Boisterous ferns wagged at my bike's tires while white pines swayed drunkenly in the breeze above. The entire roadside was rife with the five-pointed leaves of sugar maples; I could practically smell the sap. I was playing tag with the fully blown New England foliage when a gap appeared in the trees and the horizon opened up like a curtain snatched off its rod. A turnout on the cusp of this verdant hill marked the point where the asphalt peaked before its serpentine descent to the other side. The sign read Appalachian Gap. The view? Boundless blue sky above and a whole lot of valley below.
I was on a "yee-haw!" route through the northern part of Vermont's Green Mountains, winding through "topography that only God could have created, on roads only an engineer could have built," as one local put it.
The drill had gone like this all morning, on different paths: Enter narrow back road. Twist and turn to the top. Dismount, gulp fresh Northeastern air and ride to bottom. Repeat at next pass.
Notch-hopping, they call it. "They" being the locals, who also mentioned that there is no better way to experience the intricacies of Vermont's rolling, rural backdrop. You couldn't have asked for a better postcard-the rushing streams and working farms dotting these valleys were straight out of a prop studio.
I got some other good advice, too, such as basing this zig-zag loop out of Burlington-Vermont's cultural capital, which is easy to navigate and not without its charms. There are plenty of places to lay your head, and among the throngs of Birkenstock-wearing locals, I had no problem finding eateries that rated several cuts above the usual fast-food fare. As a bonus, the Lake Champlain Islands-a string of islets running south from Canada to just shy of Burlington-are a stone's throw to the east, should I require a change of scenery. New York lies on the west side of the lake.
If I was riding to eat, a quick jaunt east on U.S. 2 would land me in Waterbury, where I could stop for a spot of Chunky Monkey at the Ben & Jerry's factory just north of town. I also had the option of heading north from there to Mt. Mansfield, the state's highest point and reportedly a blast to ride.
But I had some notches to bag, so I headed south. From Waterbury, laconic Route 100 travels through the heart of the Green Mountains all the way to Massachusetts. It's one of the state's most popular leaf-peeping routes, but more importantly, Route 100 serves as a perfectly scenic north-south axis, offering access points to several notch roads.