Today's Vermont: Summer 2020

When does a Vermont summer begin?

For some, Memorial Day Weekend marks the official start of summer in Vermont. Others celebrate the seasonal transition at the solstice, towards the end of June. And there are always a few wisecrackers who insist that a Vermont summer only amounts to a few weeks of poor sledding in July. 

I tend to measure Vermont summers as the weeks between the emergence of lilac buds and the full flower of goldenrod. Even as climate change throws off the rhythms of seasonal progression and growth, I find reassurance in the persistence of flowers that always manage to bloom.

Summer 2020 might be business as usual from the perspective of lilacs and goldenrod, but we humans have arrived together at a moment of rapid and frightening change.

Six generations after brave Vermonters turned the tide at the Battle of Gettysburg, the emblem of the Confederate Flag is appearing with disturbing regularity in the Green Mountains. Once more, there is an urgent need for Vermonters who believe in freedom and unity to take a stand against the forces of white supremacy, and unequivocally declare that Black Lives Matter. 

National institutions are falling under the wheel of facism. The coronavirus pandemic has disrupted traditions and upended daily routines. Thousands of Vermonters are hungry, and thousands more have lost their jobs. In the evenings, when I weed garden beds in the Northeast Kingdom, I hear the crack of semi-automatic rifles; in Chittenden County I shudder beneath the roar of F-35s. 

Meanwhile, just as the lilacs in my dooryard began to bloom, the temperature on the rocky summit of Mt. Mansfield spiked to the highest mark in recorded history: 85 degrees. 

That’ll make you sweat. 

There’s plenty of competition these days, but climate change remains the defining crisis of our time. Unlike the coronavirus pandemic, which will surely recede into history within a year or two, the destabilizing effects of burning fossil fuels will wreak havoc in Vermont and elsewhere for countless generations. 

Even the rise of facism in the United States is of a piece with the accelerating climate crisis. The fossil fuel industry and the federal government are morphing into a single entity, a racist petro-state that enacts performative displays of violence on black and brown bodies.

So here we are in Vermont, a resilient place in a broken world. We have a temperate climate, leaders who embody a longstanding tradition of public service, a proven capacity for capable crisis management, and the best cheese and beer this side of Switzerland. 

The thing about climate change, though, is that it’s not just a single crisis that can be managed from day to day, but rather the root cause of a series of cascading disasters, one crisis after another, piling up until we can no longer cope. 

Vermont may be well-positioned to avoid the most immediate and most catastrophic impacts of climate change, but we must prepare in earnest, and in haste. Happily, climate action doesn’t require sacrifice or austerity. In fact, as I can’t say often enough, breaking our addiction to fossil fuels yields innumerable lifestyle and financial benefits.

For example, in my work as a Solar Home Advisor with SunCommon, I’ve learned that going solar is not only an effective way to reduce reliance on fossil fuels, it’s also a money-saving strategy that pays extraordinary financial dividends for Vermont households over time. Likewise, when I ride my electric bike instead of driving a car, the slower pace enables me to stop and chat more with neighbors, note the hidden roadside pools where wild brook trout live, and indulge in moderate exercise that keeps my mind clear and my lungs strong. 

In a silver lining to the economic devastation wrought by the pandemic, bike shop business if booming.

And let’s not underestimate the better angels of our nature. 

Thus far, Vermont’s collective response to the pandemic has been nothing short of exemplary.  We’re not out of the woods yet, but we can be thankful to live in a place that’s relatively well equipped to deal with challenges that require generosity and fortitude. 

No wonder people want to move here. Vermont’s real estate market is booming, as buyers from out of state take stock of their surroundings and seek refuge to the north. As usual, when advising friends who are looking for real estate in Vermont, I emphasize opportunities in places that are off the tourist radar. 

Instead of Stowe, consider Stannard. Instead of Manchester, try Middletown Springs. Sure, Woodstock is nice, but have you seen what $150,000 buys in Springfield, or St. Johnsbury?

For extra contrarian points, look for property without access to broadband or cell service. You’ll likely find great value, and though lack of connectivity might be frustrating at times, people got by just fine before WiFi came along. 

Opportunities for travel in Vermont are slowly opening up again, and thank goodness for that. Although visitors from out of state are still obliged to quarantine for 14 days, it’s now possible to book lodging, eat (outside) at restaurants, and explore the highways, byways, and sideways of the Green Mountains. I’m continually amazed and grateful for the breadth of exploration that’s possible in Vermont. Even after decades of living here it’s never hard to find someplace new to explore. 

The other day I was pedaling my electric bike up a veritable mountain for my first visit to Coles Pond in Walden, trying to keep up with Ben Hewitt (who left me in the dust even without the benefit of a motor). Pausing to take in the view overlooking Caspian Lake and the Lowell Mountains, I reflected that travel, even when conducted close to home, can shift perspectives, and nourish a sense of possibility. The long days of summer are an ideal time to set out on a journey in Vermont. Take time to travel slowly. Hold space for serendipity. Celebrate the freedom you have to move through the world. 

The indispensable thing about travel is that it stimulates our sense of wonder and openness to the world, while reminding us of our ability to choose a different path. 

Bikepacking is one wonderful way to travel in Vermont with minimal expense. Just strap sleeping gear to your rack and camp wherever you’re tuckered out at the end of the day. Floating down a Vermont river on a hot summer day fosters a similar sense of liberation. Body and mind are refreshed in the process of adjusting to a new medium, processing observations, and gaining a new perspective by going with the flow. 

So go. Jump in. 

Pick a Vermont town where you’ve never been before. Follow a brook until it becomes a river. Make your way along back roads, spotting For Sale By Owner signs, and indulging in the fantasy of what a life spent there might be. 

 Vermont is a particularly good place to set to the slow and thoughtful task of building a better world.

Big thanks to Breezy Hill Marketing for sponsoring this column and helping us spread the word of Today’s Vermont. Read more about this friend of State14.