Chasing the Sunset at Blueberry Lake & Toasting a World Cup Champion

Ann mentioned that Lawson’s Finest Liquids in Waitsfield was hosting a celebration for local ski legend Paula Moltzan, she urged me to go and try to get her an autograph. Paula had just made history in October 2026, capturing her first-ever career World Cup victory by storming the giant slalom in Sölden, Austria. As is a massive fan.

Since I didn't have any plans for the afternoon I figured a trip up to the Mad River Valley was the perfect excuse to throw the mountain bike on the rack and scout some new dirt.

An hour's drive from Rutland meant time was tight, so I pulled up Trailforks to find something fast and fun. The Blueberry Lake Trails in Warren looked like the perfect match—a solid network of rolling green and blue lines.

Of course, standard operating procedure prevailed: I left Rutland later than intended. By the time I pulled up to the trailhead, the clock was ticking against an hour or two of remaining daylight. That’s a Vermont lesson I’m still learning the hard way. When you’re riding deep in the Green Mountains, the massive peaks swallow the afternoon sun much earlier than they do back home at Pine Hill Park or Slate Valley. Compounding the risk, I was only wearing a single, long-sleeved riding jersey into the truck. If the sun dipped behind the ridge and the temperature plummeted, I was going to be wildly underdressed.

The Trek to the Trailhead

The parking lot sits right on Plunkton Road, directly overlooking Blueberry Lake. Coming up from Rochester, my GPS threw a bit of a curveball—routing me all the way into Warren before hooking me back down. In hindsight, Plunkton Road cuts directly out onto Route 100 much further south. It’s likely the mapping app shied away from the dirt road, but it’s a great, spacious lot with beautiful waterfront views.

For this ride, I brought out the full-suspension rig. Within ten minutes, I was already kicking myself for not bringing the hardtail or even the fat bike. The squish bike hadn’t seen dirt in awhile and I thought it needed some love, but it certainly wasn’t loving me back on these smooth trails. I made do anyway.

I dropped in on Tootsie Roll, a aptly named trail with a heavily worn treadway that sits nearly six inches below the bordering grass in some sections. It honestly looks like someone scooped a giant Tootsie Roll right out of the earth. The trail starts by meandering through a fallow farm field, where four-foot-high dead goldenrod created some uniquely tight, interesting sightlines. Once it ducked into the woods, the flow improved with a series of gentle, well-crafted switchbacks that gained elevation without forcing a brutal, straight-up climb.

At the next intersection, I opted for Suki’s Alley—a fun one-way connector that feeds into the access trail for the neighboring hill.

Next up was Leonard’s Loop. Lacking local intel, I guessed and rode it counter-clockwise. Looking at the topo map, it seemed pretty climby no matter which direction you chose. It ended up being a fantastic, sustained grunt, made much sweeter by beautifully bermed switchbacks. Near the summit, the trail flattens out, contouring gracefully along the slope of the hill.

Just before the junction with Flying Squirrel, I encountered a downed tree lying at a sharp angle across the singletrack. If it had been perpendicular, it would have made an awesome log-hop; at that greasy angle, trying to ride over it was a recipe for disaster. I opted for a classic cyclocross suitcase-hop instead.

Local Intel and the Race Against Darkness

The descent down Leonard's was pure, fast fun. Near the connector intersection, I ran into a local woman walking an incredibly friendly dog. I asked her the million-dollar question: "What's the best direction to ride this?"

Without hesitation, she answered, "Clockwise." Note taken for next time.

With the shadows lengthening fast, I climbed back up the connector and treated myself to a second lap on Tootsie Roll—this time running it in reverse. I spun back to the truck right at 5:00 PM on the dot, loaded up, and high-tailed it over to the brewery.

Fest Bier and Fast Skiers

If I thought I was racing the clock on the trails, the real crowd was at Lawson's. The taproom was absolutely packed. It took a solid 20 minutes just to battle my way to the bar, but the reward was sweet: a pint of Lawson’s Fest Bier, easily my favorite autumn pour.

The atmosphere was electric. I managed to score an event poster, borrowed a pen, and lined up to meet Paula. She couldn't have been nicer, graciously signing the poster for Ann. Before hitting the road back to Rutland, I did a quick sweep of the retail shop, loading up on some fresh swag and two four-packs of Fest Bier to go.

When I got home and handed Ann the signed poster, her reaction made every missed turn and rushed mile worth it. Awesome trails, world-class beer, and celebrating Vermont ski history—not a bad way to spend a late October afternoon.