Breakfast was standard hotel fare though the blue berry muffins were significantly above average. Since this was a short day, we stopped at Starbucks in Rutland and savored (if that’s the right word) a coffee and hung out until about 9:30. The first half of the ride was on secondary roads meandering through farmland occasionally punctuated by a large solar collection arrays. We estimated the largest to be between 3 and 5 megawatts. We were well into the ride when after a particularly steep but short climb followed by an equally steep downhill, we encountered a sign stating Road Closed Ahead. At that point turning around meant that we would have to ride most of the way back to Rutland to take a different route. We said, “screw it, we’ll find out what lies ahead.” Unfortunately finding out involved a moderate climb of about a mile. Just as we crested the top, a UPS truck drove by. We looked at each other thinking, if a UPS guy is up here headed the same direction we are, the road must go through. It did. The closed section had just been repaved, at most, two days before. Heavy equipment was still parked on the side of the road.

As we continued on, the road changed to highly compressed dirt. About a mile down the road, we encountered another road closed sign. We’d passed the UPS guy while he was making a stop, but he then passed us, again going the same way we were. Shortly, we came to a place where work was being done on a creek crossing but it was passable. The UPS guy went through right in front of us and the workmen allowed us to go through as well. Free and clear to continue on to rejoin Route 7 in Brandon.

Brandon is a place of special meaning to Len and Toby and me who passed through this place 13 years ago on our cross-country ride. “Mind the gap!” That is Brandon Gap. Thirteen years ago, Len and Toby and I departed Ticonderoga NY early one morning, crossed Lake Champlain on a little ferry run by a guy who flew a Jamaican flag. Len wanted a new tire, and I knew that the only place he was likely to find the tire in the next hundred miles was in Middlebury. What self-respecting college town wouldn’t have a bike shop? They didn’t have the tire Len wanted but the bike shop owner had lots of advice about how to get to our destination, White River Junction, on the other side of the state. He thought it was foolish to take the route we planned (too much traffic and road construction). We took his advice and rode about 20 miles south to Brandon. Then turned east to go over Brandon Gap. At first the road was flat; then the grade increased to about 6%; then 8%, then 12%; and finally, to somewhere between 16 and 18%. Len and I made it to the top but Toby, who hadn’t had the benefit of riding over 3500 miles at that point (he joined us about 1200 miles before in Midland Michigan) threw in the towel a few hundred yards from the top and walked the rest of the way. As he was pushing his bike up the hill, a dump truck passed him barely going faster than he was going.  “Bring out your dead,” was the cry of the day (picture the Flying Circus).

Returning to today’s ride, after taking photos memorializing our return to Brandon, if not the eponymous Gap, we turned north on Route 7 to make the 20-mile run into Middlebury. I remembered the trip from Middlebury to Brandon being fairly easy. Well, today it seemed like going north was 90% uphill compounded by a significant headwind.

We see lots of American flags at half-mast.  Len asks the purpose in the convenience store.  Answer: “I haven’t noticed it maybe for the Queen?”  But…”didn’t we fight a war with them that started in this part of the country?” asks Len.  Answer: “The next thing you know this country will be flying flags at half-mast for the F…ing Taliban.”  Len thinks, “I better not tell this guy that Nancy Pelosi is my Representative. ”  

We again arrived before our room was ready so we rode into central Middlebury to have lunch and pay a memorial visit to the bike shop where Len couldn’t find the tire he wanted. He wasn’t looking for a tire this time, just a handlebar plug. But it wasn’t the same bike shop. The place we’d been to previously was closed and the bakery we were looking for didn’t seem to be around anymore either. In fact, central Middlebury seemed a little more shabby that I remembered it. But it probably hasn’t changed much in reality.

We had a decent lunch at the Otter Creek Bakery and Pub and rode back to the hotel to find our room ready to occupy. Dinner was a mediocre affair at a place called Rosie’s, a half mile walk from the hotel. The exterior looked good and the desk clerk at the hotel said it was good. Maybe she’d had a different entre.

Tomorrow begins the real ride. Thus far, except the first day, we’ve been cruising along at about 40 to 50 miles a day. Beginning tomorrow and for the next 3 days we up our game to about 65 miles per day with a lot more climbing. We’ll see how these two old bodies handle the new workload. Good thing we’re still in Vermont where chocolate milk is readily available.