Vermont’s country roads, taking you home

The back roads of southern Vermont are a driver’s dream. Lush with sugar maple, ash, beech, pine and white birch trees, the landscape reveals itself as the pavement dips and twists, cars gliding across asphalt as if on a gentle roller-coaster ride.

It’s the kind of place that makes me open the windows and crank up the music — preferably a favorite CD from high school days — and sing at the top of my lungs as old weathered barns, new red barns and scenery so picturesque it looks fake scroll past. Every half mile, or so it seems, there’s a handmade sign with an arrow pointing the way to maple syrup, fresh eggs, antiques, pottery and other Vermont-y things. Around each corner, a murmuring brook or a gently flowing river reflects small diamonds of sunlight onto the trees. In Vermont, even the wilderness seems well groomed.

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(The Washington Post)

The Impulsive Traveler: Details, southern Vermont

On a recent visit, I was happy to find these idyllic qualities intact, even thriving, especially in the small towns along routes 30 and 100 that were hit hard last August by Hurricane Irene. That storm spared the Northeast coast but swept through Vermont with devastating consequences. Rivers swelled beyond their banks; roads, bridges and houses were destroyed in muddy deluges. Today, the roads are repaired. Though some projects are still underway, the area is ready for visitors.

West Townshend was my base of operations, specifically the impeccably landscaped Windham Hill Inn, where I stayed during my solo trip. The inn is located near three ski areas — Magic, Stratton and Bromley mountains — though you don’t need snow to enjoy the region. I found pretty much everything I was looking for as I cruised the winding roads, stopping in Jamaica, Londonderry, Windsor, Putney and Brattleboro on my self-proclaimed Crafts, Cheese, Beer and Sheep Tour.

Dropping into the Jamaica Coffee House for organic fair-trade coffee and home-baked goods, I encountered Skip Woodruff, a custom furniture maker whose shop across the street is stocked with Adirondack and camp-style hickory furniture.

“In the 1980s, you couldn’t find a place to park in this village,” said Woodruff, looking out at the quiet street. “I don’t know what happened. It’s like some kind of switch got flipped and people want more glitzy vacations.”

It’s true. Most of these towns, with signs boasting mid-18th-century founding dates, are the opposite of glitzy. For me, that’s a good thing. In Jamaica, time slowed down as I poked through the aisles of colorful recycled-glass objects for sale at Hot Glass Works, perused paintings and fine-art prints at Elaine Beckwith Gallery and took a brief stroll along the recreational trails in the 772-acre Jamaica State Park.

Then it was on to Londonderry, where the D. Lasser Ceramics studio, in a post and beam barn, and its adjacent showroom sprawl across a hillside, impressing with an array of handmade platters, bowls, teapots, pitchers, tiles, candlesticks and pie plates hand-painted in vibrant colors and patterns with names such as Galaxy, Marigold Poppy and Planet Green.