By Berne Broudy
It’s mid-June when my husband and I park along the Stowe Rec Path, double-check our pockets for snacks and sunscreen, triple-check that our water bottles are topped off, and swing a leg over our gravel bikes. With the West Branch of the Little River gurgling next to us, we point our wheels towards the crisp white steeple of Stowe’s Community Church.
Then we go where whim and dirt roads take us. A jog to the left, then another, and pavement gives way to dirt, the car traffic peters out, and before we know it we’re pedaling through one of Vermont’s iconic covered bridges. Holsteins and Guernseys dot the Sound of Music hillsides. So do red barns and restored farmhouses.
We pull off the road and grab a drink in the shade of fluttering maple leaves. After conquering a string of meandering climbs, we break for a snack and dip our feet into a cool pool beneath a mossy waterfall, making a mental note to return later for a dip.
The roads are dirt, but they’re firm and well-maintained. The last traces of snow have finally melted from the craggy summit of Mt. Mansfield. Yet we still feel like we could be pedaling through Switzerland.