When the pavement ends, a new kind of fun begins. Photos by the author.

Andy follows me across the border from Massachusetts into Vermont. We?re riding along a dirt road that cuts through dark, deep woods overlooking the Green River. As my Kawasaki hums below, the final stanza of Robert Frost?s poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” repeats in my head:

These woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep

It?s a warm August morning, not a snowy evening, but Frost?s silken words apply. For two days we are riding through the very landscapes that inspired Frost?s extraordinary descriptions of ordinary things. As the crow flies, Vermont is about 160 miles long north to south, but we?ll cover 321 miles before reaching our destination of North Troy. We?re on the Vermont Puppy Dog Route, which links unpaved roads from the southern border we just crossed all the way to the northern border with Québec, Canada. 
Your humble scribe stops to take in an early morning view near Stowe, Vermont.

This isn?t off-roading. It?s dirt-roading. Especially in Vermont, roads like these came about because someone had a destination in mind. They follow rivers along a path of least resistance, or hug the edges of pastures and fields, or take the shorter, steeper route up and over the mountains. They have names like Church Hill Road, Rabbit Hollow Road and Elmore Mountain Road. We?re not bl...