I called Samantha that following Wednesday. I felt like I had somehow; no, definitely, degraded and made a mockery our our relationship, but I couldn't tell her what had transpired. It would have to wait.

It was now November, and I was beginning to see December approaching fast. I had given my two-weeks notice at the wine bar, citing that I needed to move on. There was more for me to do in Vermont, and I had to do what I felt deep in my heart. Chloe would be sad to see me go. She even slated a party and closed the bar except for close friends and family of the entire crew. It would be held on a Thursday.

I knew that I needed to find a new place that would allow me to continue both my wine and craft beer education, and I also felt the need to get some additional classroom instruction by monitoring classes. I had enjoyed that in Burlington, and desired to get back to focused instruction. So as part of my search, I phoned some local colleges and spoke to the biology and chemistry professors. Food science was more aligned with biology, so I felt the need to get more acquainted with chemistry.

Just south of Montpelier, there was a program at Vermont Tech. At the Institute for Applied Agriculture and Food Systems, I would be able to further my education. Samantha continued to support me, but how would she take it when I "spilled the beans"

I had to tell her; somehow, someway!
 

Since I was to pick the restaurant, I chose something entirely different. The was a Thai place in town called The Royal Orchid. And since I knew the wine list would not be stellar, I decided to urchase a few bottles for Abigail and I to share with dinner.

There was no corkage fee, and I even took the extra step of bringing my own corkscrew. I purchased Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc, a white from the Malborough region of New Zealand, and a red from the Rioja region of Spain. This would at least get us started.

She started out with lite conversation, simply recapping some of what we had covered in the past three nites at the wine bar. She definitely seemed genuinely interested, and I could see the fire and passion in her eyes. "Maybe this was for real", I thought?

In a moments notice though, it turned very serious. She mentioned that she had "on a whim" booked a room for the nite at the Ugly Dog Cabin Bed & Breakfast. Knowing that his might happen, she looked me straight in the eye and said, "Are you up for it?" I thought for a split second, and said I was. Perhaps it was the wine talking, but I was now fully committed to a note with Abigail.

She was; undoubtedly, a beautiful women. Despite the fact that she had beautiful golden hair in curls, bright green eyes and a million dollar smile, I knew what was to come of the evening; and I also knew that remorse would eventually follow, the following day.

We dined for about two hours. When the last sip was gone, she said that she was ready to go straight away to the Ugly Dog Cabin. Upon arrival, we built a fire as it was a little breezy from the door which was slightly cracked. It had obviously weathered many winters and the weather had won.

We sat there drinking another bottle; this time a Chateneauf-du-Pape that she had purchased at a local wine store. She had purchased three to my surprise, and before turning in they would be gone. There was La Vieux Telegraphe, Rombauer Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon, and Tiganello; a Super-Tuscan from the Antinori Family.

As you might guess, it was a long nite. She was silky and smooth for a while before turning up the heat. Like a tigress in the wild, she devoured me for hours. I had never experienced anything like this before and perhaps she hadn't either. I was young and my youth still made me like the tiger that fit well with the tigress.

By morning, we were both wore out. We slept only an hour by the fireplace, having made it to the bed and back to the floor several times. At 6:00 AM, we made coffee in the room before going to breakfast at 7:00 AM. Check out was not until 11:00 AM, and before then, she would remove every last bit of body fluid I had.

At eleven, she left for New Hampshire, and the remorse started.

On Saturday and Sunday, Abigail came into the bar as promised. She was there at 7:00 PM sharp on Saturday and at noon on Sunday. She started with a chocolate Martini on Saturday and then moved on to whit wine and finally reds. On her list of alcoholic beverages that evening, there was Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc from the Malborough region of New Zealand, followed by Alamos Cabernet from Mendoza, Argentina.

I also recommended some of the more unknown corners of the world, like Chateneauf-du-Pape, Cornas, and even far away corners like Paraguay and Uruguay. Regions like the Uco Valley and others...these up-and-comers were my favourites. Even in America, I stayed away from Napa, and steered her more toward the Finger lakes and Walla Walla.

On Sunday, she started with my Signature Bloody Mary. Personally, I like them spicy, so I add a little extra kick for those without a faint heart. It seemed her desire for me and her desire for bodily pain were synonymous. I knew; if given the opportunity, that she would take me for a "walk on the wild side"; however, there was the issue of Samantha.

She had asked me everything to include my favourite sports teams and my previous relationships; and current, in those three days. She took time and careful aim at my heart. And to my surprise, it was working. I was being worked on and worked on like Muhammad Ali used to do with his competitors. He used to "float like a butterfly and sting like a bee"; remember. Well, Abigail had worked me for twelve rounds and was heading in for the kill. One final uppercut, and I would be toast.

It took every ounce of me to attempt to resist, but I allowed her to take me to dinner Monday nite. I was to pick the place and had strict orders for a place with fine dining and a nice; even excellent, and expansive wine list. "Was she going to get me drunk and take advantage of me"? "Would she then jet off to New Hampshire or Maine and never return"? These are the questions I had as I lay in my bed on this Sunday evening.

"What was Abigail's angle"?

Things were going well at the wine bar. I was earning good tips, and Chloe, the food and beverage manager, was taking my input and allowing me to be a part of the wine I served and the offerings we added to the list. Additionally, we started having a featured Martini and added about twenty in total to the list.

One evening, I had a client that had been coming in from time to time; always traveling on business. Her name was Abigail. Abigail was a traveling pharmaceutical representative and Vice President for Pfizer. She covered most of Vermont, Maine and New Hampshire. She almost always ordered our reds, but she had been ordering the wines that I had been featuring.

On this particular evening, she started with a Loire Valley Riesling. Since she was not familiar with this particular region of France, and she had many questions to ask. While she wore a sweater made from El Paca wool that evening with a cowl neck, I could sense her eagerness to chat with me. The small-talk drifted away from the wine and focused more on me.

I had figured when telling her that I was in Vermont to find myself that may have a negative effect. However, she chimed in and mentioned that she went thru that period later in life; close to thirty, before landing an entry-level job at Pfizer. She talked about how it was an important time in her life and how; in the end, it allowed her to develop a "laser focus" as to what she was to do next.

Prior to this, she had worked mainly in restaurants, bars and retail while earning a Master's degree in history and secondary education. She sat on that bar stool until 2:00 AM. Promising that she would return the next evening, she mentioned she would be there each nite until Tuesday, and she asked me to go out with her on Monday.

I was skeptical, but thought it couldn't hurt. "Could a woman of thirty-seven truly be interested in me", I thought. I pondered it in my bed; looking at the ceiling for nearly an hour.

I would soon find out...

My opportunity in New York was successful. I had gone to the Hudson Valley and came back victorious.

It was time to jet to a new location in Vermont. As I poured over the map, there was something about Montpelier that was calling my name. Off in a flash after packing, I headed southeast along the Winooski River thru Richmond and Waterbury. It was a beautiful drive and now as it was headed into winter the softness of the snowflakes hitting the ground in front of me barely covered the road before melting.

It was a short drive away and even with the skift of snow upon the roads the trip was only forty-five minutes.

I arrived in Montpelier excited to see what the city held for the next little bit. A restaurant called the Skinny Pancake on 89 Main Street grabbed my attention. I knew there would be some fresh Vermont Maple Syrup involved, so I was in. They offered everything from catering to live music, so I knew this would be a spot of interest for me for the length of my stay. I also needed to find decent lodging; and maybe a job, as I was starting to deplete the line of credit that my father had helped me obtain. It seemed to be weighing on me to take on that responsibility. With any luck, I would make enough to continue to pay on the open note and replenish my funds with the goal of being able to tell my father that the debt had been repaid and was open and available upon my return.

Armed with a Level I Sommelier designation, I interviewed for a position at the North Branch Wine and Tea Bar. The owner was kind enough to start me on the schedule the following Thursday, and I would work there three nights a week on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. This would increase my wine knowledge and I could put into practice both the skills I had learned on my own and perhaps those of the introductory course.

They served a robust selection with a focus on Italy and France, and I had hoped to persuade the food and beverage director of my knowledge. I had hoped to be allowed to suggest new offerings for the list on a limited release basis, and see how our clients would enjoy it before adding it to the growing wine list.

I found lodging for the next unknown time at Snowflake Mountain Resort and Spa. Normally at $289/nite, I was able to talk them into a month long contract at $50/nite. While that was still a hefty fee, they agreed to let me have the weekend days free of charge since I had booked four entire weeks for the month. I would be able to renew upon full payment in a month if I chose.

I was close to Stowe, so I skied in the early morning hours and during the week. I needed to find a forum to continue my wine education, so a short meeting with the food and beverage director for suggestions was eminent.

Samantha was excited to hear about my new prospects. She believed that the part-time job was an excellent idea, as I would need three years of wine service to be allowed to take the Advanced Level Sommelier Exam; one step before the the Master's Level Exam to become one of the most prestigious few in the world of wine.

I attended the introductory course toward becoming a sommelier.

The most exciting part for me was the knowledge that I gained from learning about the different wine regions from around the world. I focused as much on the smaller AVA's as I did on the larger ones. What I found in my learning, is that I became excited about the small producers in small and obscure places around the world. Cornas in France. Smaller cousins next to Bordeaux, Rioja, Portugal, and even those in Chile and Paraguay. Not just winter gear comes from Paraguay...there is palatable wine to drink and to share.

We learned about tasting and serving, and I was quite familiar with the former and learned a bit about the latter; enough to be proficient at least. We carried on late into the afternoon on the second day and I was excited to get to a restaurant and bar to "taste" the evening away.

The exam was scheduled for 9:00 AM, with three hours to complete the written portion. I had tasted many wines and served a few times; mostly in Burlington to students and professors. The knowledge I gained about the chemistry, wine making process and the wine regions of the world would come in handy sooner rater than later.

I phoned Samantha to let her know that I scored in the 85th percentile.

I was clicking my heels like an Irishman when I left. I had gained a new appreciation for wine, and now I was on the cusp of leaning away from craft beer and making a strong foray into the wine world. Case closed!

I would be victorious on that day and win the gold medal. While there was no further race to move onto, I have won a "Gold" that day, and it seemed to place a catapulting feeling on my heart. It was time to leave Burlington.

Samantha and I continued to talk each Wednesday and Saturday. It was past mid-semester and she was doing well in her classes. I had gained quite a bit of personal knowledge; mostly in my food science classes. I wondered how I would continue to learn, and I began looking for some options.

In the Hudson Valley of New York, I noticed a two-day wine school hosted by the Master Court of Sommeliers. This would serve as a foundation to continue my wine education. As an American Viticultural Area and restaurant Mecca, the Hudson Valley area was no stranger to food and wine.

The class was scheduled for October 24, and I had hoped to pass the introductory exam. I would be learning about the wine regions of the world, the AVA's, the kinds of varietals that are most commonly grown within and how to present and taste wine. I knew it would be an excellent resume-builder; as I was still beneath the "dark clouds" of what I wanted to do with my life.

Prior to going to the class, I drank many bottles in preparation. There were California Cabernets, Virginia Cabernet Francs,German Rieslings, Malborough Sauvignon Blancs, and even North Carolina Muscadets. I was going to be fully prepared to pass on the first go-around and share this new accomplishment with Samantha.

Additionally, I had been practicing pairing food with wine. This is really where the "rubber meets the road", if a career as a sommelier was ever going to be my path. I was; however, interested in making beer as much as wine; and Vermont craft breweries were popping up like dandelions in the early spring. To add to that, Samantha was close to the home of "craft brewing", as Samuel Adams operations were in Boston. The Boston Beer Corporation had spent the last thirty years making a slow, but exponential foray into the beer market, and was gaining share by the quarter and year against the behemoths like Molson-Coors and Inbev/Anheuser Busch. I wondered if there would be an internship in Boston, but I would further my education first and foremost.

There were a few items left to cross of my list in Burlington. I wanted to attend a session in the government building to see what that might look like. Politics always had seemed to be quite glamorous to me and the perks and benefits; even after leaving office, were quite good; even unimaginable. Who gets a salary for life, an office for life, a new car every three years and free healthcare? Answer, former politicians!

On the coming Thursday, there was a session that I was able to attend. The topics were not exciting, but I was able to catch a glimpse of the process. The airports in Vermont needed some infrastructure updating, and the vote was around the firm that the government would choose to use for general obligation bonds. This firm would also be tapped to perhaps do some bond issuance for road for roadway infrastructure as well.  I was asked to attend lunch by one of the councilman and I was able to tell my story a bit.

I had come to Vermont to find myself. To ski, to study and to chart a path that would take me to the next level in my life and career. He asked me many questions, and I answered succinctly. This particular House member had taken a hiatus to Europe in his younger years, so we found some common ground. Upon returning, he attended law school at Yale and had been in the same class as George H. W. Bush. Yale was no stranger to politicians, and he had made it onto several important committees including the finance committee meeting that I had just attended. While he had only twelve years in office, he was vested for all benefits.

Thursday's meeting was interesting, but I was more excited for Saturday. At Sugarbush, they were having an amateur junior slalom race. I had entered and paid the $75 entry fee. I was one of sixteen who had entered and would take my run in fifteenth place.

As I stood at the top of the mountain, stretched back, poles securely in the ground and awaiting the horn, I was a ball of anticipation. Once the horn sounded, I thrust forward and began my downhill run. The sun was blazing and made the snow and patterns before me glare with an almost unmistakable line. There had been fourteen skiers before me creating the S-curve paths.

I made it to the halfway point just a one-hundredth of a second behind the leader. It would be hard to gain ground as the second half was quite longer and wider sweeping than the first. As I was winding thru the course, I noticed my breathing getting stronger and my heart beating faster. It was only a few poles to the finish line and when I reached it I bent over and pushed my chest thru the the finishing rope. I had made it. By two-hundredths of a second, I held the lead with one skier to go.

But for now, it was time to continue my sabbatical in Vermont.

Samantha's visit was too short. We had excellent conversation that would be memorable for many moons by the fireplace at the cabin in Stowe. We had previous memories from there and would make new ones this time. We tried new wines from California and I had introduced her to La Vieux Telegraphe from Chateauneuf du Pape and some wines from Cornas. Cornas was also an up-and- coming region, and in the good years, the wines were succulent, fresh and quaffable at a young age, but would also age well with time in the bottle.

I was sad to see Samantha go. She had stayed until 8:00 PM, and I was a bit concerned about her driving so far after dark, but, we prayed together and I knew God would be her passenger and companion for the evening.

She arrived in the early morning hours and called after sending a text message to let me know that she was safe. Once back in Boston, she lamented at the fact and mentioned more than once that she was sad and happy; happy to be back, but sad to have left. She had been by my side for only fifty-four hours, but we had made memories.

I would continue to go to classes on Monday. As mentioned previously, I was gaining knowledge by the day in the area of food science. I continued to make wine and beer in my small cabin that I was renting. I was skiing on the weekend to clear my head and think about the direction that I would take next. It would soon be time to scope out a new location.

We had reconnected that weekend and renewed our bond.

Sugarbush and Stowe were our preferred venues for the weekend and we would stay at Stowe in a cabin like we did once before. Our time sitting by the fireplace and talking about our prospective futures was refreshing. I was going to eventually be a winemaker and Samantha a scientist. I could see her easily flourishing in her career. With her father's guidance and recommendation, she would surely find a job in "Big Pharma", probably even before graduation.

I wondered where I might end up and wanted to attend the wine school in Bordeaux. It was the most renowned wine school in the world, and a close second was University of California at Davis. The Robert Mondavi school had been started and new centers and schools had been popping up on the map for quite some time.

I would definitely have to apply to the entire gamut to be accepted somewhere. It was harder to be accepted to the University of California at Davis without a strong recommendation and even further being a California resident. Those two things in conjunction seemed to be the "Golden Ticket". I would have to find a way.

Samantha was supportive of my plans. If there was one thing that I could see from her, it was that she would be eternally supportive of my goals, dreams and aspirations. I longed for someone to be so kind, loving and respectful.

In the following fall, I would gain a harvest internship at Chateau Montelena in California. I had applied to nearly sixty wineries, and received one response. I had chosen opportunities in the "Big Five"; which were California, Washington, Virginia, Oregon and the smaller, but up-and-coming  North Carolina. Within each, I chose the top American Viticultural Areas such as Napa and Sonoma, the Russian River Valley, the Charlottesville and Northern Virginia area, the Williamette Valley, and the Yadkin Valley in North Carolina. And luckily, I had been chosen as one of a select few to Chateau Montelena.

Samantha came to Burlington ten days after we talked. I can remember our embrace as we were certainly both caught "in the moment". It was a moment of sweet surrender; for each other, passion and love; or at least that is what I felt. It seemed like our embrace lasted for hours; maybe even days, but as I feel sure you know, it was but seconds to a minute at most.

Samantha had never been to Burlington, so we decided that I should show her around town. Later in the evening we would get something to eat and just catch up. On the weekend we would go to Sugarbush and Stowe. Sugarbush would be a new destination...new slopes, new lodge, and new experiences. Stowe was something; a place where we both had memories, and we would make new.

Samantha enjoyed Burlington. She found it to be quaint, yet contemporary. I agreed that the description she had come up with was right on the money. Quaint, yes! Contemporary, somewhat! Forward thinking, yet to be determined! At any rate, we walked the streets and held each others hands and talked about school for her and my sabbatical. I was doing well and keeping my expenses to a minimum. I had found a reasonable place to stay in Burlington and had purchased lift tickets for the season to Sugarbush and Stowe.

Samantha was one-and-a-half semesters from graduation. I was proud of her and she was getting somewhat proud of herself. She remained less modest than most; however, she knew she had done well as compared to her peers and would have a good chance at a job in the industry side of the pharmaceutical business. Her mother and father would be proud, even though her mother would have preferred medical school.

I on the other hand was studying food science, making beer and wine, hosting tasting events once a month, skiing on the weekends, and just trying to keep a clear head. I was ecstatic when Samantha arrived, as I felt a "tug of war" on my emotions with respect to Emma; even though I tried hard to squash those feelings. Seeing Samantha solidified not only my feelings, but our relationship. I wanted her back in my arms, and would have it for a weekend. My Irish girl had come home!

I decided the following weekend as I was skiing that I would have to tell Samantha on Monday; well, Wednesday, as that was when I called. Emma and I had been seeing a lot of each other. Mostly class and lunch and the occasional beer after a long day of classes; but now, she had mentioned having a "movie night: at either my place or hers. While innocent in its very nature, I still felt compelled to talk to Sam before moving any further.

When I phoned Samantha on Wednesday, she was in good spirits. She was not surprised that I had made a few friends until I told her about Emma. I could hear the hesitation in her voice when she stated that whether or not I chose to see her in more than just an academic setting was up to me. I could tell she didn't mean it. "Who was I...", I thought; with many endings to that sentence? Who was I to see others, when it was Samantha who had helped me plan this sabbatical? I struggled.

I put Emma off for another week citing planning issues around my next stop in Vermont. "Who knows where I will be", I stated? This was entirely true, as I had picked out several destinations for my journey. Upset, she stormed off after organic chemistry toward the library. She had wanted to spend some additional time to get to know me; and reluctantly, I her; but I was still unsure how I felt about it.

October was coming to a close. It was now the 10th, and there was not a break until Thanksgiving. Samantha and I talked about Emma a time or two more, but I continued to sidestep her citing the fact that I was soon leaving Burlington; as it was just one part of my sabbatical. Emma was relentless, but she would not be victorious. In the end, it was Samantha that I desired, and I realized that these passes may become common on this trip.

Samantha finally stated on Saturday, after I explained that I had not wanted to pursue Emma, that she thought we should see each other. She was willing to come to Vermont for the weekend, and soon after she hoped that I would come to her home for Thanksgiving. It would once again have to be approved, but having gone there for Easter; I was most likely a "shoe-in" for Thanksgiving.

I agreed that she should come to Burlington.

I noticed that my website was gaining in popularity. I even had wine enologists following my blog. I feel sure they thought, "What does this kid traveling thru Vermont on a teenage conquest know about Tiganello", but I did! The fact of the matter was, I knew my wine; and I felt in my heart of hearts that no one on the entire earth could dispute it.

Class after class, I was perfecting my craft. By the middle of October, I had perfected my harvest brew and a few of my wines. It would take me longer to figure out the divine and precise chemistry for te wine, but I made strides forward every week.

Samantha was excited at my progress, and I feel sure it was because she could hear the enthusiasm in my voice on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Each time we talked, I would report on my progress. It would be in November, about the 3rd of the month, that I would meet someone who ma be a game changer.

She was the younger sister of a senior at the university. She was tall, lean, and incredibly beautiful with a complexion that rivaled that of Pocahontas. The family was originally from Toronto, Canada and had moved to Vermont to a somewhat warmer climate and better job prospects for her father, a biologist by trade. He was working for the forestry service, and Emma; the girl that caught my eye, was interning at the Forest Service with her father and attending community college in Vermont.

She, too, wanted to follow in the footsteps of her father and work for the government. While I had never thought about the security of such a job, (I guess I had more of an entrepreneurial spirit) she was content to move along at a snail's pace in her career as her father had done. It was a family of four, and her father had done well enough that she was raised with a mother as a homemaker. Cynthia was her name, which was easy to remember. Not necessarily common for that era, but memorable.

I was initially not enthralled by Emma, but she grew on me like a spreading virus. I struggled about what to do; as I was drawn to her, and she more so to me. Samantha would surely have to know at some point, but I was not ready to share the general identity of my new acquaintance and friend.

I was learning quite a bit in my classes and I was beginning to get good at it. Science was coming easier to me than I thought, as I was now studying it from the framework of something I truly had an interest in; food science. Being the "wino" tat I was; and had become, this oenophile was becoming the top student in the program without a grade.

My professors would even speak highly of me, as I had now become recognized as the top student who was "not a student" at the university. I became quite popular. I was mostly skiing at Stowe on the weekends, as I had had such good memories, and felt comfortable and at home there. It had become a place where I could get away for a few days and just be "one with the slopes".

By mid-September, I was beginning to make my own beer and wine. At the outset, I felt it appropriate to make a late Summer Ale and a Pumpkin Wheat beer. My first batch was not as good as the second, and my second the third. I was getting better at each attempt. With regards to wine, I needed to order grapes. The only real viable thing available to me in Vermont was fruit for cider, and that did not excite me. I did source some grapes from California, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and New Mexico. New Mexico was a young foray into the wine world, and I wanted to give these grapes a "college try".

M experiments were going well and getting better. I managed to get my Organic Chemistry professor to allow me to throw a tasting party for my class. Those who were over the legal age could attend; and I must say, I had quite a draw at the first event. Surprisingly, I would be asked to hold the event once per month.

I began blogging my experiences on a website that I created. While busy with classes and the like, I did manage to keep up with Samantha. We were on a twice weekly schedule, talking on Wednesday and Saturday; as I would have plenty to share. She shared that she was doing better in her classes, as she now had more focus. It was industry, not medicine.

As we talked each day, I could feel the impending fire in my stomach for this trip. It was now only three days away and my car was already packed. At nite I would go out and look at the stars. I would miss Maryland, but I was excited to embark on my journey.

I left on a Friday morning. I wanted to see the sun come up as I drove north. It would take me two days to travel as I took my time and I would arrive on Sunday. On Monday, I would monitor my first Food Science class at the University of Vermont. I knew already that there would be plenty of eligible, single girls on that beautiful fall campus; full of color, but I also knew that Samantha would be the only woman on my mind. Her beautiful Irish look; red hair, green eyes, freckles here and there and her beautiful complexion; and body of course, which I had held by my side many a nite in Vermont by the fireplace. She was my everything.

I arrived in Burlington to a city that was relaxed and calm. Monday would be much different as the government session for the fall had started on September 1. School had been in for a week, just starting after the Labor Day break. Now it would be "balls to the wall" for the students attending their classes.

My first class was at 8:00 AM sharp. Organic Chemistry! I would also monitor Molecular Biology, an English class I really didn't need, a complex math course to go along hand-in-hand with Chemistry and finally Psychology. I figured I would be in Burlington monitoring classes at the University for the better part of two months. I would ski on the weekends to include Friday as I had classes until Thursday only. I would be pleasantly surprised with the instruction, the classes, the professors and also the eye candy.

But my thoughts would never stray far from Samantha!

With about ten resorts within a short driving distance, I knew I would find time to ski. I was already familiar with Sugarbush and Stowe; as I had visited Stowe the previous winter. The memories of my first visit to Stowe were not good, but grand! I had met Samantha and developed a bond that I believed, at this point, was meant to be unbroken. All that would remain to be seen, as I would soon embark on a journey all my own.

Samantha had been supportive, and I was now just seven days from leaving home. My father and I had made arrangements for me to have a line of credit from a well capitalized Vermont bank. People's United Bank had a large footprint and branches in each place I thought I would visit. The only thing left to do finalize my packing.

One of our family cars was an older Jetta TDI. It was not new to the family, but at the same time not old in the way that it needed repairs every twenty minutes. It was a 2008 model with the necessary power options and the unnecessary like leather interior and heated and cooled seats and even dual-climate control were passed over when my father bought the car. It was practical. It would be my carriage for the next few months as I traveled Vermont.

I was talking with Samantha each night during my last seven days prior to lift-off. As the days grew shorter, they seemed longer; only because I had been waiting all summer with anticipation to start this journey. In the next few days, my father and I would develop one final punch list. Together, we would bond for a few hours each day in the next couple. I could tell that he was somehow going to be living thru me vicariously as we carefully packed each and every item. He had personally bought me several items; including a compass, atlas, and a windproof lighter. Basics, but critically important. While I was grateful for the assistance in funding, I felt more love and some additional security in these small, but vital items.  

The way I had it figured, I would probably spend most of my time in Burlington. Burlington is where "Big Government" is, and I also wanted to sit in on some classes at the University of Vermont. Food science and agriculture is what I was most interested in monitoring.

Since I had majored in Pre-Med at Frostburg State University, it was or seemed clear that I would be able to use that knowledge as a foundation for the learning or instruction that I might garner from the food science classes. I was; as you know, interested in wine, and had become quite the connoisseur at the tender age of twenty-two. Samantha even noticed early in the beginning of our relationship that I had a knack for that stuff.

I had researched the qualifications thru the Court of Master Sommeliers and felt sure that I could pass the introductory and advanced exams. I would have to really get fired-up and focus on my ability to taste and recognize. My best guess is that I would have to get around a few of the right people...those who were also studying for the exam. Additionally, it made sense to start a journal. I reasoned that while I was on my sabbatical in Vermont, I would need to bone-up on my wine knowledge.

Dad was kind enough to agree to give me a loan.

The summer flew by quickly and it was just a few weeks before I would start my adventure in Vermont. It was September 1st. I began packing even though I was two weeks away before "lift-off". Things were getting more exciting by the minute. I went shopping at Orvis and other outlets like Columbia, Patagonia and Eddie Bauer. Mom agreed to by me new skis for my adventure as an early Christmas gift; as she knew I would not return before April. I reasoned that I should return to Boston for Easter Break to visit Samantha.

I hoped and prayed that Sam would visit me over winter break. Certainly she would be home for Christmas, and I thought I might even visit her at Christmas, but it would be entirely dependent on how and where I was in my adventure.

The packing began after much shopping. I decided on some Rossignol skis and boots. If they were good enough for the professional downhill skiers, they would certainly be good enough for me. I reminisced on growing up in my early years how I would watch the downhill slalom and Super-G skiers navigate the mountainsides of hills I could never traverse. I was an accomplished skier, but not that good.

The ten grand that my father agreed to give me would have to last six months. It was time to research some places to stay along the way. Hotels would be out, as in peak season they would be too expensive. Oddly enough, Lee had some relatives in Killington, so I asked him to chat with them about me staying over the detached garage that they had as a place of respite for a time. I would be  staying in Killington for only a few weeks, but this would certainly lower my expenses for that leg of my trip. Certainly, they would offer me the place for a few weeks, and I would not overstay my welcome.

Things went well over Easter break. I could easily say that Samantha and I rekindled a flame that was still burning, and made it even brighter. She would continue to help me plan, and I would continue to have the burning desire in my mind, body and soul for Vermont.

I ordered some material from Vermont College in Burlington; the capital city, which has a huge plethora and affinity for government. Big government. And while it is a small city by proportion, it is big in a way that you would have to see to believe; so I'm told. I will soon be finding out.

Vermont College looked beautiful in the fall and winter photos. I could see why there was such a high attendance rate from students from within the Vermont borders. Why not attend a State school, with lower (much lower at that) tuition and receive almost the same caliber as a private college. Seemed logical to me. Better known as the University of Vermont, I could see that I would definitely be attending some classes in a supervisory or simply advisory/attendee status. One is almost always allowed to "sit in" on a college course, and I decided to take advantage of some classes within the Food Science and Agricultural Department.

It was now May, and only a few months more to plan and finalize. I knew I would start in Burlington, go from there to Killington, and then off to Stowe. In the early fall, I could walk the National Parks, hie, bike, kayak and simply meander throughout the State. I would go to Maple Syrup farms, cheese and dairy farm, and of course, the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream factory. Taste testing ice cream, yummy!!!

There was still time to do some research and put a finer pencil in place for what I would do and where I would go. Dad and I sat down one evening, and figured I would need between $7,500 and $10,000 to "sow my wild oats". I would never stray from the idea of being with Samantha, and I promised to send cards, knick knacks and the like to her. She would get lonely from time to time as I never promised to "phone home" like E.T. every nite. I simply stated to her that I would call with news and updates.