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Wandering on a Whim: Lake Champlain Islands
Frederick News-Post, October 14, 2007
As we cruise US-2, leaving behind mainland Vermont and crossing over to the Lake Champlain Islands, I marvel out loud that no one I had talked to in all the months of planning our New England road trip had mentioned this place. My husband Jeff and I are on a whirlwind eleven-day trip in search of the best the northeastern United States has to offer: Cape Cod clam shacks, Vermont villages, Bar Harbor boat trips. On this particular day we had planned to visit Burlington, but when I trip over a tiny paragraph about the Lake Champlain Islands in one of our guidebooks, we decide to speed past Burlington and see what the islands have to offer.
Dividing Vermont from New York and edging across the border into Canada, Lake Champlain is the sixth largest freshwater lake in the United States. Dotting its surface are numerous small islands, with Grand Isle and North Hero the most significant of the lake's landmasses.
Entering the islands from the south via Grand Isle, we first hit the town of South Hero, although I'm not really sure I'd call it a town. There's no central square, no main shopping center, just residences and small local businesses strewn alongside country roads.
Allenholm Farms is the first place we pass that catches my eye, and before the car's fully parked in the gravel lot, I'm halfway down a row of apple trees. Between August and October, seventeen different varieties of apples are available for picking in the farm's orchard. I admire the red blush of the ripening apples, and fight my desire to fill baskets full of the bounty. I know myself well enough to know that once I start picking I won't stop until I have bushels, and with over a week of car travel still in front of us, this isn't a wise move. It doesn't make it easier to walk away, however.
Luckily, the farm store seems to have people like me in mind. If I can't pick my own apples and transform them into my own delicious creations, I can at least buy just about every apple product imaginable: apple jam, apple butter, apple pie, applesauce, and apples, plain and simple.
Before we leave, we pop into the petting paddock where Papa Ray, the farm's owner, introduces us to Willie, a donkey who doesn't mind if you climb on his back for a picture, and Fergie, a shaggy Scotch Highland Cow. A bantam hem with the world's worst bed-head has me scurrying after her with a camera, but she could care less for me and refuses to strike a pose.
Pulling away, we see a small sign for Snow Farm Vineyard. "Why not?" we figure. This is a day for following whims, which means that when we approach the corner of Lakeshore Drive and Shore Road on our way to the vineyard and are confronted by a sea of brightly colored bird houses hanging on every tree in sight, I pull over for a better look. As I snap photos, wondering just what kind of art display I've encountered, I'm lucky enough to be approached by the maker of these houses.
Turns out he didn't intend for the bird houses to be a piece of public art; his original intent was much more about function than form. He recalls for me the difficulty he and his wife had enjoying evenings outside because of the heavy mosquito population, then relays how fifteen years ago, in an attempt to solve the problem, he built twenty bird houses for tree swallows, who prey on mosquitoes. He found the swallows were happy to help him out in exchange for the housing, so to keep up the collaboration, he's been adding houses each year. Currently there are over 400 in the trees around his property. "The occupancy rate is around 70%," he says, noting that he must clean out each house at the end of the season because tree swallows will return only to the clean boxes. I admire this dedication, then ask about the colors. "That," he says, "is my wife's doing. The houses were my idea, but she suggested the bright paint."
So far the Lake Champlain Islands have been one delight after another, and when we arrive at Snow Farm, we find that it doesn't break our chain of success. Opened in 1996 by proprietors dedicated to preserving Vermont land for agriculture, Snow Farm was Vermont's first vineyard. I browse around the shop--local cheeses, chocolates, and maple products--before taking my place at the tasting counter, where we take advantage of the three free tastes. When we leave, I'm carrying a bottle of 2006 Estate Baco Noir, a log of Cabot cheddar, and a cucumber and tomato. I'm thinking picnic.
A late breakfast at a New Hampshire diner called Tooky's means we're still not hungry though it's technically lunch time, so while the grapevine-side picnic tables look inviting, it's back in the car. Windows down, we roll through gentle hillside, past farms, antique shops, and bed and breakfasts, the glistening water of Lake Champlain not too far in any direction. Only a few other cars ask to share the road, but there are plenty of cyclists: major enthusiasts dressed in high-tech gear and more leisurely riders just out for the fun of it. I'm a bit jealous, since I can't imagine a much better way to see the islands than by bike. "Next time," I think, reminding myself that this trip is about sampling, about finding those places worth a return visit.
Passing over a small drawbridge, we're suddenly on the island of North Hero. A few miles down US-2, and I'm wishing we had a night to spend here. The Adirondack chairs sprinkled across the grounds of Shore Acres Inn are calling my name. It's all I can do to resist; only the thought of uncovering other unexpected gems keeps me from running up to the reservation desk and securing a room for the week.
Hero's Welcome seems to be the focal point of North Hero. A general store in the truest sense of the world, the offerings include groceries, souvenirs, candy by the pound, clothes, gardening gear, household supplies, and anything else you could need or want. There's also a post office, a bakery, and a cafe. No wonder the parking lot is full of cars and bikes and the dock out back has a handful of boats tied to it. I pick up a loaf of crusty bread and some candy for our picnic, but make a mental note to try one of the fresh-made sandwiches next time I visit the islands. Piled high and named after local legends, the sandwiches start my mouth watering, and I figure it's just about time for our picnic.
But as we head toward Alburg Dunes State Park, not technically on one of the islands but instead located on the Alburg Peninsula, I find one more place to stop before setting the spread. The store is called Shoreline Chocolates, but I'm not there for the desserts; I'm there for the goat cheese produced by Lakes End Dairy. We're greeted by the goats themselves upon arrival, all scrambling at the ringing of a bell, hoping that we're going to treat them to some of the feed pellets dispensed nearby. I leave Jeff playing with the goats while I head in to make the purchase. For me, there's not a cheese better than chevre, and the round I buy here turns out to be the ideal marriage of creaminess and tanginess.
With both of our stomachs rumbling, we grab a picnic table by the lake's edge at Alburg Dunes State Park and feast. It's the best lunch I've had in weeks. Childish shouts of delight (in both English and French thanks to the fact that Quebec is only eleven miles north) pierce the air. The bluebird day has brought families to the beach. Out on the water, boats sail past. Full and content, Jeff and I sprawl out and enjoy the sunshine, pleased with the way this day has unfolded.
Too soon the sun starts to dip into the lake, so we point our car back toward Burlington, where we have a hotel reservation. The short span of the bridge from the islands to the mainland--less than a mile--is surprising, because the islands seem so far removed from the rest of the world. It's hard to leave them behind, but I console myself with thoughts of next time. Next time, I think to myself, I'll stay longer, claim one of the waterfront chairs at Shore Acres and waste away the day reading by the water. Next time, I'll pick all the apples I can carry. Next time I'll rent a bike and putter around the islands. Next time, I think, can't come soon enough.
If you go:
Getting There
The nearest airport is Burlington, although it may be more cost efficient to fly into Boston and then make the 3.5 hour drive. From Frederick, the drive to the Lake Champlain Islands takes approximately 9 hours.
Where to Stay
Rates at Shore Acres (www.shoreacres.com, 802-378-8722) range from $114.50 to $196.50 depending on season and number and size of beds. Amenities include tennis, swimming, a nine-hole golf course, and outdoor games such as croquet.
A list of island accommodations can be found on the Lake Champlain Islands Chamber of Commerce Web site (www.champlainislands.com). Offerings include cottages, campgrounds, bed and breakfasts, and small inns.
In nearby Burlington, you can find budget and chain hotels. The North Star Motel (www.northstarmotelvt.com, 802-863-3421) offers basic but clean and comfortable rooms at budget rates.
What to Do
Pick-your-own apples are available at Allenholm Farm (www.allenholm.com) from August through October. The South Hero Applefest takes place every year on Columbus Day weekend. The farm also rents bicycles. Adult bicycles cost $25 per day, and child bicycles cost $15 per day. Discounts are available for longer rentals.
Snow Farm Vineyard (www.snowfarm.com) offers free tastings of their thirteen different wines.
Hero's Welcome (www.heroswelcome.com) is worth browsing even if you're not looking to buy anything. Sandwiches cost about $6.
Alburg Dunes State Park (www.vtstateparks.com/htm/alburg.cfm) is a great location for picnicking, hiking, or enjoying the water.
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