The pastoral islands of Lake Champlain
AS A child growing up in New York City’s suburbs, I cherished our family summer vacations in Vermont, which seemed like a faraway pastoral dream. My perception of the otherness of Vermont was heightened by having to endure the sweaty road trip, trapped in a station wagon, yelling at my sister over the din of highway driving with the windows down, while lurching to avoid my father’s hand swatting back at us. All of this made the sweet relief of arriving, often after dark, even more memorable: the cool, fragrant air; the stars; falling asleep to the lake water lapping and oarlocks knocking.
As an adult, I’ve continued to visit Vermont with my husband’s family, whose “camp”, a modest dwelling that uses lake water for plumbing, is near Lake Champlain. While today it takes less than five hours to get there in our old Honda, with air-conditioning, radio and little suffering, it still feels every bit as blissfully far removed from the madding crowd.
Last spring, when my mother-in-law announced that she was selling the camp, my mind raced. Treasured memories collided with images from my perennial Vermont to-do list. At the top of that list was someplace I had never been: the Lake Champlain islands. Their names had always intrigued me: Isle La Motte, South and North Hero, the town of Grand Isle. I hatched a plan to explore the islands, and, perhaps, to change my mother-in-law’s mind about selling the beloved retreat.
While I still think of Vermont as an “away” sort of place, the Lake Champlain islands are truly other and away. For one thing, the lake itself is enormous, 190 kilometres long and 20 kilometres wide.
The islands are an outdoor lover’s paradise, with state parks, trails, beaches, campgrounds, farms and orchards. The region’s allure is due in no small part to the efforts of initiatives such as the South Hero Land Trust and the Isle La Motte Preservation Trust to eschew commercial development. There are hundreds of acres of wildlife refuges; in particular, the Missisquoi and Sand Bar protected areas are important stopovers for migratory birds.
Cyclists are everywhere: The terrain is mostly flat, there is little traffic, and hostelries cater to riders’ needs. The lake attracts boating enthusiasts and anglers for trout, walleye, perch, landlocked salmon and bass. Last summer, a nearly 2-metre-long endangered lake sturgeon washed up on the beach at Isle La Motte. Not surprisingly, this got folks talking about Champ, the lake’s own mythical Loch Ness monster.
Approaching the lake on US 2 west from Burlington, the terrain gets low and marshy as you pass through the Sand Bar Wildlife Refuge and State Park. Tall poles supporting crowded osprey nests parallel the road, and herons wade in the shallows. Eagle populations have been rebounding here in recent years. When you emerge from the trees onto the causeway, the views are breathtaking. I had to pull over to take it all in: the Green Mountains on my right, Adirondacks on my left, the sparkling lake.
It took days to get beyond South Hero, and not because of traffic or people; the islands remain uncrowded even in summer. Rather, everything conspires to slow you down. Wending along roads punctuated with graceful elms, cornfields and riots of Queen Anne’s lace and blue chicory, there’s always another spot to explore or sit with something fresh from an orchard or farm stand.
I stopped in front of the Apple Island Resort to investigate a handsome red barn, the Arnold Zlotoff Tool Museum, situated on the property. Named for a New York industrial arts teacher who collected early American craft and industry tools, the trove includes everything from bark spuds and froes to twibills and wool wheel fingers.
Another discovery wasWhite’s Beach on West Shore Road, a stretch of sand with a picnic table, volleyball net and Adirondack views. Across the road, a woodsy marsh encircled by trees is festooned with brightly painted birdhouses.
South Hero has two century-old, family-owned apple orchards a kilometre apart on South Street. At Hackett’s, the larger of the two, I sampled a sweet Jersey Mac, among the earliest of the 47 varieties grown here, and a moist cider doughnut.
Inside the Allenholm Farm market, a woman peeled fruit with a hand-crank device, then stepped outside to feed the peels to the donkeys, ponies and goats. Children patted the animals while clutching maple “creemees” (soft-serve ice cream).
Around the corner from White’s Beach is Crescent Bay Farm Bed & Breakfast, a longtime working farm that raises llamas and pigs and produces maple syrup. The family also operates the adjacent Snow Farm Vineyard, known for its ice wine and outdoor concerts featuring local musicians.
Isle La Motte is the smallest, most-isolated island, reachable only by a causeway from Alburgh. It is bikeable, and this is the best way to appreciate the stillness here. Beyond the welcome sign, a weather-beaten marker for Burying Yard Point commemorates six Revolutionary War soldiers who were buried here. At the south end, the Goodsell Ridge Preserve presents an outdoor exhibit of trails and descriptive panels charting the evolution of our planet over millenniums, as illustrated by Chazy Reef fossil remains.
At summer’s end, my husband and I took his mother to the islands for her birthday. After a leisurely drive, we enjoyed a glass of Seyval Blanc at Snow Farm Vineyard and then a wonderful meal at the Blue Paddle Bistro in South Hero. I forget who had the duck breast or the fresh rolls, but I do remember that it was grand and that my mother-in-law was very happy.
And we never heard another word about selling the camp.