Stowe, Vermont October 3, 1978

Today a leisurely drive through a patchwork of green, and sometimes golden, fields flanked by multicoloured forests. Earlier, a heavy autumn fog descended, covering first just the tops, then descending half-way down the hillsides.  Fields of dry brown corn stalks, pumpkins on front porches, apple cider stands. Every so often a Small American town. First a few shacks and mobile homes. Then a few run down but once elegant wood-frame houses, always white, and always peeling. 



As I neared Stowe the late afternoon sun transformed this already lovely landscape into something spectacular – electrifying the red maples, golden oaks and yellow birches, intensifying the black lattice-work of the branches that laced, like fingers over the road. Every now and again a tall slender birch shone like a lone silver spire – a magical wand – against the colourful backdrop.


Stowę’s a tourist town with lovely old buildings – craft stores, art galleries, ski shops – all tarted up.  It’s a very attractive place.  Even the signs are a treat to look at. 

Asking around about local hikes I was told I could simply walk up one of the ski runs.  So up we drove to where a ski-run ended, and started to climb... to the top of the double chair, where we were rewarded with a superlative view.  I climbed a support tower to get a ‘better view’, but found it no better there than right here.  The spectacularity, the amazingness, is just all all around us. 



Deciding to spend some time here we headed to the local campground, a well-treed, pleasant place, with hot showers!  It just doesn’t get any better. 

Location: Stowe, VT 05672, USA

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