have it, for the duration. That said, this was a creditcard ride, so minimal would do. We bought a small Arkel handlebar bag and a set of Arkel Ultra-light Dry-Lite Panniers to supplement our trunk bag.

The day before we left, we did a test pack. Everything fit, except for the second spare tire- which we strapped to the frame with velcro pants straps.

Our riding weather around Lake Champlain in early June ended up as forecast: mid-50s to mid-70s. Sunny, partly-sunny, and a bit of rain. But the rain only soaked the roads, minutes before we arrived. No dreaded headwinds to speak of. We lucked out.

Our only mechanical problem was on the 4th day out, when we lost a bolt attaching one of the struts of our rear rack. Thanks to the kindness of strangers, it was no biggie.

In Finland we will be bringing the odd assortment of bolts and nuts, and perhaps a bit of baling wire. Preparation for the non-specific. Not surprisingly that one hadn’t been on our list, but it is now.

Lake Champlain was the perfect shakedown run. Tough enough to be humbling. Varied enough to be interesting – with hundreds of years of history, remarkable vistas,  lots of wildlife, a French influence, and some great roads for bicycling.

We’ll be back.

Day 0,  Wednesday May 3, 0 miles & 0 feet in elevation, Burlington, Vermont

In a moment of inspiration, I scheduled a goof-off day after our drive up to Burlington. For whatever reason, it takes a ton of energy to get out of town and a day or so to recover.

Why not just lean into it?

We slept in. Had a great breakfast. Explored the hotel. Wandered around the Burlington Waterfront and ended the day with a party for two at a doubly-recommended restaurant in Burlington.

Perhaps this old dog can learn new tricks.

 

 

Day 1,  Thursday May 31, 52 miles & 1885 feet in elevation from Burlington, Vermont to North Hero, Vermont

At hotel checkout in the morning there was another, much younger couple, also in spandex in front of us in line. They were heading off to Montreal with a fully supported bicycle tour and  were curious about us.

“So you are just on your own?”

“Yup.”

How did you figure it all out?

“Well we started in Burlington and planned 30 to 50 miles a day counterclockwise….”

She looks at him and then back at me. “We could do that.” He didn’t look convinced.

I added, “It’s not all that complicated.”

He looks at me, “240 miles around the lake sounds ambitious. You must be in good shape.”

” Not really, and … we haven’t done it yet.”

They went outside and got in their tour van.

We went outside and got on our bike.

 

 

Down the hill to The Island Line Trail bike path. Then a sharp right. We turned on the bike computer, hit Start and headed North.

After 8 miles or so we reached the fork for the Causeway. It was closed due to storm damage, as we knew it would be.

 

 

The Causeway is the shortcut to South Hero Island. A bicycle path on a spectacular abandoned railway causeway right out across the lake.

 

 

No 3 mile causeway for us. We had to ride the long around, an extra 25 miles or so.

We met up with an architect friend Carl and his wife at their house, close to the where the causeway lands on South Hero Island. After a house tour of their great little modernist waterfront hideaway, we continued on, with Carl as guide.

We rode back down the causeway to the 200 foot gap, where in season, when the causeway is open, a ferry shuttles bicyclists and hikers across.

 

Then it was back to the island, where Carl guided us north along backroads on the west side of the island past the Bird House Forest, the Snow Farm Vineyard and Winery, Sawyer Bay and Gordon’s Landing. We crossed to North Hero Island, finally arriving at our inn for the night, The North Hero House.

Carl bid us adieu. We kicked back and relaxed. Our room was on the water with a screened porch, a hammock, and a jacuzzi.  With one thing and another, the day had ended up about 10 miles longer than expected, but so it goes. They were fun, scenic miles.

After a bit we wandered over to the Inn’s restaurant for a tasty, relaxed dinner overlooking the lake. We were surprised when we were seated at a table with a handprinted name card, “Sharon & Mark”. About half-way through dinner our waitress pointed out that what we thought was the table card was actually a gift card. Carl and his wife Linda were sending us off in style with a bon voyage bottle of wine.

We went for a Pinot Grigio to pair with our scallops and fish & chips. We joked that if we didn’t finish the bottle, we would strap it on top of our bike bags, and haul it around the lake. But it went down easy at sunset, so no need to pull out the cargo net.

Not surprisingly, we slept well, with the gentle waves of the lake, lapping at our door.

Day 2,  Friday June 1, 45 miles & 984 feet from North Hero, Vermont to Plattsburgh, New York

As usual we were up early. We packed up the bike, which had spent the night on our lake porch and headed over to the inn restaurant for a leisurely breakfast. Then, we checked out and headed north once again.

From North Hero, we wound our way up through the islands. We passed beaver lodges by the side of the road and an Osprey flew low over us with a fish still flapping in it’s talons. Late morning we turned west a mile south of the Canadian border.

My cell phone welcomed us to Canada. We crossed the bridge to Rouses Point and headed south on the New York side of the lake.

 

By lunchtime we had made it to Chazy New York, 8 miles south of the Canadian border, 28 miles into the day. Time for some food.

There didn’t look to be a lot of choices. The battered pick-ups out front were a sure sign that the Cattle Barn Pub and Grill was open. A nondescript storefront, it looked more local bar than eatery. We locked up out front, wandered in, and sat down.

The menu had something called a Glazier Michigan Deluxe. I asked Sharon, who knows all things, what it could be. Indifferent shrug.

Our hardworking, one-tough-cookie, 40s-something unnaturally-blonde waitress with bright-blue eyeliner, explained that the Glazier was the hot dog, Michigan was the meat sauce. Deluxe was the onions and so forth.

It turned out to be the local spin on the chili dog, sans chili, beans and tomato sauce. Spice was in the unnaturally-high-intensity-red dog itself.

As we were getting ready to leave, an old guy couldn’t get up out of his chair. His friend was trying to help, but he wasn’t much younger. I thought about going over. Then a young woman, probably pushing 250 lbs, slid off her stool and graciously saved the day.

Seemed like she knew him when.

The TV was on the Yankees channel, replaying glory days from the late 1980s.

We chased the rain into Plattsburgh- only lightly soaked when we arrived at the Valcour Brewery, late Friday afternoon. A brewery dropped into a historic army barracks from the 1800s with rooms to let.

Our kind of place.

 

 

I walk up to the bar. One of the women is clearly in charge. I remember her voice from the phone. A no nonsense, smart bartender type.

“Yes, we have your reservation.”

She remembers my story. “I could never do that. My hair products alone take up a suitcase.” She looked knowingly at her co-worker and then back at me. And they both laughed. Big laughs.

We settled into our room and then headed back to the bar for dinner. I was expecting a rowdy Friday night working crowd. Au contraire, it was families and old folk.

Good drink and good food at good prices, served up by a good natured staff in a clean well lighted place, explained that.

I was working my way down my flight of 4 oz beers contemplating the respectful military posters around the room, when our waitress came up. Turns out Valcour has military special forces roots.

The vision of a couple of married retired army colonels. Building permit issued in 2015. Shortly thereafter Terry Schmaltz was diagnosed with cancer. Gone in a year.

Gone but not forgotten.

We were on an early schedule. This place was probably not. So I ask what time folks show up in the morning.

“10 or so. Just leave the key in the room.”

The best local breakfast?

“Campus Corner”

Day 3,  Saturday June 2, 34 miles & 1703 feet from Plattsburgh, New York to Essex, New York

 

Sometime between 7 and 8 AM, we were sitting down at the counter of Campus Corner.  A classic working folks diner. Good food at good prices. Our waitress looked related to the older woman working the grill who looked related to the grandma in the clearly-beloved photo on the wall.

Perhaps a dozen of us at the counter. And a snaking counter was all there was.

The County Coroner, Mad Pup Tattooing and Joe’s Barber Shop – “No Appointments- Walk-Ins Only” – had ads on the take-out menu.

It was going to be a good day.

Our first stop was the Stone Ledge Sculpture Garden a bit south of Plattsburgh. An ad-hoc   roadside diversion. More than 80 monumental sculptures spread across a field.

 

 

We arrived in charming Essex early afternoon. We left Mr. Tandem in the woodshed. I asked our most-entertaining innkeeper Garret, about a lock. He laughed out-loud and said,

“Stolen? In Essex?  That would make the newspaper.”

Famous folks lie low in Essex. Per Forbes 2018, one of the 5 coolest towns in America to buy a vacation home.  I can understand why. Dripping history, unspoiled, far off the beaten track, but close enough.

 

 

Day 4,  Sunday June 3, 44 miles & 3295 feet from Essex, New York to Shoreham, Vermont

 

This was our toughest day and we knew it was coming.

Riding a tandem is a momentum game. On downhills, make way. On uphills, time to gear down and pull over into the slow lane. Unless you’ve got the strength, synchronization, and skill to power through.

We’re getting better, but we’re not there yet, as the Adirondacks proper, on our fourth day out, made perfectly clear.

We did our share of walking grades over 10%. On a stretch of descents in the tall pines we pulled over for a snack next to a modest resort not yet open for the season. The owner walked over to chat.

Yep, he says folks underestimate the climbs.

“Made $800 one day selling lemonade when a bike event passed by on the uphill.”

We continued our invigorating descent, but once out in the rolling flats were gassed on the homestretch into Ticonderoga where we caught the ferry back across to Vermont.

 

 

 

The ferryman was a woman. Total extrovert. Loved her job. Ex-local postmistress. Cost us the basic $2 bicycle price to cross. No upcharge for 2 on a tandem. The ferrywoman laughed when I explained that Sharon wasn’t sure this was right.

Back in Vermont, we only had 4 miles or so to the Shoreham Inn. Another gem.

 

 

 

Day 5,  Monday June 4, 29 miles & 1287 feet from Shoreham Vermont to Basin Harbor Vermont

We waited in Shoreham for the morning rain to stop. Which made for a late start. No matter this was going to be an short day. The first 5 miles or so of Lake street were unpaved, thankfully pretty smooth. No one around. Zero traffic.

Glimpses of the Lake on the left. Fields and farms to the right. This was a day to contemplate how hard farmers work. Really hard. Endless hours.

Back on pavement we passed Kimball Brook Farm. Vermont Dairy Farm of the Year 2011.

 

Nice looking cows, but not quite as gorgeous as Swiss Cows, who always seemed to look like they had just returned from the beauty parlor. If you are going to come back next life as a cow. Go Swiss.

We pulled into Basin Harbor Resort around 1:30 in the afternoon. I head for the lobby while Sharon stays outside with Mr. Tandem. First guy I run into looks vaguely like he could be working for the resort. Feng Shui-wise he was standing on a power spot. Not too close to anyone. All angles covered.

I remembered the story of 4 generations of resort owners, and the thought flickered that maybe he was related.

So I introduced myself and we shook hands. Turned out he was just another guest. Remarkably strong unforced natural grip. Almost shaved head. Perhaps late 40s. Kind of ageless. Nothing remarkable in appearance.

He says he is here with a group from “all over,” and then added, “Well, most of us are from Washington DC.” Curiously I felt like he had decided that he could let this tidbit out.

I look around for where to check in. I was ready to walk up to the women at the front desk, when I noticed a group of geeky-looking guys standing around who could be waiting to do exactly the same thing.

I ask the closest, “Is this the end of the line?”

“Yes”

And we chat a bit. Remarkably nice guy. Perhaps Jewish, a shade of a foreign accent. Russian? 40’s-ish. Generic stylish black plastic framed glasses. The type of guy everyone likes, because he always knows exactly the right things to say to put everyone at ease.

He turns to the next person in front him, and they start chatting. I could only pick up a few words here and there.

“…  I’m Torture…”

Answered by,

“… its always important to have men on the ground..”

Sharon put her finger on it, right off. We were sharing the resort with a CIA retreat.

Next table over at the next morning’s breakfast, there was a fat lady, praised as “brilliant”, a young jewish woman, clearly on the way up, a strikingly-good-looking thin woman dressed for the part and a 70-ish male mentor.

Curiously all the popular media stereotypes were here.

In hindsight, I don’t doubt for a moment that the first nondescript hard-grip guy I met in the lobby, was special forces, high end muscle.

In the morning breakfast line he and I chatted amicably. I suspect he knew that I knew, but so it goes. I kept thinking of the stealth bomber. No reflections off his nondescript persona.

Day 6,  Tuesday June 5, 37 miles & 1720 feet from Basin Harbor Vermont to Burlington Vermont

After our leisurely most-excellent breakfast. We finished packing up, checked out, took a few pics and hit the road for Burlington.

 

The first stretch was more gorgeous bicycling. Right up there with the first two days’ ride through the islands.

 

About a mile before this bridge, a fox was waiting for us on the side of the road. As we approached, he nodded and took off.

A couple of hours later we were checking back into the Hotel Vermont in Burlington.

Next up Finland.