We left New Hampshire and headed to Vermont. While I had been looking forward to the trip as a whole, Vermont was to be one of the highlights for me. Kenn kept asking me what I wanted to see in Vermont and my answer was always “I just want to see Vermont.” What’s not to love? Rolling, tree-covered mountains reflecting the changing of the seasons. Perfection, right? Alas, not so much.
While I enjoyed the scenery, our stay in Vermont got off to a rough start. Our arrival at the campground we selected was a comedy of errors. The directions provided by the manager left a lot to be desired and her gruffness rubbed me the wrong way. I also wasn’t thrilled with our campsite but we were only going to be there two nights so it wasn’t the end of the world.


It was an overcast day but we headed out to get the lay of the land. While Vermont was every bit as gorgeous as I expected it to be, I just wasn’t feeling it – not even when the sun came out and the clouds started breaking up.

Of course, we had to stop and take pictures of covered bridges.

Our campground was only a few miles from Stowe, Vermont. A lot of the “iconic” Vermont photos that I have seen were taken in Stowe. We did a drive-through of the town in preparation to spending time there the next day. Once again, I wasn’t feeling it. After two trips to Bar Harbor, I did not have another trip to another touristy town in me. Later that evening back at the camper, Kenn went out to put the satellite dish on the roof and came back in wearing his “I’m injured” expression. (I have become well acquainted with this expression over the years.) When he was coming down the ladder, his wedding ring got caught on a screw; he was lucky he didn’t deglove or lose the finger. It took some work and some of the oil I put on my dry hair but we managed to get his ring off and put it on the necklace he always wears. (It was a couple of months before the swelling in his finger went down enough for him to get his ring back on.)
Later that evening I had to admit that I was done. I was ready to go home. At that point we had been on the road for three weeks and even if we drove non-stop it would still take us another week or so to get home. During the course of our trip our then pregnant daughter-in-law was admitted to the hospital with gall bladder issues, my oldest sister had a stroke, and our youngest son’s girlfriend’s mom died from COVID after several months in ICU. I needed to see and touch my people and know that they were okay. Kenn admitted that he was ready to head home as well so we cancelled the second night of our stay and hit the road home the next day. (In spite of my first impression, the campground manager was nice. She sent us on our way with some extra sharp cheddar cheese and maple syrup, both products of Vermont. We even got a Christmas card from her.)
Next up, New York state. Until then, happy trails!
Oh, the perils of the wedding ring! You were smart to get it off right away. I used to wear mine all the time…and then I smashed it into hitter when I was blocking during a volleyball game. Finger swelled and I couldn’t get it off. Finally had to cut it off when I was pregnant.
That does seem a sad end to your trip. Completely understandable that you’d want to get home.
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My husband was horrified when I told him we needed to get his ring off immediately. He said “It’s going to hurt.” I told him it would hurt worse when his finger swelled to the point that the ring had to be cut off. It was a relief that we were able to get it off; I’m not sure that we would have if we’d waited much longer.
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Sometimes you just want to go home.
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Indeed. This is why I will never be a full-time RVer; I’m always going to want a fixed home to return to.
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The bridge is nice!
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