So we began heading west on our last RV jaunt from Coast to Coast — leaving Rhode Island with the ultimate destination of California. But rather than cut straight across the continent on I-40 as we had done innumerable times before, we opted for a more scenic northern loop, taking us through Vermont.

Vermont, of course, is most scenic during the fall, when it offers a wide spectrum of yellows and reds to feast the eyes on. But the spectrum of greens during springtime is certainly not a bad second place. They don’t call it The Green Mountain State for nothing.

We decided to pause for a spell in Brattleboro, which has been declared to be one of the best small towns (population about 12,000) in America. It’s home to one of the state’s most picturesque covered bridges, the Creamery Bridge, built in 1879.

There are 104 covered bridges in Vermont, quite a tally for such a small state — indeed, it’s more per square mile than any other state. But that’s nothing; at one time there were 700 of them! They were popular in the Nineteenth Century, as the roof protected the bridge from the elements and enabled it to endure longer. Even so, many of them have met their demise; some have been rebuilt in their original image. But the stately old Creamery Bridge still abideth.

In addition to their primary function of providing passage over rivers for horse-drawn carriages, these sheltered spans were used as scenic picnic and rendezvous spots. They were sometimes referred to as “kissing bridges”, because couples passing over them in their buggies (or on foot) were for the time being shielded from prying eyes. And perhaps they also might have provided a temporary dwelling place for the homeless. This one did for one of them in this century, judging by the evidence we saw.

Brattleboro is also home to the New England Center for Circus Arts (NECCA), a school for anyone who wants to become a circus performer, or merely have an excuse to behave like one. We’ve taken a few classes in circus arts ourselves (in Reno, Boulder, and Little Rock), and while we may not be Ringling material, we enjoy the challenge of learning to (more or less) do the seemingly impossible. Maybe one of these days we’ll get back up here and attend a session or two, you never can tell.

As you might expect, Vermont is home to some excellent hiking trails, so of course we had to find one and explore it. Trudging through the woods, we came upon a fellow who was obviously a heavy-duty hiker, with all the hardcore gear. He even had his own special trail name: Old Spice. (We hadn’t even been aware that hikers use handles, but apparently that’s a regular thing.)

He was just getting back to the trail after taking a nasty tumble earlier in the day. And scraping himself rather badly. He’d gone somewhere to get cleaned up and, evidently, change clothes, and then he returned to battle the beast again. We asked him if he had any first aid materials with him, and he said he didn’t, but he’d be okay. The shame was that we had a little first aid kit back in the RV that we would have been happy to give him (since we were already on a giveaway binge to lighten our load in order to get rid of the RV), but we were not very close to the parking lot at that point.

Once we got back inside the RV making plans to move on there was a knock at the door. Now over our many years of RV living, we’ve learned that knocks on the door are usually not a good thing; it’s often a cop, a security guard, or someone else to deliver the message that “you can’t park a camper here”. (Camper is the generic — and inaccurate — label that many lay people apply to any kind of RV.)

This time, however, the encounter was quite pleasant. It was another hardcore hiker, who asked us if we had any drinking water we could spare, as his bottle had run dry. And we did indeed; we always carried several gallon jugs filled with filtered water from a machine. As he quenched his thirst, we struck up a conversation with him, and mentioned that we’d run into a hiker on the trail called Old Spice.

“Oh yeah”, he said, “I know Old Spice. He’s a paramedic.”

Which made it seem a bit odd that he hadn’t been carrying a first aid kit. But hey, who are we to judge? Anyway, this hiker said that he actually would be meeting up with Old Spice later at a trailside shelter; so we gave him the first aid kit to pass along. It was quite compact enough that a hiker could tote it without it being cumbersome.

Two chance encounters and two good deeds in one day. It made us quite happy; there are few things that feel better than helping someone in need. Giving a few bandages or a few ounces of water are rather tiny gestures in the grand scheme of things. But we never know what ripples might develop from the most seemingly insignificant of little splashes.

5/30/2023