The US's newest bikepacking trail is pioneering a whole new way to see Vermont

The Heart of the Greens trail threads through Vermont's stunning Green Mountain wilderness, and is the first part of an ambitious bikepacking adventure that will someday span the state.

My mountain bike tyres thud over pebbles and roots as I whizz through the darkening path. Dusk has fallen over Vermont's Green Mountain National Forest and nearly 400,000 acres of woods extend in every direction. In the distance, I spot pinpricks of light. The campsite is finally near.

In the last fleeting moments of light, I arrive at the Chittenden Brook campground. As I wheel my bike past the welcome sign, I spy a slick, modern hut with pine siding. I'd planned to simply pitch a tent – to this weary bikepacker, the hut's glass windows and wraparound porch seem like the lap of luxury.

Next time, I thought, I'm staying there.

This hut is part of the Heart of the Greens Loop, a 38-mile (61km) bike trail loop and the first completed segment of an ambitious, continuous bikepacking network that, when completed, will stretch 485 miles (780km) and span the entire state.

My journey began that morning in Rochester, a picturesque village nestled in Vermont's mountainous White River Valley.

I've driven through it dozens of times without stopping, but since it became the official start and end point of The Heart of the Greens when it opened in 2024, the tiny town has become a magnet for bikepackers. Like me, many are eager to blend the escapism of camping with the thrill of cycling through Vermont's glacial-carved wilderness and explosion of autumnal colours.

The loop is a closed-circuit preview of the forthcoming Velomont, a bikepacking route through Central Vermont with a twist: it will be connected by 30 cleverly spaced off-grid huts allowing tired pedallers to bed down in protected forest shelter.

On track to finish the first 200 miles (321km) within the next 10 years, the project echoes a larger trend in bicycle travel: statewide bikepacking routes are in development in Utah, Massachusetts and along the entire West Coast. 

I grew up near Rochester and have dreamed of such a multi-day bikepacking route. For now, I'm thrilled to take on the Heart of the Greens. Two huts are already placed along the trail, roughly 19 miles (30km) apart: the Chittenden Brook Hut, featuring simple bunks and a self-service kitchen, and Spikehorn Yurt. The yurt doesn't have electricity, and neither accommodation has running water. The route's huts will straddle a curious middle ground between camping and traditional stays, allowing bikepackers to carry lighter gear and immerse themselves in the wilderness.

The Heart of the Greens may be considerably shorter than the Velomont, but with a cumulative ascent of nearly 6,000ft (1,830m) on largely unpaved forest roads and trails, it's no less intense. 

"It's a big walk on the wild side," says Doon Hinderyckx, owner of Green Mountain Bikes in Rochester, when I stop by before shoving off. Hinderyckx encourages visitors to hire e-bikes for navigating the steeper grades: "You're mixing mountain biking and the adventure of the challenging terrain. You're on and off the seat a lot."

It also requires a bike with thick tyres and suspension, a water filter and provisions, since the current route passes through only two small backcountry villages – Rochester and, 9 miles (14km) south, Pittsfield. Like the huts, eateries and general stores along the trail itself are still in development, so I've packed several meals, plus rain gear and insect repellent, despite the beautiful late summer weather. Hinderyckx checks the air pressure in my inner tubes and oils my chain. He's the last mechanic I'll see for the next two days.

Next door to Green Mountain Bikes stands the Stable Inn, run by Hinderyckx's wife, Anni MacKay. This handsome two-story guesthouse opened in 2023, with a range of rooms, Nordic-chic decor and rooftop solar panels, converted from a timber-frame warehouse from the 1840s. While not an official hut on the trail, the Stable Inn has become a base for many Heart of the Greens riders to unwind, or bookend their bikepacking journey with jaunts to the village's quaint art centres and shops.

"[The loop is] a very strategic, positive thing," says MacKay. "People always want to have access to the backcountry, in a safe way, with the benediction of the community that is providing services. It's a complete win-win."

I know Vermont well and have bike-toured widely, but this is harder than I expected.

On asphalt, a 38-mile ride makes for a pleasant afternoon. The Heart of the Greens is far more demanding – and adventurous. Rugged roads lead to mountain bike trails, which scissor their way up the alpine forest.

The first day, I coast south along Route 100 and turn onto State Garage Road, into a residential area. Houses disappear beyond the canopy, and I huff up one shelf of road, then another. All at once, the road transforms into steep gravel. I grind past the Spikehorn Yurt, the Loop's first hut, a rounded fabric enclosure with bunkbeds, a futon, homey furniture and a spacious terrace with views of the mountains. The route then devolves into two dirt tyre trenches cutting through the grass – what mountain bikers call "double track". My temples pound as I climb. Summer mosquitoes drone in the sultry air.

After a couple of gruelling miles, the road finally descends, and so do the conditions. Logging lorries have shredded the ground into potting soil, my wheels sink into a mire of turned earth and broken branches. As I struggle, another cyclist pulls up behind me. 

"This is crazy, isn't it?" he wheezes. "I don't think I'd have made it if I wasn't on an e-bike." 

I can't help but agree. The grades are tough on my middle-aged thighs, and I frequently dismount and push. I got a late start to begin with, and as I reach the third major trail section of the day – a mile of switchbacks cheekily named "Perspiration" – my legs boil with lactic acid, and the Sun melts beyond the ridge. This is how I come to arrive at Chittenden Brook Campground after nightfall. I pitch my tent onto the cold ground and gaze longingly at the modern hut before me.

After a decent night's sleep, I finally hit my stride. I sail down the smooth pavement of Route 73 and pedal through the pastoral scenery of the quiet, unpaved Bingo Brook Road. Dense trees all around, I pass occasional farmhouses and cottages, but most of this land is national forest. Fog lifts over a pond, and the air is cool and quiet.

I try to imagine what the Velomont will look like in future decades. The Heart of the Greens now passes through just two village centres with a loose string of businesses straddling Route 100. As the Velomont expands, it will tether together more towns and country shops, making it easier for cyclists to resupply and interact with locals. Bikepackers will traverse ever-more-varied terrain and, like me, stop in towns they might never notice by car.

"You're camping, but you're not really camping," says Georgia Grzywacz, a Maine resident who rode the loop and stayed at the Chittenden Brook Hut in June. She appreciated the kitchen, electricity and bunk mattresses, as well as the nearby brook. "You're without running water, but you have these creature comforts." Even the booking process was easy: "The [Vermont Huts] website is so navigable."

I veer off Bingo Brook Road to find a final trailhead. Two mountains remain, totalling 12 miles (19km) and more than 2,000ft (609m) of climbing, but this time, I'm prepared. Teeth clenched, I grind my way up the switchbacks of Swan's Mill Trail, fighting for every foot of elevation.

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At last, my reward: Tunnel Ridge is a five-mile-long (8km) flow trail that snakes its way back down to Rochester, for a total of 110 switchbacks. My tyres shudder over washboard terrain and swerve around S-curves. I choke the brakes, my saddlebags bounce noisily over my rear rack. The forest becomes a wash of brown and green. Gravity lures me downward, into the valley. Endorphins flood my brain as I drift into The Stable Inn's parking lot, back to my waiting car.

I'm euphoric but exhausted. For now, I'm closing the loop. But in time, there should be many miles, and many huts, more. And I'll be ready.

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