From a beachside Lake Champlain picnic table, Brian Jessiman saw Burlington’s skyline, tree-topped Juniper Island, ledgy cliffs, chilly water, and upstate New York’s rambling Adirondacks.

“You don’t have to be in the middle of nowhere to feel like you are,” said the veteran paddling instructor following a stand-up paddleboarding lesson on sandy North Beach.

That’s the beauty of youthful and bustling Burlington, Vermont’s largest city. If you want to be in the thick of things, like shopping pedestrian Church Street or strolling the farmers’ market, then be there. But pedaling, paddling, and even camping can give you a sense of being beyond the city limits.

About two miles from downtown is often busy North Beach campground. No wilderness experience, it’s an affordable base camp with wooded lake views, WiFi-equipped tents, the chirp of birds, jubilant beach-goers, and occasional sirens.

Stay there, park for the weekend, and use a bicycle since it’s off the glorious multi-use, 13-mile Island Line Trail—a combination of the paved Burlington Bike Path and uplifting hard-pack Colchester Causeway Park that extends above the lake like a monorail with water on both sides.

Plus, it’s steps from a boathouse and an outpost for South Burlington’s Canoe Imports with its kayak and SUP rentals and lessons.

SUP is the fastest growing segment of paddlesports, and that’s where the bearded Jessiman, a ski instructor in winter living off the grid, got me from wide board wobbler to paddler in no time.

It’s all about balance. Wearing a wet suit, the lake water washed over the board reminding me of its chill. Jessiman’s instruction was basic and clear—stay flexed in ankles and knees, use your whole body and get the whole blade of the very long paddle in the water.

Gingerly at first, later using the c-style strokes he taught, we paddled by ducks and then a rocky ledge as my confidence grew. We headed for Lone Rock Point, a stark rock formation where the wind increased and water started a chop. I was nervous but followed Jessiman’s instruction, eventually turning around and traveling downwind with the gusts pushing us and experiencing a gentle surfing sensation. I could look into the water, getting lost in its sandy bottom, and then gaze up at the mountains in the comforting city cove.

On a bright Saturday, I traveled the Island Line Trail. A short, sometimes bumpy spin from the campground, the nonprofit grassroots cycling organization Local Motion has a waterfront center with bike rentals and maps.

The easy path is a social, cultural, recreational, and commuting lifeline. Dating back to 1900, the former Rutland Railroad line was a 41-mile track from Burlington to Alburgh with a trio of causeways through the lake. Abandoned in the 1960s, the first section of the bike path opened in the mid-1980s and today the well-used path with runners, walkers, in-line skaters, cyclists, and others stretches along the lake through neighborhoods, by parks, along cafes, restaurants, the Lake Champlain Community Sailing Center, promenade, benches, and interactive ECHO Lake Aquarium. The lake is home to the legendary sea monster, Champ, but I didn’t spot him.

With a city speed limit of 25 MPH, cyclists leaving the waterfront head uphill to other Burlington finds like Saturday’s engaging Burlington Farmers’ Market, held outside May through October in City Hall Park at the corner of College and St. Paul streets. With free bike parking, there’s plenty to buy from staples like cheese, vegetables, and plants to Afghan-Pakistani fare, habanero fused maple syrup and even roasted cricket trail mix, a crunchy and unusual cycling fuel.

The pulsing pedestrian Church Street Marketplace is a block away with its outdoor cafes and broad-based shopping. Bicycle hounds with a penchant for local eclectic should pedal to the Old North End’s Old Spokes Home. The new, used, and vintage bike shop contains a cool upstairs classic bike display. Owner Glenn Eames has amassed an impressive collection of classic and rare bicycles from the Civil War era to the present including velocipedes, boneshakers, and scooters. One, an 1898 Stearns Yellow Fellow, was owned by an Aberdeen, Washington cigar-smoking madam with a pet rooster who commuted by bicycle between her home and saloon. Now that’s a small city adventure.

Images by Marty Basch