This is Hildene, the summer home of Robert Todd Lincoln, in Manchester, Vermont. He wasn’t the important Lincoln but apparently had enough cash to upgrade the old log cabin. We were just passing by, so we didn’t stop in for a house tour. But the grounds afforded us a nice stroll on a pleasant summer day.
It’s a shame that the only Magic Hat beer you typically see is their #9, Not Quite Pale Ale. #9 is reportedly the brewery’s best seller, but I don’t know if that is because it is the most popular or because it is the beer that is most widely distributed. It’s a little hard to buy the beers that aren’t on the shelf. But maybe they’re not on the shelf because no one buys them.
This is clearly the kind of riddle that would confound Buddha; what is the taste of a beer not drank? We could meditate on this eternal puzzle, or we could take a pilgrimage to the Magic Hat brewery in South Burlington, Vermont and judge for ourselves. This was obviously a tough call: meditate in hope of enlightenment or drink beer.
Well, after indulging in a tasting of Magic Hat’s full lineup, we did indeed find enlightenment. We also learned that #9 isn’t their best beer. It’s probably not even in the top three. That’s not to say #9 is a bad beer. We actually like it a lot. It’s certainly a far, far better beer for Magic Hat than it was a song for the Beatles (not exactly high praise, I know). But we just like some of their other offerings better.
The surprise standout was Circus Boy, their Hefeweizen. I say surprising because neither of us typically likes wheat beers, but this one struck us as just right. Blind Faith, one of their original IPAs, and Single Chair Ale were also extraordinarily good. A beer that we probably owe a second tasting to is Encore, an interesting blend of an American wheat beer and a traditional pale ale. It has tons of flavor and a terrific mouth feel but just hit the wrong chord somehow. It is a unique enough beer to warrant a tasting, or in our case, a second chance; so give it a try if you see it.
The brewery offers self-guided and guided tours free of charge. Beer tasting is also served up at the delicious price of zero dollars. They do ask you to kindly refrain from stealing their glasses. If you want a souvenir, buy a growler. You’ll enjoy it more, anyway. And don’t forget to tip the bartender. Remember, you are drinking for free . . . cheapskate!
A casual glance at this blog might give the impression that we have some kind of obsession with waterfalls. They have been a recurring theme lately, to be sure. That is really a function of two things: we like hiking but we also want there to be a payoff. Certainly wandering in the woods is better than a day in the office, but just seeing this isn’t usually enough reason to get us to go. Instead, we look for interesting destinations that we can’t drive to. In this part of the country, more often that not, that tends to be waterfalls. We’ve traversed ice caves and trekked to gorgeous vistas, and we hope to discover more unusual things in our travels. We gladly explore what an area has to offer. I imagine when we get out west, we will bore you with endless pictures of dry, red rocks. But until then, you’ll probably continue to see things like this . . .
Moss Glen Falls, in Stowe, Vermont, is a 125-foot waterfall that emerges from a gorge cut in the schist by Moss Glen Brook. The trail winds through spooky woods to the top of the gorge for a look at the falls from above. The hike is simple enough, but can be treacherous as slippery rocks and branches have the potential to send a careless hiker to the bottom of the gorge. Luckily, we survived the excursion and look forward to tempting fate again another day.
Although pictures are said to be worth one thousand words, even photographs are sometimes rendered speechless when trying to describe something as awesome as a powerful waterfall. In those instances, video helps, but still pales in comparison.
There is something about this Jeep that has me rethinking our plans. As I mentioned earlier, our existing car isn’t suitable to tow, so we’ll eventually have to replace it with something else. We had pretty much decided on getting a Honda Fit for a whole host of really boring practical reasons. It’s inexpensive, light weight, has plenty of cargo capacity, gets great gas mileage, Zzzzzzzzzz.
But lately we’ve been running into a fair number of unpaved roads, which I didn’t really expect in the North East. I’m wondering what we’ll encounter when we head west. So we’ve been thinking that the dainty little Fit might not get us everywhere we want to go. And how practical is that?
And then today we see this bad boy, tricked out for serious off-roading. It even has the requisite mud splatters to prove it is legit. But there is something else here that I can’t quite put my finger on. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but for some reason I really want a Jeep now.
We’re suckers for furry critters, so we couldn’t pass up an opportunity to stop at the Alpaca Shack in North Bennington, Vermont. Or, it could be that I just like saying “Alpaca Shack.” Whatever the reason, this small, independently owned alpaca breeder, with its postage stamp sized retail store (an actual “shack”), is not something you’ll find in any guidebook. But if you’re in the area, it’s a worthwhile stop. The effusive owner is proud to introduce you to her extremely friendly animals, all of which know their names (meet baby Vaughana to the left). In the process she will also tell you more than you ever wanted to know about almost everything, and a little something about alpacas, too.
Alpaca Advice: To see the beasties in their full, fuzzy, glory, try to visit in cooler months when they’re less likely to be shorn.
Everywhere Once 