from Rutland Vermont

This is our last night on the road and the day’s drive from Bangor seemed so-o-o long. We stopped at Woodstock VT, which is an artsy little town — good for lunch and a walk. Now we’re at a Best Western, fussing with keys and broken ice machines, but overall glad to be in a comfy room. I’m finishing up the last dregs of my box o’ wine — talk about good planning!

We’re still listening to chapters of Moby Dick to keep us entertained.

It will be good to get home!

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4 Responses to from Rutland Vermont

  1. Eric Zimmer says:

    Did you know that Rockefeller insisted that the power lines be subterranean in Woodstock? Kind of unique for the time, and adds to the beauty of the town.

  2. Cool, and it is lovely. Hey, do you remember that night the three of us (in 2 cars) traveled thru the blizzard from Boston to Killington? We had to drive on the wrong side because that side was plowed… and the floorboard in J’s old Mercedes finally rusted thru, packing snow under the gas pedal… and we spent the night in some kind of youth hostel bunkbeds because we gave up trying to make it to the condo we’d reserved?

  3. Eric Zimmer says:

    I vividly remember! That was scary. His car was a Fred Flintstone kind of thing; you could see the road in front of his seat. We didn’t even make it up to the Killington Access road; I think we were forced to top on the road near the base of the Great Eastern gondola, right? That is so funny you remember that. That was one of those near life-or-death (one word?) situations!

  4. How could I forget. So much for the romance of the Mercedes-Benz! We were starving too. I think where we stayed was one of those Brigadoonish places that just appeared to save our lives — I never figured out where it was exactly. On the upside, I did learn how to ski little moguls that weekend, trailing after you guys, by singing Pointer Sisters songs to myself to catch the rhythm.

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