After a great breakfast at the Danville Restaurant and Inn (Ted had blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup), we start our 49-mile day by entering the trail next to the old Danville train station. The morning is sunny though unseasonably cold in the 50s. Our tires crackle as we pass through a grove of white cedars on both sides of the trail. A tanned, tattooed woman runs past us with a pack of huskies, giving them a workout.
Corn fields are to our right as the distant mountains look to shake the mist that obscures their peaks. Like many rail trails, we pass through cuts of mossy and craggy rock that envelop and cool us.
The day warms quickly making us shed a layer. Ferns and wildflowers decorate the trail sides. Poison hemlock is a common plant with large drifts appearing frequently. But buttercups, red clover, daisies, fleabane, golden rod, and milkweed have also found a place.
Another layer is shedded with the heat and we have reached Joe’s Pond, which looks more like a lake in size. Boats, docks, and houses ring it; a beaver lodge and dam at one of its ends also is in residence.
We have been climbing a long, slight grade all morning. Today’s ride is taking longer than we had been expecting because of all the flats we have had, but we have plenty of time to reach our motel tonight and, like all of our trips, we are in no rush.
Wild roses scent sections of the trail with their thick aroma; soon a skunk counters this with its own unique fragrance.
We take a water break at a recently completed embankment that sits on a culvert that a tractor trailer could drive through. We look high above a gorge that a now placid stream flows by. A passing cyclist tells us that it cost over $8 million to complete and was built after the extreme floods of two years ago washed away the original trail.
As we descend and coast on the trail, Ted notices a cat’s-cradle of blue sugaring tubes that line the trail from tree to tree to tree. They lead to Freddie’s Sugaring House. Later we pass a quartet of much larger tubes that line the trail for over 1/4 of a mile.
The air is fresh with swallowtails and an occasional monarch butterfly along the way.
We now find ourselves in a valley in Greensboro. The heat and sickeningly sweet smell of manure greet us. It is approaching 2 pm and we are hoping to get to Hardwick for lunch. We finally do.
After a filling, late lunch at the Village Restaurant, we push on our final 16 miles. The trail meanders following the Lamoille River with countless switchbacks. It is quite low, with sandbars being a prominent feature. Trees and trash sit high on the banks, washed up during wetter times.
The clouds roll in and a brisk wind looks to push us back. A slight chill emerges and we pedal silently as the shadows lengthen, nearing our motel for the night and a good meal.
