An Island in the Storm: Testing the Wabash (and My Legs) in the Taconics

While rain was forecasted all day on Friday, a sudden break in the weather around 2 PM gave me the perfect window to head out on the Yamaha Wabash RT. It’s the only bike in my stable equipped with full fenders, and since it’s a Class 3 e-bike with pedal assist, it was also the perfect candidate for a wet-weather shakeout. Funnily enough, I hadn't ridden this bike in almost two years; an issue at my old office building had prevented me from recharging the battery in the garage, which ultimately put an end to my bike commuting.

To make things interesting, I decided to ride exclusively in Eco-Mode. I wanted to get a solid workout and test the battery conservation for longer rides down the road. Eco-mode gave me just enough juice to offset the weight of the nearly 50-pound bike on the climbs while helping power me through the straightaways.

I started by riding up Killington Avenue and making my way toward Stratton Road. As I moved into the left lane to turn at the hospital, a young guy in a delivery van pulled up alongside me. He was intending to turn right onto Allen Street, but took a moment to inform me that I "wasn't allowed on the road."

I politely let him know he didn't know what he was talking about and suggested he actually read the Vermont cycling laws sometime.

Shaking off the highway lawyer, I headed out on Stratton Road. Looking across the Otter Creek River Valley, the sun was shining beautifully on the overlooking ridge. The fall foliage was simply wonderful. Whoever claimed that the autumn colors are past peak forgot to check the Northern Taconic Range. I was incredibly thankful for the fenders as the roads were completely soaked. I also wore my waterproof winter riding boots for good measure—experience has taught me that my feet still find a way to get wet despite having fenders.

As I rode past the Rutland Southern Vermont Regional Airport, I noticed heavy, dark clouds looming to both the south and the north. For some reason, Rutland was acting as a perfect little island in the middle of the storm.

Heading deeper into the Taconics, I tackled the climb up Walker Mountain Road. What a punchy, challenging ascent that is—a 1-mile, Category 4 hill averaging an 8.1% grade and maxing out at nearly 14%. 

Unfortunately, the battery on my cadence sensor was dead, so I couldn't track my exact RPMs. Instead, I focused on keeping my spin high to maximize the efficiency of the pedal-assist motor. I’m pretty sure I was climbing at double my usual speed, maintaining a steady 7 to 8 mph.

My original plan was to stick entirely to paved roads. However, as I passed Gravel Pit Road in Chippenhook, the allure of unridden gravel and bagging more Wandrer miles pulled me in like a moth to a flame. 

Little did I realize that this, too, was a punchy climb—nearly a mile long with a 3.7% average grade and a max pitch of 10%.

Back on Walker Mountain Road, I paused at one of my favorite local roadside geological features: the Walker Mountain Road Rock Fold in Clarendon. Located just north of the intersection with Teer Road, this compressed rock formation is a stunning display of structural geology. You can clearly see the distinct layers of rock curving dramatically upward, indicating a nearby fault where tectonic pressure—or perhaps magma forcing its way up—bent the ancient strata.

From there, it was a thrilling, downhill coast all the way into West Rutland.

The last remaining establishment on historic Marble Street is a bar called the The Tavern.

Checking my Wandrer map, I tracked down a few more unridden side streets to round out my coverage. 

While cruising along Route 4, a bright yellow Surly hanging from a porch ceiling caught my eye. I stopped to snap a picture, and the homeowner came out to chat. The bike on display was a fixed-gear Surly Steamroller, and his porch was a goldmine of cool rigs. Along with a few other vintage bikes, he had an e-bike, a mountain bike, and a cargo trailer parked outside. He told me that since West Rutland no longer has a laundromat, he hitches the trailer to his e-bike and hauls his laundry all the way into Rutland to get it washed. Talk about practical e-bike utility!

Next, I climbed up into Durgy Hill Heights to visit St. Bridget's Church, Vermont's very first stone Roman Catholic church. Its construction was a monumental community effort; the marble was generously donated by the Sheldon and Slason Marble Company, and local quarry laborers volunteered their time to build it at night after working their regular shifts. 

It's a neat piece of local history, especially since the nearby Sheldon and Slason Roads still bear those names.

From the church, I continued north on Pleasant Street. Looking out to the west, the view was growing increasingly hazy. It looked like heavy fog, but I quickly realized it was a wall of rain heading right for me.

The pavement gave way to dirt, and before turning west, I wanted to scout the dirt road that follows the power lines up toward Florence to see if it was passable. It turned out to be completely blocked off. 

If I want to log those Wandrer miles in the future, I’ll have to approach it from the north side.

With the weather closing in, I picked up the pace on my return to town via Marble Street. East of the road sit some old marble quarries; I made a mental note to come back with my truck sometime to pick up some of the discarded marble slag for home projects.

By now, a consistent drizzle was falling, and it was high time to get home.

 I managed to roll into the driveway just before the skies truly opened up, and I was absolutely cooked.

I’m continuously amazed at what a fantastic workout you can get on an e-bike. Even though the motor is giving you a helpful push, you still have to put in the work—and if you want to maintain a high speed, you have to pedal hard. It was a fantastic, stormy test for the Wabash, and a great afternoon in the hills. I think I still had at least half a battery left after 34 miles and 2,000 feet of climbing.