We're dog-sitting at Jeremy and Hercilia's place this week. It's barely 7AM and their twelve year old german shorthaired pointer, Roscoe, is whimpering from the living room, begging for us to wake up and pay attention to him. Little does he know, he's about to get his wish, and then some. A few days ago, the masons who did the finishing on our concrete slab told us about a nice little swimming hole nearby: Grout Pond. Today, we're taking Roscoe on a short road trip while we check it out.
Even though the pond is only fifteen miles from our land, the drive there will take about an hour. The shortest route from here is a dirt road that been impassible ever since hurricane Irene washed away a bridge in the middle of it. Instead, we'll be taking a circuitous trek through the Green Mountain National Forest. We can hardly complain about this inconvenience—the scenery is outstanding!
Arriving at the recreation area, we're absolutely floored. This is no pond, it's a lake, and it's far more picturesque than the name "Grout" could ever indicate. Not only that, but this is a weekend in tourist season, on the only sunny day in recent memory, and the place is nearly empty! How is this possible!?
I freaking love our new home state.
We're not equipped for a full day of picnicking and swimming, so after a bit of wandering and wading, we head out in search of food. We find just the thing in the town of West Townshend, where a gaggle of ten-year-old girls is shouting and jumping up and down by the side of the road, holding handmade signs advertising their church's tag sale.
The girls point towards the parking-lot, and we follow their commands, lured by their enthusiasm. Meanwhile, they cheer and high-five one another, reveling in their success. We poke around the tag sale, and decide that we don't need to buy any knick-knacks, books, or used clothes.
We do need food, however, and a "hot dog supreme combo" sounds just about right. With lemonade from a Coleman cooler, a bag of potato chips, a freshly-grilled hot dog, and a neon-green Mr. Freeze in hand, we have a summer-in-a-small-town meal at its finest.
With full bellies, with hit the road once more, ready for a meandering ride home. We don't take the time for mini-adventures all that much these days, opting instead to get as much work done as we can on our land. But oh how important it is to get out, to set work aside for a little while, and declare a weekend a weekend. WIth the sun shining and the windows down, it's finally summer in Vermont!
