For the last few years, I have had to cross the West Woodstock Bridge nearly every day. You will not likely find tourists standing in front of it to pose for a photo. I am glad for that because it would take away from the sense of enjoyment I find in coming around the bend in the road, to see if there is another vehicle waiting to cross on the other side. You see, the bridge only allows for one vehicle to cross at a time. Tourists would prove to be a distraction at that crossing. I have found that the iron bridge makes me stop and notice my surroundings. I hear the rumble of the steel beneath my wheels and I notice how high or low the river is according to how much rain we have had. Before turning either way on College Hill Road, I usually get a final wave of thanks to a neighbor for letting me pass once more over the Ottauquechee River. For the few years I have been living here, I have begun to think of this bridge as a neighborhood structure, not another wooden box for a selfie opportunity. In an odd way, it has become a part of my Woodstock identity.Read More
A little to the east and south of Vermont’s geographical center in the foothills of the Green Mountains lies the Prosper Valley. It is here that the Appalachian Trail now passes and four towns meet: Bridgewater, Pomfret, Barnard and Woodstock. And it is here that the Eastern ski industry began.
The first mechanized ski tow in the United States was built here, an event which ushered in the modern era of American downhill skiing.Read More