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.
Everywhere in Vermont is quaint and rural and full of bakeries, antique shops and somehow always home to a covered bridge, and no matter where you are it manages to make a rundown place into something striking, and Rockingham is no different. It’s where we settled on for lunch
Despite our (my) craziness we took our new Insta-friend’s recommendation and set out to Hamilton Falls, on the edge of Jamaica State Park in Southern Vermont. With cell service dropping the closer we got the more paranoid I got, I decided to check on our new friends whereabouts, according to their story they were at home laying roof shingles. We were safe. New friends if you’re reading this, I’m really not crazy.
Hamilton Falls, at 125 feet is a cascading waterfall rushing down the side of the mountain, cutting through the granite to a watering hole at the base that whirls into a cavern before flowing out into the creek. It’s a steep climb down, with uneven terrain - there’s a sign warning of your impending death, and a ladder extending down into the uppermost pool, not for you to climb down to but for emergency workers to use to carry your lifeless body from, from either drowning or murder. But if you are careful you’ll be fine, and rewarded at the end. At the base the water is clear as day and the views up to the falls are breathtaking. It’s incredibly remote, we were alone for the most part of our adventure but were eventually joined by a college aged couple who used the location to enjoy a little undisturbed pot.
All this hiking made us hungry, for our last nights dinner we dined at the Phelps Barn Pub in the Grafton Inn, we wanted to support local and very glad we did. I’ve no doubt everything on the menu is great but I ordered the surf n turf, and we also convinced the bartender to sell us a bottle of wine to-go which we enjoyed back at the cabin with some cheese we purchased at the store, not at the cheese-monger.