Day 4

We woke up late today. Usually the heat in the tent wakes me up, but it’s cool out this morning. Furthermore, it looks like rain, leaving me feeling unmotivated. We struggled out of the tent sometime around 10:30 or 11, packed the car, took showers, and left.

On our way back into Bennington, we stopped at Linda’s, a nice looking restaurant on the outskirts of town. I ordered the mysterous sounding western sandwich. This is not something I expected to see in New England—perhaps it’s a phenomena of western new England. The sandwich contains a bacon, onion, pepper omelet. I figured this was a good compromise between breakfast and lunch. The food was all right, nothing special though. More interesting was the plethora of other things they sold. Bikes, dolls, even boots. I don’t know where all this stuff comes from, but it seemed a bit odd to me.

We headed for the obelisk that we sighted on the western side of town last night. It is not on the main road so I just drove toward it. But we began to pass it, so we turned on the road to the airport and circled back, arriving right next to it. It sits in a large square with a thin road around it and very nice houses on the other side of the road and on all the roads leading out of the square.

There was a school field trip visiting but they were just finishing up lunch on the lawn and the teachers were trying to round everyone up and make sure everyone had a chance at the bathroom. We wandered around and inside the bottom of the tower. The monument was erected for those who served in the Revolutionary War and died in the Battle of Bennington.

The Battle of Bennington took place on August 16, 1777, five miles northwest of this monument in New York State. At this site was the supply depot they were defending. John Stark commanded the American troops and John Burgoyne commanded the British forces. The British had just recaptured Fort Ticonderoga and were planning to cut off New England from the rest of the colonies. The British began their advance but met resistance in the battle at Hubbardton, Vermont, located above Rutland. The British forces were running low on supplies and decided to try and take the depot in Bennington. The two units of British, Indian, Loyalist, and German mercenaries were defeated, but the British regrouped and as the American forces were returning to Bennington, the British attacked again. The newly formed State of Vermont had asked New Hampshire for assistance and as the Americans were losing ground to the British, Colonel Seth Warner appeared with his Green Mountain Boys to tip the scales and defeat the British once again.

The obelisk monument was proposed in 1854, but it was shelved after the fundraising efforts were unsuccessful. Soon after the nation’s centennial, the project was reborn and the fundraising was more aggressive with hopes of finishing it by the Vermont centennial in 1891. The cornerstone was laid in 1887 and it was completed and dedicated in 1891. It is 306 feet tall and is the tallest structure in Vermont. For one dollar you can ride the recently installed elevator to the top, but it was so overcast today we figured we wouldn’t see too far out of town.

The metal staircase that winds its way around the inside wall was closed. With only four inches between each step, they were built to try to accommodate people of all ages and strengths. In front of the obelisk is a statue of Seth Warner standing with one arm across his chest and the other holding a sword. Soon, we left this chapter of the Revolutionary War but our next park, Saratoga Battlefield, will open another important chapter.

We proceeded back into Bennington and toward New York. Once at NY 22, we turned north and followed it through Hoosick Falls. Then we turned west on NY 67 to Mechanicville and US 4. Saratoga National Historical Park is just a few miles north. Passing through the old industrial section of Stillwater along the Hudson, we soon arrived at the park. There is a long, scenic drive into the visitor center, where we were greeted by a friendly volunteer. They have a small museum of artifacts and a film we chose not to stay for. We also chose not to purchase a ticket for the park tour road. This is a road that winds its way around the park with stops along the way describing historical events which took place at that site and showing any fortifications and trails used.

The overall gist of the battle is this. Remember John Burgoyne, General in the Royal Army who thought he could cut off New England from the rest of the colonies? He strongly believed that the Hudson River was of prime import in the war and that he needed control of its benefits at all cost. His campaign of 1777 took him from St. Johns (now St. Jean), Canada on the Richelieu River south along Lake Champlain and the Hudson River to Crown Point, Fort Ticonderoga, the Battle of Hubbardton, then Bennington, and finally to Saratoga (now Schuylerville). Once at Saratoga though, he was met by American forces on September 19, 1777. Battles ensued and the British, with no support in sight, were weakened until October 17 when they finally surrendered their 6,000-man army. This was perhaps one of the most important victories in the Revolutionary War and halted the British advance from Canada.

Eight miles up the road is the Schuyler House. It was the home of General Philip Schuyler before and after the battle. It was burned down by the British but rebuilt in 1777. We didn’t stop in but had time to look upon the house as we waited at a red light in front of the grounds.

Rather than drive deep into Adirondack Park and cross Lake Champlain on the northern crossing (US 2 near the Canadian border), we chose the southern crossing. We continued up US 4 leaving the side of the Hudson and continuing north to pickup NY 22 again. We can’t stay away from this road! This takes us up by the extreme southern tip of Lake Champlain and into Adirondack Park. Once in Ticonderoga, I wanted to try and find Mt. Defiance. I don’t exactly know what it is, but it looks interesting as a point of interest on the map. Drove through “downtown” Ticonderoga but only saw one sign for Mt. Defiance. After driving around town a bit, we ended up finding NY 22 again, so I conceded this one and kept going.

Soon we were at the bridge to Vermont. This bridge joins two peninsulas. In New York there is Crown Point, where there is a campground, and in Vermont there is Chimney Point with DAR State Park. This area of the lake has been used for over 12,000 years by Native Americans, then by the French who settled in the 1690s. The British chased them both out eventually, and now we use it for public recreation. Refreshingly, there is no toll for the bridge.

Now we were on VT 17 and I asked Suzanne to figure out where we were going. We wanted to go toward New Hampshire so it was her job to get us there. Her choice of routes was excellent. She said, “Why don’t we just stay on 17 then take 100 up to 2.” This sounded fine to me so here we go! VT 17 started out a thick red road then changed into a thin red road finally becoming a gray road.

The ride started out in a flat agricultural area with some heavy rain. The rain lightened up and we left the farms behind for the scenic mountains. It went right into the Green Mountains on a windy, hairpin-turn path across a ridge of mountains. If it were not so cloudy, we would have had excellent views, but as I so poetically put it, “Another view down the toilet.” At least it was not pouring. The forest floor was covered with green and occasionally a small mountain stream would tumble off the rocks into a large stream flowing down the mountain beside the road. The highest peak near the road is Stark Mountain at 3,662 feet. There were not really any other cars or, for that matter, any sort of civilization around. It was wonderful. I’ll probably go back someday when I can actually see something beyond half a mile.

On our way down, we slowly descended back into rural civilization with the reappearance of shacks surrounded by piles of junk that seem so typical in these parts. Soon it was north on VT 100 toward US 2. This road was built along the Winooski River and parallels Interstate 89. Before long we were in Montpelier, the capital of Vermont. It is a small city of about 8,500 people. Route 2 passes right in front of the gold-domed capitol building. This is a small building, seemingly perfect for Vermont. It is built against a hill so the background of green trees really makes the gold dome and white walls stand out, even on a gray day.

We continued heading east on US 2—once again into the mountains. It was about five in the afternoon when we reached Groton State Forest. Last time Suzanne and I looked at the atlas and tried to find a place to stay for the night, this looked like it was a possibility. It was far enough that we thought it would be a good place to stop. So we turned off US 2 onto VT 232 and up the mountain we went. We drove and drove and discussed the remainder of the day, where we would eat, etc. Our discussions led to one conclusion—we can drive a little more today. Rather than stop now, why not drive farther, it’ll make us closer to wherever we would be tomorrow. So I turned the car around, wishing we’d made this decision about five miles back, not regretting the scenic drive though. We figured we could get to New Hampshire, at least. So, once again it was east on US 2 through St. Johnsbury, Vermont, toward the Connecticut River, which separates the two states.

As soon as we crossed the Connecticut River we entered Lancaster, New Hampshire, a small town with major road problems. They had construction signs all over the place reading “Caution Scarified Pavement.” The road throughout the town was scraped down to some prehistoric level of asphalt with about as many pot holes as actual road surface. Motorcyclists would be lucky to come out of this town alive.

The road was leveling out now as we entered the Washington Valley. Two landmark tourist traps worth noting: Santa’s Village and Six Gun City. Santa’s Village is a tacky roadside attraction that’s like a cross between a miniature golf course and a waterslide, but it looks like a large, plaster of paris igloo with other brightly colored Christmas-like sculptures littering the landscape. Needless to say, it was not exactly packed with people today. Six Gun City is a tasteless attraction which is basically a strip mall with an old-west, ghost-town, wood-plank sidewalk feel to it. Something that really reflects the local culture, right? There was not one car in the parking lot. Okay, it was a rainy day, I’ll give it that.

It was now going on six or seven and we were approaching Moose Brook State Park. We figured we’d look here first, then keep driving if it didn’t look good. Well, I thought the park looked nice, it was very pretty. Suzanne thought the ranger looked nice, so it wasn’t a hard decision-making process tonight. It looked like it could rain at any moment so we were rushed to get the tent up.

We set up the tent and settled into our bug-infested home for the night. Our site was in total shade. Actually, most of the campground was. Surrounding us was forest with moss covering the ground everywhere, flowing off the roots and tree branches like water. We talked in the tent about where we wanted to go tomorrow. I was looking at the map of Maine, eyeing up Moosehead Lake to the north. Would this be too far for the drive back to Saxtons on Sunday?

We figured we’d drive and see how far we get, then plan for the following day once we were there. This is not the smartest thing, but Suzanne was really not too worried about getting there early. I was going to count the miles in the atlas, but after sitting in the tent for a while, after a day of driving, I was too relaxed to actually get up and do something that would involve using my brain. Looking at the map, I figured that we could stop in some of the closer parks if we thought Moosehead was too far.

There is a park right near the New Hampshire border on Lake Mooselookmeguntic, an equally impressive name. There’s also Mt. Blue State Park—we’ll play it by ear. Then we started talking about the coast and Suzanne seemed to like this idea. I said Acadia National Park is beautiful, but it’s pretty far. Before I knew it the whole northern lakes plan was out the tent window and we were now going to go for the coast. This was not a problem—actually, I was looking forward to it.

With a semi-firm plan we went to sleep and listened to the sprinkling rain hit the nylon rainfly covering our tent.