A Connecticut Road Trip | Route 169

ROAD SIGNS, ROUTE 169

If you, like me, occasionally open the Twitter app and scroll a bit before becoming despondent at the state of the world and quickly opening Instagram to stare at photos of kittens instead, you may have become dimly aware of a recent WalletHub article titled 2015's Best and Worst States for Summer Road Trips.

The piece, which enjoyed a flurry of  re-tweets and was cited in a bunch of local news reports, ranks US states from 1 to 50 for their supposed road-trip-ability. It is hilarious, as you might expect from travel advice dispensed by a personal finance writer. But the part that particularly amused me was the (entirely expected and entirely inaccurate) assertion that of all the 50 states, Connecticut is the worst for exploring by car.

To refute that silly claim (not that it needs to be refuted), I thought I'd write a little post about one of my favorite Connecticut drives, Route 169. This National Scenic Byway is only 32 miles long, but it winds through some of the prettiest of the state's countryside - an area the Federal Highway Administration calls "one of the last unspoiled areas in the northeastern United States."

As you travel from Lisbon to Woodstock, you will see: centuries-old stone walls crossing green fields that rise and dip like waves; Colonial-era houses and red barns; time-worn headstones in historic cemeteries; horses grazing behind wooden fences; agricultural fairgrounds; antique stores filled with tempting odds and ends; farms and farm stands offering fresh eggs, honey, vegetables, fruit, flowers, and maple syrup; small towns barely changed from when they were settled in the 17th century, except for the addition of cute coffee shops and highly acclaimed restaurants; local museums, historical societies, and carefully preserved buildings; and, of course, that two-lane road, stretching out ahead of you like an invitation.

You can see much more than that, of course; it only depends on how much time you have. Plus, there's no rule that says you have to stay on 169. Turn off on any of the other numbered routes you encounter, and you'll find even more sights to make you LOL at the idea that anyone thinks Connecticut is not road-trip worthy.

AMERICANA, ROUTE 169

SCRANTON'S SHOPS, WOODSTOCK

TYPICAL QUIET CORNER VIEW, POMFRET

CEMETERY, LISBON

ROAD SIGN, CANTERBURY

SILO, POMFRET

OLD GAS STATION, BROOKLYN

LAPSLEY ORCHARDS, POMFRET

ANTIQUE STORE, BROOKLYN

ROADSIDE FLOWERS, POMFRET

COW, WOODSTOCK (THERE ARE REAL COWS TO BE SEEN TOO)

GRANGE HALL, WOODSTOCK

ROAD SIGN, WOODSTOCK

OLD POST OFFICE, WOODSTOCK

If you want more about Route 169, here are some additional resources:

A map of the route from byways.org.

A partial list of attractions from Mystic Country.

An itinerary (fall foliage themed) from ctvisit.com. 

A recommendation from Yankee Magazine.

Some history from kurumi.com. 

And here are some earlier Size of Connecticut posts about just a fraction of what you can see and do along the way:

Historic Synagogue, Lisbon.

Prudence Crandall Museum, Canterbury.

Town Center, Brooklyn.

Putnam Elms and Old Trinity Church, Brooklyn.

Pomfret Station, Pomfret.

Abington Social Library, Pomfret.

Three historic libraries, Woodstock.

Roseland Cottage, Woodstock.

Mrs. Bridge's Pantry, Woodstock.

One-room schoolhouse, Woodstock.

Woodstock Fair, Woodstock.

If you want to add something else on to a drive on Route 169, consider these two former mill towns: Norwich, at the southern end, has museums, parks, and an eclectic city feel, and Putnam, at the northern end, has shopping, dining, and a classic small-town atmosphere.

Pomfret Station

Long-time readers of this blog may recall that for a little while I lived in Putnam, in the Quiet Corner. The area was not the best fit for me, demographically (my neighbors were perplexed that I lived alone, and for a while I became convinced that I was going to get thrown out of Target for daring to shop there without a baby) but I loved it. I still feel an instant calm when I drive into that northeastern Connecticut countryside, so much more subtle than the more famous - and more dramatic - hills of the northwest. And I still love each of the distinct little towns that provide the rare spots of light in the dark night of the "Last Green Valley."

All that background is to say I'm just a little obsessed with Windham County. And I've spent a fair amount of time driving on its winding roads. But though I'd rounded this particular corner more times than I could ever count, I somehow (obliviousness? blindness? careful attendance to the road in front of me?) had never looked up and spotted the former Pomfret Station at the top of the hill.

Part of the Air Line State Park Trail , which traces the 19th century Airline Railroad route between New York and Boston, the small station-slash-pavillion looks as out of place as a Victorian folly or a roadside curiosity built for double-takes. Even if you know the history of the area, how passengers once traveled by rail from the big cities to the country houses and fresh air, you think for a moment, Whaa? Trains went up there?

It's a bittersweet thing, the Pomfret Station. On the one hand, isn't it nice that those trains are gone and we can have peace and hiking trails and best-kept secrets. On the other hand, imagine how much more educated and civilized the world was when when everyone was just a little obsessed with Windham County.

Shopping, Quietly

My feelings about shopping are rather complicated. (Slight background, along with the history of Waterford's Crystal Mall, here.) I sometimes love it, though only in certain circumstances. Unless I have to do it, and then I hate it.

I've been told I'm good at it, which is nice, I guess, but if the stores don't have what you need it doesn't matter how good you are.

Also it would be nice if I could be good at something that paid me money, rather than the reverse.

In any case I am always looking for places to shop where I can usually find what I need, but even if I can't, the experience is at least pleasant rather than stressful and depressing.

And in the Quiet Corner, a few of those places are Silver Circle and Martha's Herbary.

And, I don't write about food very much, because a) I'm not much of a foodie and b) if I did the comments would fill up with stuff like "Oh I've seen you, chubby, and let me tell you, the last thing you need is more food!" But if you're already up in the QC (that is not an actual expression, to my knowledge) Bill's Bed and Breakfast - which is not a bed and breakfast - sells the best muffins in, well, a seriously long distance.

Three Little Libraries

In the Abington section of Pomfret, low to the ground on Route 97, there is a small white sign that marks the location of the Old Abington Burying Grounds. There is no road or driveway; a path worn into the ground leads tantalizingly away from the road. I slowed down to read the sign, to see, or attempt to see, down the path. A man mowing his lawn nearby looked at me with confusion, or possibly disdain. Most people, I gather, do not slow down for oddly-placed historic signs.

Another bit of Abington's past - and also Abington's present - that I slowed down to take in is this: the Abington Social Library.

"Social Library" sounds like a silly MTV show, but in the 18th century social libraries were basically clubs formed so members, who paid dues, could share books. Abington's library began with 100 volumes.

Today it is a regular free library, open to the public. But physically it retains all the charm of a time when the institutions we're now accustomed to were still being worked out, and things were done just a little differently. In much smaller buildings.

Abignton's is not the only diminutive library in the area. There is also the Pomfret Library, which for years held the title of smallest library I'd ever seen. That is, until I found...

The Windham Library. Which looks like the Capitol building of a very tiny Republic. It is "Connecticut's smallest freestanding library," according to its website, which also provides this improbable description of 18th century life in Windham:

"exceedingly hilarious and enjoyable...Good cheer abounded...Merry-makings of every description were frequent. The residents of Windham Green were especially noted for love of fun and frolic, bantering and jesting." 

It is true that while I was parked outside this library, a small army of children and adults on bicycles swarmed around my car shouting happily. But the extent of the exuberance in the above account still takes some doing to imagine.