A weekend trip to Vermont (this is a long one)

After several hours of riding we pulled into Stowe, VT. At this point we had a conversation about whether we should stop and eat, but instead decided that we'd head onto the resort to get our room. Another mistake, but now the real memories start. We headed from Stowe to Smuggler's Notch Resort on the 108. One the map this is a road...this is NOT a road! This is a paved goat path that goes up and over the mountain through Smuggler's Notch proper, at night, with no street lights, and too much tree coverage to let any moon light through. In hindsight it was pretty cool, but at the time I had visions of getting tackled off my bike by a bear or mountain lion or inbred hillbilly that wanted my skin for a new mask.

After dodging rednecks and lions and bears (oh, my!) over the top of a mountain at night we arrived at Smuggler's Notch Resort. We attain our room keys and ask about food. The very confused lady at the desk told us that there was a restaurant around the corner and assured us that we could definitely get fed. Now, the way this kind of place is laid out is they have a main complex; separately they have different complex's with the rooms and suites. So, we mounted back up on our trusty steads and headed about a half mile back UP the 108 to our room, dropped our stuff off, and then walked back down to the main complex for dinner.


The restaurant had closed 10 minutes before we walked up. (sigh!) Back at the main lobby the same very confused lady was surprised that the restaurant had closing hours, and was beginning to become annoyed at the road grime covered bikers that keep bothering her while she's trying to watch tv. She tells us that about another half mile down the road (literally down because we are still on a mountain) there is a bar with a kitchen. GREAT!


We continue walking down the mountain to this bar, Brewster's River Pub. It was a happening place for a Saturday night with people everywhere. The band was setting up, and it was proving to be a good night. Josh and I get two beers and are told that the kitchen shut down several hours before. (sigh!)

We decide a liquid dinner it is, and we grab a seat at a table, and are almost instantly confronted by a fat chick and her three friends about how there were two of us and four of them, and how we should be nice and give them our table. Yes, we are nice respectable southern men, so we give up our seats and decide to just stand at the bar. Chunky Chelsea and her buddies don't even give a "thank you." Some people's children just aren't raised right.

We stand at the bar trying to flag down the bartender who seems to be purposely ignoring us (nonsense, I say!), when the same girl from before and one of her cohorts push past us and get instant service. While they are waiting for their drinks, she turns to me and says "Do you have to stand so close? I'm not interested, dude." Excuse the shit out of me?!

Around this point we start noticing a trend. The bar tender is in skinny jeans and a flannel shirt with suspenders, while rocking an overly manicured beard, and so is EVERY guy in the bar. The fat chick is wearing a Back to the Future style Marty McFly vest and a dangely gold feather ear ring with a cropped haircut. Most of the other women in the place look like they would several years later be wearing pink pussy hats at a protest.

FUCKING HIPSTERS!

We, hipster haters as we are, managed to go to a bar, in the middle of nowhere, and find a hive of hipsters. It was the type of situation where we were ready to start a fight and ruin their entire night, but hunger and lack of beer was taking it's toll on us, so we decided to leave.

A half mile walk back UP the mountain road of Hell to the front office.  We tell the same annoyed woman that place's kitchen was closed.  She informs us that we are in Vermont, with no big cities, and that we probably should have arrived earlier if we wanted food because we weren't in the type of place that had all night establishments.  NO SHIT?!  She also tells us that there is another bar with a kitchen in town at the bottom of the mountain.  COOL!  We eagerly march the other half mile UP the mountain to our bikes, mount up, and start heading down the mountain towards Jeffersonville.

The next morning, with frost on our bikes, we load up and head back down to Jeffersonville to fill up and grab a quick bite to eat.  The morning, while cold, was incredibly clear and beautiful.  It was the kind of morning you would hope for.




We traveled along VT-15 checking out the sights along the river.




We eventually started heading down VT-5...


...until we finally realized we were never going to make it back to CT in time to get some sleep before work on Monday.  At that point we cut the trip's sight seeing, and hopped on the interstate to make best time home.


Overall, it was one hell of a trip, that will never be forgotten.  Moral of the stories: 1. Never trust a mountain village at night.  2.  Never trust a woman's recommendations that is obviously annoyed you're talking to her.  3.  Kill all hipsters.

The End.