Everyone tells you New England is the place for fall foliage. I nodded politely at this for years. Then I went, and now I’m one of those people too.
The drive from Boston up through New Hampshire into Vermont is the kind of view that quietly insults every postcard you’ve ever seen of it. Greens fading into yellows fading into reds fading into a warm, lit-from-inside brown. Every turn, another one.
Same friends, slower bedtime
I almost didn’t go. Rathi had to ask me three or four separate times before I caved, and within an hour of getting there I felt stupid for the hesitation. The trip turned into a CMU reunion, which is its own kind of mirror. You find out who you still are by who you fall back into being. We used to grind on assignments until 3 AM, hit Sheetz for whatever was sitting under the heat lamp, and close the loop with breakfast at IHOP. Now everyone fades around 10:30. But Rathi’s sweet tooth is fully intact, and my poker game has not slipped.
Two hikes, both worth it
We did three trails in two days. If you can only do two: Artist Bluff in New Hampshire and Stowe Pinnacle Trail in Vermont. Artist Bluff is about fifteen minutes up, steep and short, basically a roadside payoff. Plan for a crowd. The view is the kind where a stranger next to you will say “wow” out loud and you will not be embarrassed for them. Stowe Pinnacle is the quieter sister: longer, moderate, with flat stretches that let you actually talk to the people you came with, and a summit that feels earned.
Vermont is showing off
Vermont’s food situation got sneaky. The signature is the creemee, a maple soft serve where the maple is so understated you spend the first three licks trying to confirm it’s there, and the next seven trying to make it last. Vermont dairy in general is showing off. We had a cheese pizza at Papa Tirozzi that had no business being that good. After hikes, we cracked a bottle from Barr Hill, who makes spirits with raw honey, which sounds like a craft-store gimmick and turns out to be one of the more interesting things I’ve drunk in a year.
Ben & Jerry’s was a no-go. The line was a scene, and I’m not standing in a line that long for a scoop I can get at any Whole Foods. Next time.
I left already plotting a Connecticut return, mostly so I can catch a UConn women’s game before Paige leaves for the W. Two more New England trips in me, easy.