August 29, 2026

Our third day of bikepacking took us from Stowe to Montpelier -- not far, as the crow flies, but with many lovely dirt road diversions and several good eateries along the way.

Our penultimate day began with a lazy start, lounging around in our luxurious (for us) indoor sleeping space. But we eventually dragged ourselves out of bed, checked out, and headed down the Stowe Bike Path to The Bagel, a perfectly normal place for a perfectly average breakfast. The everything bagels were a tad on the dry side, but our shared roasted red pepper bagel was actually quite good.

Once fueled, we headed downtown and immediately started a massive, muggy hill climb South towards Waterbury. But at least the views were incredible.

Eventually, the climb leveled off and the road turned back to much sought-after dirt. We meandered our way along a surprisingly well-cared-for seasonal road (almost missing our turn while distracted by a cute dog), winding past 5, 10, and 20 million dollar mansions and horse farms with gobsmacking-good views of Mount Mansfield and the Greens.

We enjoyed a noontime slightly-too-instagrammy brunch at The Bidwell (my latte: passable; Meg's meatball sandwich: excellent bread, excellent meatballs, gravy needed more simmering; my 'roasted root vegetables': actually just a weak breakfast skillet), then walked a block over to the Prohibition Pig to watch the passing storms from the safety of their front porch.

The storms refused to dole out any moisture, the sun returned, and we headed over to freak folk bier to enjoy some very well-reviewed beverages.

Freak folk turned out fantastic. Cute space, excellent beer (the hazies were all great, but my personal favorite was the grisette, with a perfect balance of funk and hops, something I never trust from lesser brewers). And the funniest part? The person working the bar was none other than thrashley, who we've seen multiple times at Lawson's Finest Liquids and even got a class IV road recommendation (from Waitsfield to Waterbury) from the last time we saw her. We thanked her for her road recommendation, and she appreciated finally seeing our touring bikes, since she's only ever seen our Moonshiners before (her partner has a Hardtack, making them some of very few people in the world who might actually recognize our Moonshiners).

We relaxed outside at freak folk for a little bit longer than necessary, but it was worth it to try more of the draft list. After selecting a single bottle for the road (one of the big advantages of a touring-style pannier setup, instead of cramped bikepacking bags), we headed down the Cross Vermont Trail (XVT) towards our final destination: Montpelier, land of burritos, beers, and our last campsite.

The XVT took us along the Winooski River through a mix of rolling flood plain dirt roads, some fortunately-brief paved road connectors, and one incredibly scenic abandoned bridge over a rocky chasm of a swimming hole. Being careful to remain in the public easement around the bridge (and not venturing past the many, many POSTED signs), we took the opportunity for a dip in the calm, surprisingly deep, rocky pools. As a random man with a dog said to us: "The rivers are for everyone." Hell yeah, brother.

We rolled into Montpelier on the very nicely maintained bike path (that we almost missed since we were already on a dirt road), and our hungry bellies led us directly to The Mad Taco. I inhaled my Al Pastor burrito in record time, then pivoted to finishing up the remainder of Meg's Colorado Pork (with molé!). We seriously considered stopping in at Charlie O's "dive bar for nice people", but instead opted for maple/lemon basil pink peppercorn twist creemees. Regardless, congratulations to Charlie O's for making it 50 years. It's hard to believe we turned down two karaoke opportunities this trip!

Oh, and I almost forgot the hippie burnout who excitedly gave me a thumbs-up through the Mad Taco window as I finished up my beer. Was he excited about our bikes (I had my helmet on the counter beside me)? My increasingly John Lennon/Denver appearance, thanks to my round glasses? My beer? When it comes to Montpelier Street Rats, you never know.

Full from our burritos and creemees, we soon ascended just two miles of 20% grade, passing by a very busy Friday night Three Penny Taproom that made us thankful we had other options in town for dinner (though I am still craving their grilled tuna sandwich).

As the ice cream and burrito coma set in, we closed in on our campsite, located right where the paved road transitions to dirt, pausing only to snap some pictures of the incredible hilltop views.

Our host, a former plant nursery owner with a gorgeous garden, showed us to our accommodations out back, hooked us up with some firewood, and left us to our own devices as we assembled our tent and fire through the haze of our food comas.

We barely made it through the first few logs of the fire, collapsing into our tent just after 9, for as sound a sleep as we got the entire trip.