Vacation 2013 Isle La Motte and into Stowe

Isle La Motte

After seeing Burlington, it was time to strike out. I headed north up toward the northern boundary and Lake Champlain islands. Through the damn rain. Again. One takes a series of narrower and windier roads to arrive there, all rolling through other islands and across the Lake. The leaves have started turning red here, so I saw a good bit of color in and out of the rain.

Shrine of St. Anne's

Isle La Motte is where French explorer Samuel de Champlain first stepped foot in Vermont, in 1609. Later, the French founded Fort St. Anne along the northern coast, which was garrisoned for only a few years, to protect against native attacks. The Catholic Church later dedicated a Shrine of St. Anne's, which still exists and at which people still visit and pray. A quarry existed on the island for many years, and provided a black stone with funny designs that scientists later determined were fossils. Turns out that Isle La Motte, millions of years ago, contained one of the largest coral reefs in the world. The quarry shut down and became a nature preserve.

Otherwise, Isle La Motte doesn't have much going on. With the rain and overall dreary conditions, the trip was kind of a bust. Imagine Texas City or Freeport but spread out over an entire island. Not many people live there, and while there's a few semi-nice houses, its mostly, um, not so well off. The coastal view of the Adirondacks probably is nice, on a nice day. Today it was just clouds. The island contains several marshes and a good bit of scrub vegetation. I never did find the old quarry, so I can't tell whether it was interesting. I did, however, find a lot of trailer lots, abandoned appliances, and crumbling buildings. I could have just stayed in Austin to see that. So, as Arian Foster might say, Isle La Motte was the anti-awesome. That's a little unfair. It wasn't like some sand trap jutting out into the ocean with no redeeming value. Like most of Galveston, for example. But it didn't merit the long drive up from Burlington. All the while Qubecois radio stations kept blaring their Frenchy programming through my American radio. I couldn't make out most of it, though I could have sworn they were talking about making surrender plans.

So after running up and down the road, I went back the way I came, through Burlington, on the way to Stowe. That was a more interesting drive, along IH-89. It cuts through the Green Mountains and up close to Mount Mansfield, site of the skiing areas that Stowe services. The rain had mostly let up by that point, so I could enjoy the drive much more.

Stowe Community Church

Stowe, while a ski resort, doesn't seem to have as much money and excess as Aspen. The only other ski resort I've visited. Put it this way. I don't think I'd ever see Lance Armstrong in Stowe (like I did in Aspen). Stowe has just a couple of main streets, with a concentration of shops and restaurants along just Main Street. A very attractive old church building, now the Stowe Community Church, dominates the town area. I stayed at the Green Mountain Inn, an historic hotel that had recently been refurbished. The Inn, one of many area hotels, features many amenities, such as a pool, hot tub, game room, excellent restaurant, shops, and spa services. And an apple tree just outside my door. Everything was nice, except for the country style room furnishings. They provided me a double room, which would have worked really well if I were actually five people. Or if I were a party of two and fighting with the other party in my party. Which has never ever happened on a trip such as this, so I really don't have any idea what that's like. Or whether sometimes you have to just drive halfway across the state and fly yourself back home because if you don't then one or the other of you is going to die at the other's hand. I've heard. Anyway, my canopy bed twisted the normal format in which I normally sleep. What function does the canopy serve? It doesn't shield you from sunlight. It doesn't keep dust off you or keep vampires away. Hey if there were spotlights or mirrors attached, I'd get it, but a canopy bed only just casts a shadow, and keeps a rug over your head. And don't forget all that quilting. And country blue and red. And the HUGE spotted chicken lamp. And the fake Shaker looking furniture. I bet the crowd from Pennsylvania really goes for this place. And a chicken lamp...very soothing.

That night I went to The Whip, reputedly Stowe's nicest restaurant, in the hotel. I ate at the bar and had some really good pork tenderloin with a cherry reduction. The bartender, a Philadelphia Eagles fan, kept everyone amused and we reminisced about the old Houston Oilers and Astros teams. Including the famous 1980 National League Championship Series (Phillies vs. Astros). Later an older guy from Cincinnati came along and we talked about Reds baseball. It really is true that, at least for men, no matter their differences, they generally can connect over sports. My old judge, Marilyn Aboussie, for whom I clerked the year after I finished law school, once said that whenever men get together they talk about sports, and when women get together they talk about shoes. I'm not sure how accurate that is for women, but its very true for men. We closed the place down, which really says something because I wasn't drinking.

NEXT-the Mt. Mansfield Death Climb. I'm getting too old for this.