A Jaunt on Spear Street

I tried to get connected with a friend for ride, but alas it didn't work out. I went on my own. I stopped at this sycamore tree. I'd driven by this white specimen for many years until someone identified it for me. They are not common in this climate.

Further on I took this half mile short cut. It's a pleasant diversion from pavement, made all the more special because of it's historical significance. This is the Ti-Haul Trail.

Photo credit: Harold Mock

A steamer, made in Shelburne in 1906, plied Lake Champlain's waters as a day ship until 1953.

My mother-in-law remembers this grand event.

In 1955 the massive boat was hauled overland 2 miles to where it's docked on land as part of the Shelburne Museum.

A visit to walk the restored steamer's decks, bunk rooms, grand staircase, and a peek at the engine and elegant dining room is a must for all Vermonters. On board, I never tire of watching the black and white footage of the painstaking process of towing this majestic boat. I didn't take in the museum on this trip. I played that reel through my mind as I pedaled it's overland route. I am thankful that the wonder of that ground voyage is now appropriately preserved as the Ti-Haul.

The other end of the Ti-Haul near Shelburne Bay.

I ate a snack at Shelburne Bay. Last year at this time the lake level was record high, closing this road. A tree is still toppled in the water. The white rocks in the foreground were added as buffer and ballast before road reconstruction.

On my way home I pedaled on a new path along Webster Road. It's wide enough for a car! But oddly it ends right before I climb a steep hill and it's an awkward crossing to the right side of the road before shifting into granny gear. I imagine that as a neighborhood connection it works pretty well. But like many routes in the area, linking one bike lane to another leaves unpleasant gaps with often dangerous merges with vehicular traffic. It's a common complaint from bicyclists.

At the top I take a breather to soak up sunshine and photograph the barn. Nothing like newly painted barn-red with white trim on multi-paned windows. I don't believe this is a working farm anymore. It lacks the animal aroma—if you know what I mean. I peek inside the open door but can't spy anything that gives away it's purpose.

Blooming forsythia adds a nice splash. In fact, this wonderful foliage colors much of my ride. I head home, missing my friend, but glad to have made it out anyway.