October 1992 marked our first autumn living in Vermont. Up to that point, the farthest east I had been is Washington, D.C., and no farther north than Cooks Forest State Park in western Pennsylvania.
But as the leaves began to change in late September and peak in early October, we quickly discovered why the state received an annual inundation of leaf-peeping tourists!
So, one beautiful “Indian summer” morning, we took a break from the homeschool lessons to go on a fall foliage field trip. We packed a picnic lunch, grabbed a blanket, loaded the car, and set out on a leaf-peeping adventure.
I had heard that a popular route to take was VT Rt. 116—a two-lane highway that runs parallel to the Green Mountains, from Burlington in the north to East Middlebury, about 40 miles south. We picked up the route about 10 minutes from our home in Shelburne.
Given the relatively high traffic volume (by Vermont standards, not suburban Chicago’s!), the tourists had arrived in full force. But we just hopped into the flow, meandering our way towards East Middlebury.
And then I noticed something as we drove by at 45 mph. A little side road left the highly traveled route, crossed a stream, and went…who knows where? This was 1992, after all—there was no Google Maps or Garmin. And my Rand McNally atlas of Vermont wouldn’t likely have helped much.
I made a rather snap decision: we needed to head down that little road and do some exploring. As soon as I found a place to do so, we turned around, made our way back, and followed the “road less traveled.”
Shortly after leaving the main highway, the pavement on this narrow road gave way to gravel. The road narrowed even more—had we met an oncoming car, one of us would have to move a bit onto the shoulder. And, as we would discover is quite common on Vermont’s unpaved roads, it was like driving on a washboard. To make matters worse, tall bushes on one side of the road blocked our view of the hills to the east.
I then began to wonder if, in my impetuosity, I’d made the right decision!
Right about that time, though, I spotted a little break in the bushes, and it looked like it led into a meadow—which might be the perfect place for a picnic. So, I stopped the car, we grabbed our lunch and the blanket, and made our way through the narrow passage.
Coming out on the other side, I immediately knew why we took that narrow, off-the-beaten-path road. A vast, lush meadow lay before us, bordered by a magnificent, brilliantly colored hillside! The narrow, difficult way rewarded us greatly!
That first-year-in-Vermont experience taught us a valuable lesson when it comes to leaf-peeping. In the next 7 autumns of living in Vermont, and with each visit since, we’ve looked for those narrow roads off the main routes everyone else takes, and they rewarded us immensely!
One such occasion 14 years after moving from Vermont but back for an Autumn visit, we didn’t look for it. Someone directed us to it.
One of the things on our bucket list for that trip was to visit the Cabot creamery and store in the small northeastern Vermont town of Cabot. After taking the tour and getting some cheese, I stopped for gas at the Cabot Village Store (where someone actually pumps the gas for you!). Realizing we were visitors, the attendant suggested we get off the main road up ahead and venture down Cabot Plains Road. “You’ll be glad you did!” he suggested.
And was he right! I’ll not even bother trying to describe the scenery. The photos will tell the story.
The narrow roads with few travelers yield some of the greatest rewards!
THE Narrow Road
While this truism can enhance your vacation experiences, there’s a far more important spiritual parallel that determines our eternal experience!
Near the end of His “Sermon on the Mount,” Jesus exhorts his listeners:
Enter by the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. – Matthew 7:13-14
Jesus preached this message early in His public ministry. As time went on, the meaning of this graphic picture came sharply into view.
What is that “narrow gate”? Better, who is it?
Using the imagery of a shepherd and his sheep, Jesus identified Himself as the Good Shepherd who takes care of His sheep—those who are truly His. And in that illustration, Jesus declared,
Most assuredly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep…. I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved, and go in and out and find pasture. – John 10:7, 9
Jesus is the narrow gate by whom we must “enter” to have life—eternal life.
But there’s more.
On the night before the crucifixion, Jesus spent the evening with His closest followers, encouraging them in the face of what was coming in the next 24-72 hours. At one point, Jesus assured them of eternal life in heaven:
In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, that where I am, you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going. – John 14:2-4
One of those disciples piped up and remarked,
We do not know where you are going! How can we know the way?
And then Jesus offered this explanation that makes crystal clear the significance of the closing exhortation in His Sermon on the Mount:
I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. – John 14:6
Jesus is not only the narrow gate, He is the “hard way” that leads to life—to eternal life!
One-time resident of Vermont, Robert Frost, penned the famous poem The Road Less Traveled. He wasn’t at all commenting on Jesus’s sermon, but the closing lines graphically express its truth:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Indeed, entering the narrow gate (Jesus) and taking the road less traveled (Jesus) makes all the difference in the world…and forever!
