Leaving Coventry Resort:
Morning: We’re packing out, filling the little civic. Before people get up and around, we manage to grab a few pics to document our stay. It is peaceful in the morning light. No ripples and no voices, but for the call of that loon.
We walk the running track for a section and pass a nude man up on his roof. I have to stop and ask about the attachment of the built up roofing that most of the trailers have here. From up above he explains detail. He’s most friendly, for a guy with a busy chore.
We bid an affectionate goodbye to our hostess at check out. She runs this place with heart and a constant smile.
There had been a change of plans. We had heard about a place called Black Island out in Lake Champlain. There, supposedly, we can camp and wander nude with no repercussions from anybody. A couple of days like Robinson Caruso got dashed. When I looked into a visit, it would take extra travelers to justify splitting the exorbitant expense of the boat rides out and back. Topping that, the weather is getting iffy.
Alternatives abound in Vermont? There is a hike recommended not far down the country road.
Signs keep telling us that we have it correct.
Out in the middle of a farm field, there is a kiosk at the parking lot and a large grey pickup truck, with all of the typical signs of a trailhead. Still we’re feeling just a bit disorientated. We’re looking around, surrounded by a farmer’s field. Perhaps he rents the land, perhaps he grants an easement for access. All that we know is a strip of grass that is more worn and discolored than …