Short Walks and Long Rides Through the Litchfield Area

My dog Molly McGee is a spry 15 years young and gets walked twice daily. Lately, she’s gotten cheated out of that second evening walk because I’m off riding my bike and come home too spent to go for a half-hour jaunt.

Today was one of those days. We just got back from a 56-mile arduous ride through the rolling hills of Middlebury and Litchfield County. Don’t get me wrong, the roads up there are great for cycling, no killer hills and we even stopped for a civilized lunch in Litchfield. But the ride was longer than planned, hotter than expected, and we were low on fluids and short on cash.  

We jokingly call these too long, too hot rides “death marches.” A 50+ mile ride seems a “march” because your brain had prepared for 35 or 40. Yeah, yeah I know some of you hammerheads are rolling your eyes and thinking how you do that mileage after work each night. Well this summer we’ve churned out a series of short, fast rides that fit into two busy work schedules.  In the past, weekend rides were always longer 30 to 50 miles, but this season our longest ride was on Memorial Day at a mere 40 miles.  So today’s ride bordered on epic, but the last 10 miles were tough and though it had been cloudy all day the sun came out at about mile 40, making for a super-hot trek back to the car. 

Our route (we didn’t pack a map, relying on Tom’s memory) took us from Route 188 in Middlebury through Watertown, up to Morris and Bethlehem, landing in Litchfield for lunch and back through Morris (by Bantam Lake) and Woodbury to Middlebury.

Aside from the fact that I’m exhausted, this ride is worth repeating; it is long but really not brutal if you are mentally prepared and bring a credit card to pay for lunch — saving cash for liquid refills. The country roads in this area are near perfect for cycling -- smooth, shady, with low traffic (except the center of Litchfield) and scenic without any monster climbs.

In Watertown, we stopped at my sister-in-law’s house for a quick "hi" and then continuned on Guernseytown Road -- long and flat, with few cars and nice homes.  The entire ride was pretty mild — mostly flat to rolling.  The first significant hill and distant view we encountered was in Morris.

Farm stands were plentiful in this rural town and native corn was the big offering —butter and sugar or silver queen. (If only I could have fit some ears in my pockets—I’d be rolling them in butter right now.)

I knew we reached Litchfield upon spotting the White Memorial Conservation Center sign and trail markers.  We passed over several bridges on roads that cut through this 4,000-acre foundation, which consists of fields, dirt trails, woodlands and water.  The area was busy with kayakers and hikers.   

Finally, we rolled into Litchfield’s town center which was buzzing with traffic and tourists on motorcycles and in Porsche convertibles.  There was a craft fair that looked interesting, but with 25 miles under our tires we were hungry and grabbed an outside table at West Street Grill.

Normally, we get something to go but there were no delis in Litchfield.  So we braved sideways glances at our spandex shorts and bright jerseys and had a tasty lunch including an organic salad, French fries and their specialty parmesan aioli peasant bread all warm, crusty and melted cheese. YUMMY! I guzzled several Arnold Palmers (iced tea and lemonade) while Tom ate most of the fries.

Afterward we hit the pavement pedaling slowly at first — didn’t want to throw-up any of those locally grown greens -- back to Middlebury by way of Woodbury.  The return route was mostly rolling and pleasant, but while weaving our way toward Lake Quassapaug the sun came out and we took a wrong turn.

Luckily, we rode into another cyclist, Bill of Middlebury, who graciously offered to guide us home on some more wonderful rolling quiet back roads. His route was rural and pretty but a bit longer than the direct, busier route we had planned.  Nevertheless, we enjoyed traveling new roads, and it was terrific meeting him and hearing about other rides in that general area.

I’m sorry that I didn’t get his full name. Bill, I hope you read this and comment -- we’d love to meet up with you again to try some other routes!

At this point in the ride my legs were spent, I was out of water and my face was a red ball of fire. But I chatted with Bill, discovering that he  had recently bought his bike -- a Giant with blue tires -- in February after having been a mountain biker for 20 years.  But the ride finally ended and we said our good-byes and thankfully coasted downhill to our car.

A swim at Sandy Beach had been on the day’s itinerary, but it was late and Molly was home waiting. She would be hungry for company and dinner, but alas would get no walk tonight!