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Robert’s Western World
The morning started out a little something like this:
M: Well, the car is nearly packed, what are you going to do with yourself for the rest of the week?
Me: Look for a job I suppose.
M: Want to come to Phoenix?
Me: Sure, why not… I’ll bring my laptop.
M: Really…? Pack a bag while I shower.
And that’s how I ended up spending another five days in a car to Arizona, not before a quick oil change.
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Friday - Day Six
For our sixth and final day on the road, for this leg at least, we headed back home to DC, we jumped on I91 south out of Vermont through Massachusetts on into Connecticut. Before hitting the misery of I95 we stopped at The Thimble Islands, an archipelago (ARK-ih-PEL-ə-goh) just east of New Haven. As we didn’t get a chance to stop in Maine this was the next best thing to Cabot Cove, a cute harbor town that caters mostly to tourists and fishing boats. No Jessica Fletcher though. Tourists we were, so a boat tour we did. There are a few dozen of the islands, all of them uniquely beautiful, and all of them privately owned, with most home to mansions that would make anyone green with envy. Very Connecticut, even by Connecticut standards.
Read MoreHamilton Falls, Jamaica Park
We hadn’t really explored much of Grafton so on our last full day we walked to the village and took a hike through the woods, with the local cheese-monger as our destination. The weather was crisp if not a little warm but we made it at least five miles, high five! I have a love hate relationship with nature, I enjoy it until I see it. Always worried about snakes and other critters, thankfully all we saw along our hike was an eastern newt the size of an AirPod and a tribe of goats. Sadly the cheese-monger was closed, Grafton was celebrating its Memorial Day a few days late with a parade through the town. Resident attendance mandatory, apparently.
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West Dummerston Covered Bridge
We started our first full day in Vermont with coffee and a warm scone from the convenience store in Grafton, we had a couple of places on our agenda, such as Brattleboro and Woodstock (I’m convinced every New England state has a Woodstock) but beyond that it was open roads ahead of us. On route to Brattleboro we passed the West Dummerston covered bridge, spanning the West River, built in 1872 and the longest wholly covered bridge in Vermont. It’s an easy climb down to the water’s edge, with rocks that jut out just enough we were able to climb on and take in the view, it created one of those why don’t we live here moments. We were looking for the nearest kayak.
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