Our Family’s Time at Tyler Place, Vermont
The lake was unusually quiet that afternoon.
The water barely moved. Leaves framed the shoreline, and for a moment, everything slowed down — the noise, the schedule, even my thoughts. It felt hard to believe that just an hour earlier, we had all been running, biking, cheering, and laughing our way through the Duckthon.
That quiet moment by the lake ended up being one of my favorite memories from the week. It was the pause after the excitement — the moment when I realized how much had already happened, and how quickly the week was going.
Rewinding to the Beginning
We spent a full week at Tyler Place Family Resort in northern Vermont. It’s one of those places people describe as “easy,” but you don’t really understand what that means until you’re there. Meals are planned. Activities are scheduled. Kids have their own world, and parents are quietly given permission to rest.
The resort runs Saturday to Saturday, which means you arrive with a group of strangers and leave with a group of familiar faces. By midweek, kids are calling out names across the dining room, and parents are nodding hello like they’ve known each other longer than a few days.
We had first discovered Tyler Place years ago, when our daughter was still a baby and we were searching for a vacation that might actually work with a child. COVID delayed that plan, and by the time we finally went this year, it felt like the timing was exactly right — even if we didn’t know that yet.
✈️ Getting There, and Settling In
We flew into Burlington and took a car to the resort, about an hour away. Next time, we might drive — possibly through Montréal — just to stretch the trip a bit and bring our own bikes. The bikes at Tyler Place are great for getting around, but they’re all single-speed, and some of the longer rides made us miss our own.
We stayed in the Main Inn, which turned out to be perfect. Our room was comfortable and practical, with a clever layout that gave our little one her own space while keeping everything close. It was also centrally located — close to meals, indoor activities, and everything else we seemed to need, especially on cooler days.
Early June in Vermont surprised us. The first day was cold and rainy, the kind of cold that makes you layer sweatshirts and still feel chilled. Families from warmer states clearly weren’t expecting it. But by midweek, summer arrived properly — sunny, warm, and perfect for lake days.
🍽 The Food (My Favorite Part!)
Food became one of the quiet highlights of the week.
Every meal felt intentional. Dinner themes changed daily — lobster night, steak, lamb, crab — but what stood out most to me wasn’t the seafood or meat. It was the vegetables. Fresh salads. Simple vegetable dishes with real flavor. The kind of food that tells you the kitchen actually cares.
I had the freshest cucumber ever.
Dessert was generous, sometimes too generous. I wanted to try everything, which meant convincing my husband to split desserts with me so I could justify getting more than one. Local ice cream appeared regularly, and somehow, it always felt earned.
🎒 Camp Drop-Offs: The Hardest Part of the Day
Kids’ camp runs in the morning and evening, with afternoons reserved for family time. Children are grouped by age, and the structure stays consistent all week.
Our little one struggled with drop-off — every single morning.
She cried. She held onto me. She said, more than once,
“Can you please not sign me up for this summer camp anymore?”
And every single afternoon, when we picked her up, she was happy. Talking nonstop. Running around with her new friends. Completely absorbed in whatever she had just done.
By the last day, the script flipped.
When I went to pick her up, she asked,
“When are we coming back?”
When I said, “Next year,” she immediately started announcing it to everyone nearby — kids and parents alike.
“We’re coming back next year!”
That was the moment I knew the week had worked.
🧒 Kids’ Camp, Through Her Eyes
The activities were exactly what you’d hope for: nature walks, crafts, pirate adventures, fishing, swimming, obstacle courses, gardening, climbing, and plenty of imaginative play. Older kids had archery, inflatable lake structures, and banana boats.
Our little one loved the pool parties, obstacle courses, and anything involving costumes. The kind of joy that carries over into bedtime conversations, long after the day is done.
🧘♀️ What the Adults Did While the Kids Were Busy
With the kids in camp, parents had choices — and that felt like a gift.
Some mornings were active: sailing lessons, kayaking, biking, skeet shooting. Other mornings were quiet: coffee by the lake, a book half-read, conversations that didn’t have to pause every thirty seconds.
In the evenings, before picking kids up at 8:30, adults gathered naturally — at the bar, around dartboards, or at the puzzle tables set up throughout the lobby. People worked on puzzles in small bursts, leaving pieces for strangers to finish the next day. My husband loved that part. We stopped by almost every night to add a few pieces before moving on.
I’m not naturally social, but I made myself sit with different families at meals. It was awkward at first. Then it wasn’t. People opened up easily — about kids, work, life — perhaps because everyone was already sharing the same unusual week.
One thing we kept wishing we had brought was our Motorola walkie-talkie radios. We use them a lot during orienteering and adventure races. They would have been surprisingly useful here. There’s very little cell reception around the resort, and for families splitting up or trying to coordinate pickup times, radios would have made things much easier.
👨👩👧 The Duckthon, and a Tiny Trophy
One afternoon brought the Duckthon, a lighthearted triathlon-style event where families could swim or kayak, bike, and run — together or as a relay.
We did it as a relay. I kayaked. My husband and our little one biked on a tandem. I ran the final leg when she ran out of energy.
Kids made finish lines out of toilet paper. Everyone cheered. No one cared about time.
At the end, every finisher received a small rubber duck — the official Duckthon “medal.” We wore ours proudly to dinner that night. It turned out to be the perfect conversation starter.
After the race, we walked down to the lake. That’s when everything went quiet again — the moment the week finally caught up with me.
⛵ Sailing a Little Too Far
Earlier in the week, we took a sailing class. One afternoon, during family time, we decided to try sailing again — this time with our little one.
The wind carried us north, farther than we expected, toward the Canada–U.S. border, marked only by a buoy in the middle of the lake. There were no flags. Just a sign reminding you to carry a passport.
The trip out was smooth and fast. The trip back was not.
The wind shifted. The sky darkened. We zigzagged, learning quickly how much harder it is to sail against the wind. I gave my sweatshirt to our little one when she got cold.
Eventually, the dock crew came to find us and towed us back. We were grateful — and a little humbled.
Later, we learned that another couple had once taken three hours to make the same return. Looking back, it probably wasn’t the best idea with a small child. But it’s one of those stories that stays with you.
🚗 Leaving, in a Different Kind of Quiet
Saturday morning was surprisingly quiet.
Many families had already left early to catch flights, and the energy around the resort had shifted. It felt like the pause between two breaths. For the first time all week, we sent our little one to breakfast on her own — eating with her friends, saying goodbye in her own way. It felt like a small but meaningful milestone.
Around the property, the camp crew was already busy again. Yard work. Cleaning. Resetting rooms. Getting everything ready for the next group of families arriving that afternoon. The place wasn’t winding down — it was simply turning over, preparing to be full again in just a few hours.
At the airport, we began to see familiar faces from the week. Our little one spotted them immediately, pointing across the terminal and announcing, with complete confidence,
“That’s my friend.”
Again and again.
We also saw new families arriving — kids holding onto parents, luggage rolling behind them. I knew right away: they were the next week’s families. The same week we had just lived, about to begin again for someone else.
It was an oddly comforting feeling — knowing that while our week had ended, the rhythm continued.
💬 Final Thoughts
This isn’t the kind of vacation where you plan every detail. And it’s not the kind where you spend every waking hour with your child, either. It works best for families who are ready to let go a little — to trust the structure, to let kids build their own small worlds, and to give parents space to breathe.
I wish we had come earlier.
For families with younger kids, especially those who are still figuring out independence, this place feels almost perfectly timed. Camp gives children room to grow, and it gives parents a break at a stage when breaks can feel rare. As kids get older, I imagine we might choose different kinds of trips — exploring new countries, wandering cities, letting them lead more of the journey. And yet, parenting has a funny way of circling back on itself. When kids are little and demanding, you wish they’d grow up faster. When they do grow up, teenagers bring their own challenges — and parents may find themselves needing a different kind of break all over again. Maybe places like this still make sense then too. Who knows.
What I do know is that, for this moment in our lives, this week felt exactly right.