Postcards from the Mothership

We’d originally been offered** a three-night stay at Smugglers’ Notch Resort, but due to the end of the season, the beginning of the school year and Beloved’s and my work schedules, we could only take advantage of two nights. It’s too bad, because there was a list of things as long as my arm that I would have liked to do, and even a few things that we’d planned to do that we simply didn’t get around to doing. No massage (sigh). No nature walk or hike, which might not have been a bad thing in the long run, because Simon was still fried the morning after our canoe trip and wanted to be carried everywhere. They had other way-cool stuff that I would have loved to try on site (like geo-caching!) and other stuff nearby (like outlet malls!)

Our last day, we had a breakfast buffet at the Morse Mountain Grill before heading off to fulfill Tristan’s dearest wish of a round of putt-putt (so easy to please, that one) along side a babbling brook in the shade of a gorgeous late-summer morning.

It would have been idyllic, if it weren’t for a potty-training accident that neccesitated an unplanned trek back across the resort for clean pants and a bloody knee requiring excessive kisses and a band-aid. Both injustices were redeemed by a visit to the three-tier pool and waterfall at Notchville Park.

Did I mention that in all the pools we visited, the water temperature must have averaged 90F or more? The air was on the cool side, and I actually kept standing up to get a bit of a breeze; the water was so warm it was making me sweat! Not that I minded. I hate cold water!

After a leisurely couple of hours in the pools, we reluctantly dried off and stopped for a late lunch on our way out of the resort. The drive home was far more pleasant than the drive up, and shorter by almost a full hour. That might have been due to the fact that Simon slept almost the entire trip, or the fact that we chose a smarter route through Montreal. Our DVD player died yet again (that’s three times in three trips!) and so Tristan was left largely to stare out the window for the three hours on the Canadian side of the border crossing, but even he seemed relaxed and content.

(Although I’ve already posted a lot of them, you can see the full set of our weekend pictures on my Flickr account, by the way.)

It’s hard not to be effusive about a free vacation. And I really don’t want you to think that the glowing review I’ve been giving Smuggs is entirely about the free bit – even though you do know I love me some free stuff. I don’t want to come across as a corporate shill, nor to have you to think I’m raving simply because the trip was free; in all honesty, we loved the place and were surprised by how affordable a vacation a “resort” can offer.

Beloved and I were doing the math in the car on the way home, already planning our next visit to Smuggs. You can stay for five nights a two-bedroom condo for $1750US (early summer rate), and that includes the day camp for the kids, access to the pools, and a bunch of free activities. With the vast amount of room in the 2bd condo, we could invite my folks, or even my brother and his family along to share the condo with us. Not only does that mean splitting the costs, but the whole time we were there, we were saying how much fun it would be to share the adventure with someone.

We must have done a good job evangelizing the place to Granny and Papa Lou when we got home, too. I could see my Dad’s wheels spinning at the thought of his own Segway tour, and he opined that since we’ve pretty much outgrown our free camping weekend cottage at the KOA in the Thousand Islands, this might be just the place for our usual multi-generational extended family trip next summer. Cuz if you’re going to travel with two young boys and a newborn, it’s good to have back-up!

Thanks again to Karen and Barbara at Smuggs for making this trip (and extended narrative) possible. We hope to see you again next summer!

(Disclosure: I was offered a complimentary visit to Smugglers’ Notch Resort after Smugg’s PR folks read my Ottawa to Bar Harbor posts earlier this summer. Our condo and all activities were complimentary but in no way conditional on a favourable review.)

I was a little bit anxious leaving Simon in the day camp all day while Beloved and I enjoyed a day at Smuggs on our own. Partly, I was nervous about leaving him on his own, when he’s used to doing everything side-by-side with Tristan. Moreso, though, I was worried about his newly acquired potty training habit.

Of course, I needn’t have worried. In fact, when Beloved and I puttered through the Village Green on our Segway tour, we spied him and his daycamp compatriots on a little expedition of some sort. He seemed to be perfectly content, and I was greatly reassured.

I won’t belabour our dinner experience, except to say that the deli at which we intended to eat was closed and so we did the pizza and pasta thing for a second night in a row. Our window of time shrank through various bathroom shenanigans (I swear, between being 18 weeks pregnant and the two boys, I don’t think there was a bathroom in the place that we didn’t grace with our presence several times over three days) we had just enough time to head back into Jeffersonville to hook up with our scheduled evening activity, the evening wildlife watch canoe trip.

In retrospect, this was an error in judgement on my part. In my enthusiasm to enjoy our short vacation to the fullest, I may have overestimated the boys’ (ahem, everybody’s) capabilities for a busy day. After being on the go all day at day camp, Simon was nearly falling asleep over his pizza at dinner. Tristan had a bona fide meltdown on the way to the car, insisting tearily that he didn’t want to go anywhere else, he just wanted to go home.

As I suspected he might, he did calm down once we got in the car, and was raring to go by the time we parked the car outside the canoe outfitters. Our hosts and guides for the evening trip were two young fellows with the most distinct Southie accents I’ve ever encountered outside the movies, sounding for all the world like Will and Chuckie from Good Will Hunting. We truly had no idea what to think as rather than simply loading into a canoe on site, we were herded into a shuttle van pulling several canoes and driven waaaaaaaaay upstream. I’m not sure how far we went exactly, but I’m sure it must have been somewhere near the Canadian border for all the time it took us to paddle back (thankfully!) downstream to our waiting cars.

The 300 mile voyageur imitation wasn’t even the worst of it. As we pushed off from shore, the guides suggested we remain quiet in our canoes lest we frighten away the wildlife and ruin the trip for the rest of our fellow canoers. Seriously. I have a three- and five-year old in my canoe who have both already vastly exceeded their daily alotment of patience and cooperation, and you want me to keep them quiet? I can’t keep them quiet on the best of days.

In the way that only three-year olds can do, Simon interpreted this instruction in his own unique way. For the entire TWO AND A HALF HOURS that we paddled relentlessly down that river, Simon did not stop talking once. He spoke, he babbled, he sang, he bellowed. I shushed him, he whispered for about eleven seconds, and went back to chattering in his usual “outside” voice. I kid you not, that child uttered more syllables in that one evening than he has cumulatively to date in his entire lifetime.

Aside from the constant stream-of-consciousness commentary, Simon was also reluctant to heed our constant exhortations to stop lurching over to the side of the canoe to peer over the edge. Tristan did better, sitting rather calmly and well-centred in the canoe bottom for most of the ride, but that left us perhaps less prepared for the few times he did shift or turn, bringing us precariously close to tipping on more than one occassion.

(On that note, you’ll note that photos are conspicuously absent from this post. Beloved opined, rather vocally, that the best place for the new digital SLR was safely hidden in the car and not, say, at the bottom of the Lamoille River in Vermont. Seeing as how we didn’t actually see *any* wildlife, aside from the bunny rabbit that Tristan was petting in the parking lot, we didn’t miss too many photo opportunities. There was one gorgeous old covered bridge that we passed under, and some ruggedly lovely spots… but none worth betting the seaworthiness of our canoe against our ability to remain upright and out of the water.)

Dusk was settling quickly into official nighttime by the time we approached the landing where we’d parked, and both boys were done like dinner. I had hardly finished exhaling my sigh of relief before the guides motioned us to paddle over to the side of the river 200 yards away from the endgame. They told us that we had one last “tricky spot” through which we’d have to manouever, a bit of white water (!) with rocks to the right (!) and a giant submerged tree stump (!) to the left. Had I had any energy left whatsoever, I might have laughed. They lectured us for a few minutes on exactly how to navigate this final injustice, including how to orient your body should you be tipped into the drink, and I figured for sure we were all going swimming. To the boys’ credit, they must have read something in either the whites of my eyes or my white-knuckled grip on my paddle. Regardless, they were nearly still – and blissfully silent – as we shot the rapids with nary a splash.

Final analysis? Our next vacation needs more Segway and less canoe. I’ll bet if the voyageurs had Segways, they would have forgone the canoes, too.

Coming up next: putt-putt, pools and a shameless plug.

(Disclosure: I was offered a complimentary visit to Smugglers’ Notch Resort after Smugg’s PR folks read my Ottawa to Bar Harbor posts earlier this summer. Our condo and all activities were complimentary but in no way conditional on a favourable review.)

Although I’d heard of Smugglers’ Notch and knew it was a ski resort in Vermont, I had no idea it was a year-round family-oriented resort. Even after reading the website and brochures, I was still surprised at how much the resort tries to be a truly “family” destination, with something for everybody.

Part of our vacation package** included day camp for the kids. It seemed a little strange to be sending them off to spend the day without us! I was a little worried, too, about sending each boy off with a separate, age-appropriate group as they’ve been together all summer long and I was worried especially Simon would balk about being left alone with strangers.

I needn’t have worried. Both boys went off to join their respective groups without a backward glance. Frankly, I think they might have been glad to get away from each other, and from us as well. Beloved and I, too, quickly adapted to our child-free status with a leisurely breakfast bagel at the Green Mountain Deli (yum!) before heading off to join our Segway class and tour.

Ahhh, the Segway. I *loved* the Segway! There were five of us in a little tour group, one other set of parents from New Jersey and a girl of maybe 17 or so. (You have to be 12 years and older to join the Segway tours.) We had a quick orientation session with Bruce, the owner and operator of the Segway tour at Smuggs, who also runs a program for the day camp specializing in video production. (Bruce is one cool guy!)

Although I’d heard of the Segways and seen them on TV, I’d never seen one in person. They’re way wicked cool, and more fun than I had even imagined! The Segway has an internal gyroscope that keeps you balanced on its two wheels, so when you first step on it, you can feel it shifting back and forth as it searches for and accomodates your centre of gravity. You go forward by leaning forward, and slow down and stop by leaning backwards. (You can read more about them on the official Segway website.) In the “first generation” Segways that we were using, you turn by twisting one handgrip, but the newer ones you lean to the direction you want to turn. They also have four different keys that allow you a progressively higher speed as you get more comfortable with the machine. After a just a couple of minutes’ practice, we were already on the second key, which allowed us to go a breezy 6 miles per hour, and we set off on our tour.

I kid you not, I took to that thing like a duck to water. Me, the ungraceful klutz with the bulging belly to offset my already precarious centre of gravity! (Fryman, stop laughing. It’s TRUE!) I was a natural on that Segway, zipping along happily at maximum speed at the head of the group while the others trailed behind, searching for their own personal comfort zone. At one point, cackling madly as I zipped down a trail, I turned back to throw a glowing grin over my shoulder at Beloved and had to laugh at his rather pinched facial expression, which clearly showed a markedly lower level of enthusiasm. (But as we moved along the tour, I could see him quickly acclimatizing to it.)

Bruce took us on a six mile loop (across more than 1200 feet of elevation changes!) around the outskirts and various communities of the resort. By the time we were on our final key, the Segway’s top speed was a peppy 12 miles per hour, which I figure converts to at least 90 km per hour or so, based on the wind in my face and my relative exhileration. Okay, so not quite that fast, but I was traveling at a darn good clip when I opened that puppy up on a nice straight stretch!

Bruce would stop us every now and then to allow everyone to catch up, and to chat with us about everything from the philosophy behind the Segways to the history of Smuggs and the mountains around us. (The stopping was as much fun as the going. Rather than just resting in place, you can rock the Segway gently back and forth, spin in place, or make happy little loops around your husband and his Segway.) Bruce did a nice job of tying the environmental message of a sustainable resource like the Segway with the environmentally protectionist philosophy of the resort. Frankly, he was just a personable and interesting guy to spend some time with, Segways or no.

By the time the tour wrapped up, Beloved and I were both on a wicked adrenaline rush. Late for our lunch date with Karen, part of Smuggs’ PR team, we chattered excitedly about maybe arranging for a second tour that afternoon, or ditching the kids the next day so we could rent a couple of Segways for an hour or two. It was that much fun.

I don’t know if everyone at Smuggs is as friendly and personable as are Karen and Bruce, but they sure make a great couple of ambassadors for the resort. Our lunch with Karen stretched on for a leisurely two hours as we chatted about Smuggs, blogging, family vacations and the world at large. She told us that as a ski resort, it’s been around for more than 50 years, but in recent years has really focused on both its summer and winter appeal as a destination for families. I was surprised to hear that Smuggs was around 2/3 capacity on the weekend we were there, because it had a wonderfully spacious and uncrowded feel to it, and the only place we ever waited in line was to check in or out.

After our lazy lunch with Karen, we hiked back up the mountain the short distance to our condo – just enough of a hike to wind us on our full bellies. We had enough time for a quick nap – ahh, what a life! – back at the condo before we had to pick up the boys from daycamp. I wish we’d had more time to enjoy the hiking and walks that Smuggs offers. We simply ran out of weekend before we got to do half the things we would have liked to try.

Coming up next: the canoe trip that seemed like a good idea at the time.

**Disclosure: I was offered a complimentary visit to Smugglers’ Notch Resort after Smugg’s PR folks read my Ottawa to Bar Harbor posts earlier this summer. Our condo and all activities were complimentary but in no way conditional on a favourable review.

We’re freshly back from our weekend getaway to Smugglers’ Notch Resort in Vermont.**

First of all, I’m thinking of ditching my career as a public servant and joining the professional Segway tour. What, they don’t have one? Seriously, this has been one of the best summers of my life, and the best 90 minutes of an amazing weekend during a fabulous summer may just have been those spent zipping around Smugglers’ Notch Resort on this Segway. Who knew – turns out I’m a natural! But more on that later…

We got off to a slow start. We were about an hour late leaving Ottawa, and had to turn back after 15 minutes when our first portable DVD player crapped out on us. (I think there was a short in the adapter.) So we turned around and went back to get our backup DVD player, which crapped out on us outside of Montreal, about 1/3 of the way into the trip. Then we chose Autoroute 20 instead of Autoroute 40 to get through Montreal, which I’m sure added another 45 minutes to our trip.

Despite the fact that I had ground my molars into a fine powder by the time we reached the Canada-US border, the rest of the trip was so gorgeous – through pastoral countryside, alongside winding streams through charming small towns and up into the Green Mountains – that I had once again achieved inner peace (or at least unclenched my jaws) by the time we arrived at Smuggs about five hours after we left.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the condo we stayed it superceded just about anything I could have possibly imagined. First of all, it was HUGE! We took one look around and almost called Granny and Papa Lou back in Ottawa to tell them to pack a bag and get down to Vermont to join us – there was more than enough room to share, and it was immaculately clean. The living room, bigger than ours at home, had a gas fireplace, a sectional sofa that pulled out into a double bed, and a dining room table that would comfortably seat eight people.

Lookit all the windows!

The second bedroom had two single beds AND a double bed. (I’m sprawled on the double as I take this photo.)

The master bedroom had a king size bed and its own ensuite with a whirlpool bath.

There were four(!) TVs placed strategically through the condo, including one perched on a shelf high above the whirlpool tub… perfect for a leisurely soak while watching COPS – or, erm, whatever else you might want to watch on a Saturday evening.

It was late in the afternoon by the time we finished wandering openmouthed around the condo, waiting for someone to leap out with a camera and say, “Surprise, we were just kidding you. You really think we’d give you all this for FREE**? Hah! Not friggin’ likely!” Nobody did, and so we set off to do a little bit of exploring of the resort itself.

Smuggs is sprawled over the base of three mountains: Madonna, Morse and Sterling. There are several ‘communities’ of condos, some owned outright, others owned and rented out through the resort. The condo we stayed in was in the Sycamore group in the West Hill community, and had its own pool and playground adjacent to the condos.

It didn’t take us long to find the Funmeister’s Clubhouse, a small arcade with video games, ping pong tables and the boys’ new favourite summer pastime, air hockey.

Smuggs has no less than eight pools and four waterslides! On that first afternoon, we tried the Mountainside Pool with its Little Smugglers’ Lagoon, a shallow pool (not quite waist-deep on the boys) with caves for exploring and spraying fountains.

Since the condo’s kitchen was better stocked with cookware and tools than my kitchen at home (including a glass-topped range, dishwasher, blender, toaster and – wait for it – en suite washer and dryer!) we could have easily just made dinner back at the condo. But, of course, we didn’t. Instead, we dined on pizza and pasta at Riga Bello’s, one of several restaurants at Smuggs. Given that it was cafeteria-style counter service at resort prices, it was a surprisingly good meal that the boys actually ate. Nothing like fresh air to stimulate the appetite!

So how do you end a day like this? With Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, of course.

Can you believe I was a Ben and Jerry’s virgin before this trip? After sampling Simon’s chunky monkey (it’s as if they named it after him!), Beloved’s chocolate chip cookie dough, and his own chocolate, Tristan voted my berry sorbet to be the best flavour of the lot.

And all that was just the first six hours!!

Coming next: Segway tours, day camps, and the world’s longest canoe trip…

**Disclosure: I was offered a complimentary visit to Smugglers’ Notch Resort after Smugg’s PR folks read my Ottawa to Bar Harbor posts earlier this summer. Our condo and all activities were complimentary but in no way conditional on a favourable review.