Here I sit, with it 80+ degrees out dreaming about Vermont in the fall. Actually I’m thinking Vermont is more fitting of the term autumn. Maple syrup and leaves painted in every hue of gold and red, yep, that’s what I’m wishing for. I hear they have great skiing too, unlike the rest of the east coast. Though I suppose great skiing is relative to the area, so I’m guessing that the best Vermont ski run is to Crystal Mt. in Washington as Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup is to Vermont maple syrup. Ya get me?
I’m guessing our chances of finding a ski run up to the husband’s standards are nil. What they lack in skiing they can make up in four whole distinct seasons. I’ve experience the summer, next up is the colorful autumn I hear so much about. Then a winter with guaranteed snow! That’s a new one for me.
So what I’m hoping to do is do a little foliage tour. You think that sounds boring, but really it translates to hiking and maple tree tapping. Or whatever it’s called when they tap maple trees for syrup. I assume there’s someone in New England who shows how it’s done. It may sound quaint, but the Laura Ingalls in me totally wants to do it. Along with churning butter with the Amish, but let’s not let my wild side out too much at once.
On the way to Vermont, I’m hoping to swing by the Adirondacks or the Poconos. I’m guessing that’s where the wealthy of the East spend their winters, after their summers in the Hamptons. They be fancy on this coast.
As beautiful and scenic as the PNW is, I’m discovering that the East has a lot of it’s own postcard-worthy destinations. Not really a shock, I mean, they do have the Shenandoah River. It’s the epitome of American beauty, right?