Barnet: Charlie Vaal

After enjoying my lunch by the river, I sit for a while, enjoying the noontime warmth. The river is wide and lazy here, looking more like a lake. I learn later that the Comerford dam, built just after the great flood of 1927 lies just down river of this spot. From where I sit, I can just make out an artificial stream of water which was the diversionary canal dug through ledge to prepare the building of the dam. Continuing down the road towards Barnet, I pass the dam, then cross the Passumpsic river, which had joined forces with Moose river in Saint Johnsbury, and then found its way down to the Connecticut. I cross the river on a classic trellis bridge, cross the railroad tracks, and then meet up with route five (last seen in Newport). 

Just before reaching Barnet, I see a private road leading up a steep hill to the right, and a sign that reads, “Milarepa Tibetan Buddhist Center.” Curious, I drive up the road, passing a stupa, a large open construction site, and then, at the top of the driveway, a large traditional Vermont farmhouse surrounded by half a dozen other outbuildings. When I get to the front door of the house, though, there is a placard that asks for any visitors not to disturb the grounds as there is a retreat going on. Disappointed, I head back down the mountain, stopping at the stupa to sit and meditate for a while.

Heading into Barnet, I’m equally disappointed. The library and town offices are all closed. There is a complex of buildings all around the Passumpsic river, with signs for healing arts I park and poke my head around, knocking on doors and looking in windows, but I can’t seem to find anyone to speak with. I drive up West Barnet Road, and just on the edge of town, I see a sign for Karme Choling Meditation center. “Something is happening here in the town of Barnet,” I think to myself, and I drive up the road toward the meditation center. This one is a much larger, and more organized place. The drive towards the center has three different parking areas, large gardens and at least five large meditation halls spotted through the grounds. There are flurries of activity everywhere. I park next to the main building where I meet a group of younger people, who are moving chairs and food service equipment around. One of the group explains that they are all in preparation for a large group which will be arriving soon. Unfortunately, no one has time to talk with me. They are all friendly, and one young man tells me about how he arrived here as a volunteer for the summer, but before I can get some details from him, he is swept up in the activity. I wander around for a few minutes, but then head back down the road. 

Finally, just as I reach the edge of Barnet, an area that the map labels as ‘Mosquitoville,’I see a skinny kid in a hoody and baseball cap greeting boats at the lake harvey boat launch. Many lakes in Vermont have been spoiled by invasive species, the most common being milfoil. Those that have managed to avoid that fate, like Lake Harvey, will employ a boat greeter, to make sure boats are properly washed before they enter the water. Charlie, a seventeen year old born in Saint Johnsbury, is happy to talk with me about his town, which he loves. He praises the quiet, and the natural beauty, but recognizes that the cost of this is the remoteness, having to drive pretty far for shopping etc. His experience, understandably from a teenager’s perspective, is of kids who work in landscaping, construction, or outdoors. I appreciate his quiet confidence, his communication skills and helpfulness. I thank him for his time, and head down the road towards Ryegate.