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Driving from New Hampshire into Vermont we noticed two things immediately. One, there are no billboards along the highway (a state law). Not that New Hampshire is littered with them but their absence was wonderful; it made the drive more scenic and less hectic (I feel obligated to read all the billboards along the way, in case I might be missing something).

Now, the state doesn’t want travelers to miss an opportunity to spend money so they have information signs that mention the various services and attractions at each exit. The second item that became apparent were the farms that dotted the hillsides. Some were small, some were large but there were clearly more of them than in New Hampshire. What a difference a few miles can make!

Our first stop was the Cabot Farmer’s Creamery Cooperative Cheese Factory. The Cabot Co-op is part of the reason that Vermont still has so many dairy farms. The co-op started in 1919 when 94 family farms pooled their resources and set up a milk and butter processing plant. The dairies produced enough milk that by 1930 the co-op hired a cheese maker. And the rest, as they say, is history…

We took a tour of the main factory (the now 1,350 member co-op has two other factories these days) where we learned several neat tidbits. All incoming milk is tested before it is unloaded; the member farms have all agreed not to use hormones or antibiotics on their cows. If something is found to be wrong, the milk is dumped on a field (extra fertilizer) and the farmer has to eat the cost. Needless to say, that doesn’t happen very often but they test every truck, every day just the same.

We also learned it takes about 1.2 gallons of milk to make a pound of cheddar (another way of looking at it, 10 pounds milk = 1 pound cheddar). To put that into perspective, the factory makes 36 tons of cheese a day, five days a week—that’s a lot of milk! Lastly, Cabot’s cheddar is lactose free. In milk lactose is in the whey, which they do not use to make their cheese. That’s great news for cheese lovers out there.

Speaking of cheese lovers, I am one and the place was cheddar cheese heaven. The tasting room was full of all kinds of cheddar: sharp, extra-sharp, extra-extra-sharp, horseradish, jalapeño, chipotle and a few other flavors that I am forgetting. All of it was delicious, I tended toward the really sharp end while Lance was more of a medium sharp guy. The co-op also makes other dairy products like sour cream, yogurt and, of course, butter, but if you live far from Vermont you won’t find those items in your grocery store. After purchasing some of their tasty cheese and yogurt we headed to a tiny town called Randolph Center which would be our home for the next few days.

We noticed a trend in Vermont, and New Hampshire, where a series of small towns, strung out along a road or in a river valley, have basically the same name. Randolph Center is a good example: to the west is Randolph, nearby are the towns of North Randolph, South Randolph and East Randolph. I am sure there is a good reason for this lack of creativeness, perhaps it has to do with the old land grants?

Randolph Center has two claims to fame: Vermont Technical College and Justin Morgan. The college surprised us since the town is so small but in a way it makes sense since Randolph Center is almost dead center in the state. As for Justin, he is buried in Randolph Center, and just up the road near Brookfield is where his horse, Figure won his now-famous race. That stretch of road where Figure surprisingly bested top-ranked New York horses in 1792 is now called the Morgan Mile. The town of Brookfield still runs a race on that mile every year.

Figure, that small in stature mixed-breed of a horse, went on to become the foundation of the Morgan breed. The demand for Morgans was high as they were gentle, easy keepers with all-around abilities suited for everyday needs on a farm. By the time of the Civil War Morgans were the preferred horse of the cavalry and stagecoach drivers out west. Later, Morgans were bred with other horses to help with the foundation of several new breeds: Standardbred, American Saddlebred, Tennessee Walking Horse, and the American Quarter Horse. Unlike the Morgan each of these breeds is highly selected for a special characteristic or performance ability.

Our time in Randolph Center was rather warm so most afternoons we swam in the small pond at our RV park. We swam laps out to the floating dock and back, a great way to cool off. We weren’t the only ones who enjoyed the pond—in the early evenings we watched small groups of ducks and geese fly in for the night. It’s a good thing they stayed in the middle of the pond since we also saw a fox prowl around looking for a quick bite.

Did I mention eating? Later in the week we popped in to the Ben & Jerry’s factory in Waterbury. What a neat story that place has to tell! It all began in 1978 when two hippie friends decided since college wasn’t working out, they would open their own ice cream making business. Armed with a wealth of knowledge from a $5 Penn State University correspondence course on the subject, Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield renovated an old filling station in Burlington and started selling home-made ice cream. The stuff was such a hit they had to close a few days later because they ran out! That won’t happen these days, since the factory makes 250,000 pints a day, five days a week. The company (bought by Unilever in 2000) uses milk from small, local dairy farms that don’t use hormones.

While the quality of the ice cream is unquestionably high it is their fun, inventive and sometimes just plain odd flavors that have made Ben & Jerry’s so popular. Who can resist flavors like Cherry Garcia (the first ice cream ever named after a rock star) or Chubby Hubby or Chunky Monkey? Of course, some of the flavor combos prove to be a bit too odd and are destined for the Ben & Jerry’s Flavor Graveyard (it’s true, they have a small cemetery near the factory for deceased flavors). Take Peanuts and Popcorn or Dastardly Mash for example. Didn’t quite cut it. My new favorite flavor is Vermonty Python: coffee liquor ice cream with chocolate cookie pieces and fudge cows—yummmmmmy! Its a good thing our freezer is small because that was one tempting place.

Some exercise was in order afterwards so we followed the road up to Stowe and hopped on their recreation path. Stowe is a picturesque small town that doubles in size during the ski season. People come from all over to hit the slopes on Mount Mansfield or the cross-country trails at the Trapp Family Lodge. Does the name ring a bell? The lodge is run by members of the von Trapp family of Sound of Music fame. Not big skiers we were happy to wander the trail on our warm afternoon. Besides skipping stones in the stream and relaxing we caught sight of a new bird for us, a Three-toed Woodpecker. There is something exciting about getting acquainted with a new creature.

The next morning we drove out to Ethan Allen’s Homestead, just north of Burlington. Though Allen was born in Connecticut he was heavily invested in the northern part of what would become Vermont. Allen was a big man and not just in stature (he was over 6’ tall, rare for that time) but in reputation too. Depending on which story you read he was either a self-serving man, a kind of Robin Hood, or a traitor. In truth he was probably all those things and more. A potential fortune in land speculating may have brought him to the area but it soon became his dearest cause. Allen, with other family members, not only bought large chunks of land as the Onion River Land Company but they fought for it too. They originally formed the Green Mountain Boys, an unofficial militia, to protect their interests from usurping New Yorkers. But the outbreak of the American Revolution caused them to join the fight against the British.

Allen and the Green Mountain Boys had some stunning successes, notably at Fort Ticonderoga, but a daring attempt to capture Montreal ended in failure. Captured by the British in 1775, Allen was taken to England before being returned to America in a prisoner exchange. By 1778 Allen was back to argue for recognition of Vermont’s independence. By the time the Continental Congress finally admitted Vermont as a state into the union in 1791, Allen had been dead for two years. George Washington had this to say about Allen, “An original something in him that commands admiration.” That is fairly high praise from a man who disdained many New Englanders.

Allen’s final years were spent on his 14,000 acre farm overlooking the Winooski River. Winooski is an Abenaki word meaning wild onion which explains the name of Allen’s land company. His house still stands and the state has done a remarkable job of restoring and interpreting it. You know the old phrase, Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite? Well, our guide explained that back in Allen’s day the adults slept on rope beds and the kids slept on mattress ticks. Every so often the ropes had to be tightened to take up the slack and the ticking changed. (Ticking is stuffing inside the mattress, usually straw or grass from the field which naturally came with bugs.) Amazing how we still say these same things!

After a picnic lunch at the Allen house we headed south through Burlington. The small college town has a beautiful location right on the shore of Lake Champlain. Our destination was just south of town, Magic Hat Brewing Company. The Brewery offers free tours and tastings in a funky, old warehouse next to the railroad tracks. While we thought their beers were tasty we both fell in love with Jinx. They describe it as a smoked beer, I thought it tasted malty and slightly sweet, delicious. One of the few beers we can agree on. It reminded us of Old Monkeyshine which is crafted by Nimbus Brewery back in Tucson. Both are big beers with a really high alcohol content (around 8%) so one is usually enough! Good thing the tastings are just a few ounces because we still had some driving to do.

Our next destination was in New York but first we had to drive across Lake Champlain. Since it is a good size lake there are few crossings so we chose Chimney Point near the south end of the lake. But before we leave the lake I have to tell you about the Lake Monster. Ever heard of “Nessie” the Loch Ness monster? She’s got nothing on Lake Champlain’s “Champ”. The first sightings of Champ far predate Nessie, the local Abenaki and Iroquois tribes have stories going back thousands of years. Samuel de Champlain even wrote about something odd in the lake (of course, in 1609 most things in the New World seemed odd to foreigners).

The first documented report was by a local sheriff in 1883. Through the years, sightings, fuzzy photographs and even recent video recordings have added to the enigma. I found it interesting to learn that both Lake Champlain and Loch Ness were formed about 10,000 years ago and both are over 400’ deep—hmmm, maybe there is something to the legends. At one point in its history Lake Champlain was even connected to the ocean as the fossil shells and whale bones attest. Could there really be sea serpents living in these old bodies of water?

Nothing has been confirmed, so the existence of Champ, like Nessie, remains a question. In a bizarre twist, Champ has been added to Vermont’s Endangered Species List so that if it does exist it will be protected. I’m not joking! The residents of Burlington have a sense of humor about the mysterious creature as they recently renamed their Single A baseball team, the Vermont Lake Monsters. As we drove over the bridge we kept our eyes peeled for Champ but unfortunately we only saw sailboats.

History: Read more about Ethan Allen and the Morgan horse in The Green Mountain State history article here on fautrever.com.

Photos: View our photographs from Vermont.

Notes: We stayed in Vermont from 08/25/07 to 09/01/07.