Our First Amtrak Adventure

Every once in a while; quite a lot actually, an idea for a crazy adventure will get trapped in my head. Unfortunately not all of them are realized. This one came to fruition, but with some modifications that proved to put the ad in adventure. Who knew what would lie ahead, until we hit the tracks?

The original idea was to climb aboard Amtrak's Vermonter in St. Albans with our bicycles, light camping gear and get off in Brattleboro. We were going to ride a couple miles south, to Fort Dummer State Park in Guilford, and camp in a leanto. This would have checked off one more Vermont State Park and a few more towns in the Vermont 251 Club. 

Camping Memorial Day weekend is a tradition for us. Of all the Parks that we had left to check off; Fort Dummer was the only one available. Plans were set to check Fort Dummer and surrounding towns off our lists. Read this blog entry for all the fun we had. The convenience of it all put the bike / camping trip on the back burner.

Here we are in the middle of peak foliage season. Our life has been a whilwind since hopping out of a plow truck in April. Trying to make plans has been like catching water with our hands. Some plans remained enough to dampen our hands, but most had dripped through our fingers. We were thirsty for something more.

Our calendar pointed to an opportunity to get away during the second week in October. We made plans for an overnight in Brattleboro via Amtrak's Vermonter. There were no real plans other than to get away for an overnight and explore the town on foot or by bike.

We were excited and nervous about putting our bikes on the train. I learned that we needed to take off our front tires to hang them up for storeage. I hastened a mock run in the garage to save embarrassment at the station. That all went to hell when we got on board. We were told that there were only 2 hangers, and that they were on each end of the seating car we were entering. One would board first and go to the end, while the other would go on last, and access the hanger closest to the entry door, thus causing a nice even flo.

Ann and I chose to wheel the bikes down the narrow isle with the wheels on for easy navigation. This was all fine and good until Ann got to her hanger. I did not know our bikes were going to be seperated, and that we were responsible for storeage until it was too late. Ann was swearing like a parrot in frustration

I left my bike in a pile and ran to assist my floundering wife who had no idea of how to dismount the front tire. Like Superman I flew down the narrow corridor to her aid, only to realize I had forgotten one step in the dismount, causing undue stress to my wife. I went from Superman to chump in 2.0! Fortunatley the kind conductor showed me how to disconnect the brakes for easy release.

It didn't take long to put the stress and embarrassment behind us. The ride itself was gorgeous. We traveled along rivers with mountain backdrops. Farmer's fields were freshly harvested. The foliage glistened and sparkled as streaks of golden light pierced through the clouds. I was like a dog looking from window to window for the best possible view.

As more people boarded, I was forced to stay in my seat and contain my excitement. That didn't stop me from taking pictures and videos. We learned by accident, when someone took our seats, that sitting backwards on the train allows for longer viewing and better pictures.

Our off loading in Brattleboro was slightly better than our entry, but not by much. Wrestling our bikes through the narrow corridor was like wrestling a bull moose through a thicket

Once freed, we walked our bikes up main street with no plan, other than to eat. Downtown Brattleboro is beautifully lined with large brick buildings that shadows the main streets. Revitilaztion is evident everywhere, as every nook and cranny is filled with creative spaces to do business.

Unfortunatley the tight confines of downtown does not make for a bike friendly environment for the novice, so we walked our bikes up main street, looking for a "hitching post". 

In front of Burrows Sports is a small bike rack. The staff greeted us, and invited us to keep our bikes inside while we walked around town. What business does that these days? Every big city or town has the same problems. Protecting your bike is a big deal, especially when you are a local tourist, and it's your only mode of transportation. We gladly took Dana up on his offer.

While talking to Dana and the staff, we were told about some nice bike trails that were close by. In fact the Lower West River Trail was along our way to our hotel. This was definetley going to add to our adventure! 

Walking works up an appetite. It was only right and good to stop for a sandwich at the Works Cafe'. We must have hit a bullseye, as there was hardly a place to sit. In fact we met Dana as he was leaving to go back to Burrows Sports. He said we made a good choice. It is always reassuring when you get the nod from a local

A long talk with the staff back at Burrows encouraged us in our journey. Dana gave us some maps as we said our goodbyes. Little did we know what layed ahead.

Shortly out of town, on Route 5 North, the roadp became more biker friendly. We took advantage of the wide shoulder and headed to the Marina on our bikes. It is where the West River empties into the Connecticut River and the Lower West River Trail begins.

By this time the sun was showing its sweet light. Folks of every kind were taking advantage of the trail. Not everyone was as welcoming as the staff at Burrows, but we showed respect as we kindly announced our intentions to pass directional foot traffic.

The trail follows the West River with an occasional bench to enjoy the scenery. A nice overlook 

was created under the I 91 overpass. The State utilized a base from a bridge pillar and put a picnic table on it for shaded picnics. Some of the Bridge structure has a stone facade, adding to its outdoor ambiance.

From there, the path narrows at times. The fallen foliage made for a silent and peaceful journey through protected lands. Riding through the tunneling canope of trees was like looking through a kaleidoscope. The smell of autumn air alongside the calming waters of the West River caused no hurry in our stride. Taking it all in was like food for our souls.

At the hotel we had to switch our rooms from the second floor to the first in order to accomodate our bikes a little easier. In the morning I awoke to a flat front tire. We knew right where to go! This was our chance to return the favor for all the kindness shown to us at Burrows Sports. I keep a hand pump in my saddle bag for times as these. Fortunatley it stayed up for the 2+ mile ride.

Fish repaired my tire quickly and affordably while we got further aquainted with Julia, who helped solidify our plans for the day.  Julia described the Retreat Farm and Market and what we could expect for hiking trails.

While walking up Main Street,  we spotted an alley way. It was as if someone was whispering sweet temptations in our inner ear. We had to investigate. Awaiting us was a small patio overlooking the Connecticut River, and a man selling coffee and expresso from his kiosk. A seat was begging us to rest and fuel up for our trip.

Our senses hit the Richter scale! Every sight, sound and smell reminded us of our beloved Gutemala, where we haven't been in over 5 years. These are the signs we look for in our return.

The sun was out and there was nearly a cloud in the sky. The temps made for a brisk ride to the Retreat Market. The sweet light magnified the autumn colors. The warm colors penetrated my soul, like a glowing campfire on cool autumn morning

We were excited to pick out our picnic lunch at the Retreat Market, and bask in the sun. We dined on delectable treats and then headed for Ice Pond, via the Morningside Trail. The still woods made rustling of leaves beneath our feet sound as if there was a surging wind storm. Like kids we shuffled our feet for greater effect. Dots of light poked through the canopy of trees as we walked hand in hand

Ice Pond is where we finished our picnic lunch. The pond had no inlet or outlet of water, yet the pond was teaming with fish. I surmised that the pond had to have been stocked at some point in time. We amused ourselves by feeding them crushed crackers from our picnic lunch. You would have thought we were feeding piranhas by the way they churned up the water.

From there we made the gentle descent back to the barn. After a quick rest we mounted our bikes and headed back into town. We had plenty of time before the train arrived at the station. Amy's Bakery Cafe was along our way. A hitching post, and a table outside was all we needed to be convinced in stopping. We ordered a couple of coffees for outside, and a sandwich to share for the ride home. While Ann prepared our table outside, I waited for our sandwich to be built. When the boisterous young lady with tattoos called my name, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I thought it was my mother calling. She laughed when I told her. Apparently she hears that a lot.

When our coffees and people watching were done, we walked our bikes to the station and prepared our bikes for boarding. We were early so we sat on a windowsill sill and reminiced. 

While we were waiting, a young man, slightly disheveled, arrived with his bike. Before long he was sitting outside the station door with his accordian. Surely he was a panhandler. The sweet music helped pass the time away. I couldn't help to be curious about the yound lad, so I struck up a convesation with him. Aaron lives in town and traded a bike with a young girl who was passing through for her accordian. The two no longer needed their items, as they seemed to have served their time and purpose for each of them. This seemingly easy transaction reminded me of what I had read about the gypsies of yesteryear. Turns out Aaron works for Amtrak and practices his accordian while he waits for the train to arrive. Shows you how much I know!

The train arrived late. Getting on the train was another wrestling match. Hiking our bikes up the stairs to the passenger car was a little difficult with a bunch of people breathing down our necks. Our preperation ahead of time, and our experience going down, made things a little easier this time around.

It didn't take long to settle in. We were strategic about our seating. Our hope was to catch the sunset from our seat whilebwe had dinner. We were not dissapointed. 

The crimson sky helped ease us into the darkness, where we struck up a conversation with a lady traveling to meet her daughter in Essex. She was coming up to help her daughter pick out a wedding venue. When the conductor asked her to make room for two cycleist, she was expecting a couple of college kids. Our new friend was surprised to see an "older couple" stroll in with saddle bags ( for my bike ) and gray hair. She appologized for making such an assumption. We laughed and reassured her  that we took it as a compliment.

The fun really began when she started talking about her search for wedding barns. I take a little pride in my home state, and the things I have learned about it through our travels. As we talked, I was impressed by her research. She had all the ones I had reccomended. By now, it had become a personal challenge to find something she didn't have on her list. I dug deep into the archives of my mind ( a dangerous place sometimes ) and found one she did not know about. It advertises as a B&B, but they certainly do weddings in their barn. Our interior designer friend was elated when she saw pictures online and that it was close to her daughter. 

Our conversation continued until she got off in Essex. It made the trip through the dark seem faster and more interesting. St. Albans was the next and final stop. We eased our way to the door and found another friend to talk with until we arrived. 

Stepping out was less stressful than when we got on a day ago, and that was the purpose of our trip. While we were able to ad to the adventure on this trip, we were able to subtract so much more from the baggage of life. I'll take that train anytime!