Vermont's Linguistical Quirks

Don't assume you know how Vermont town names are pronounced. (Note: this is an AI-generated image to make the point)

If you've been following along here, you'll know that Vermont is a small state with a distinctly large and quirky personality. And the way Vermonters speak, name things, and carve up the landscape personify that uniqueness. From understated humor to perplexing (and arguably endearing) pronunciations of town names that have tripped up flatlanders for ages, the Green Mountain State is a treasure trove of linguistic quirks.

Read on for insights into Vermont-speak: the Vermont voice, some distinct Vermont vocabulary, Vermont's geographic vocabulary, and how to pronounce some of the state's most-often mispronounced town names. These bits of information are meant to deepen your understanding of Vermont (or confirm that you have a firm grasp of things).

The Vermont Voice

Vermont's speech patterns are rooted in New England Yankee tradition, tempered by isolation, agricultural life, and a seeming cultural suspicion of unnecessary words. The classic Vermont character is economical with language — but that economy is rich with nuance.

A-yuh

Vermonters are famous for saying as little as possible while meaning a great deal. The quintessential example is the single-syllable response "Ayuh" — a drawn-out affirmation that can mean yes, I agree, I've heard you, or I'm not going to dignify that with more of a response, depending entirely on tone and context. Think of it as Vermont's version of the uh-huh used elsewhere.

Clipped Vowels

I have also found the clipping of vowels in certain words to be prevalent among "real" Vermonters — "creek" is "crick," and "roof" may rhyme with "hoof" in rural areas.

Distinctive Vermont Vocabulary (my favorites)

• Mud season: Vermont's fifth season (between winter and spring), when dirt roads become impassable due to snow melt and ground supersaturation.

• Stick season: the stretch of time between the end of fall foliage and the arrival of snow: typically running from late October through late November or early December. Trees are bare and tourists are few and far between.

• Flatlander: anyone not from Vermont, used especially for those from southern New England, New York, and New Jersey. Not always derogatory, but never entirely complimentary. To wit, my mother was a Flatlander despite living in Vermont for over 25 years until she died (and was only considered a Vermonter after she was buried there).

• Leaf peeper: a tourist who visits in fall for the foliage. Used affectionately and with mild exasperation.

• Jeezum Crow: holy cow or oh my gosh. This old-school term is used still by "real" Vermonters (at least of a certain age) today.

• Creemee: Vermont's answer to soft-serve ice cream. But so much better. I have already written about it -- that's how good it is.

Vermont's Geographic Vocabulary -- Gaps, Gores, Grants, and Camps

Vermont's political and geographic lexicon includes several terms that confuse outsiders but are essential to understanding how the state is organized. Three of the most distinctive terms to know are gaps, gores, and grants; each describe a different kind of place with a different origin.

Gaps (& Notches)

A gap in Vermont is a low point in a ridgeline that allows passage through the Green Mountains. It is purely a physical landscape feature, not a political or administrative unit. That said, because gaps were historically the only practical routes through the mountains, they shaped settlement patterns, trade routes, and road-building. In the northern part of the state, the word notch is used for the same thing.

Notable Vermont gaps include:

• Appalachian Gap (Route 17) — one of the most dramatic mountain crossings in the state, connecting the Champlain Valley to the Mad River Valley.

• Middlebury Gap (Route 125) — a gentler crossing in the central Green Mountains, near the Robert Frost Interpretive Trail.

• Brandon Gap (Route 73) — a rugged passage through the central spine of the mountains.

• Lincoln Gap — an extremely steep, narrow road, closed for the winter on Oct. 15th every year, it connects Lincoln to Warren. Lincoln Gap Road is said to have the steepest paved mile of road in the United States.

• Smuggler's Notch (Route 108) -- narrow (single lane for part) and curvy enough that tractor trailer trucks cannot fit through, this road is closed in winter and connects Stowe and Jeffersonville. Despite many BIG signs saying that the road is closed to trucks, each year at least a few get stuck and need to be towed out. Folks have been known to bet on how long it takes for the first truck to get stuck each year after the road opens. If you are looking for a scenic drive (especially during fall foliage season), and are not operating a big truck, this drive is a beaut.

Gores

A gore is an unincorporated territory created accidentally by imprecise surveying (often as a result of difficult conditions). When towns were laid out, the boundaries didn't always meet cleanly, leaving irregular slivers of land that belonged to no town. These leftovers became gores. Gores have no municipal government, no selectboard, and typically very few or zero permanent residents. They are administered directly by the Vermont Legislature. Examples include Avery's Gore (in the Northeast Kingdom, one of the most remote parcels in the state) and Buel's Gore (a tiny area between the towns of Huntington and Starksboro, with maybe a handful of residents).

Grants

A grant is an unincorporated territory that was deliberately conveyed by government authority (either by New Hampshire's colonial governor Benning Wentworth or later by Vermont's own legislature) to a group of proprietors, often as a reward for military service or to encourage settlement. Unlike a gore, a grant was never an accident; it was an intentional political act. However, if the grantees never organized into a proper town, the grant may persist today as an unincorporated territory administered by the state, much like a gore. Examples include Warner's Grant (in the Northeast Kingdom) and Ferdinand, which became an unincorporated town (also in the Northeast Kingdom).

Camps

While in most of the United States, a camp is a temporary outdoor facility (think: summer camp, campsite, military camp), in Vermont camp means something entirely different. It is a private seasonal or recreational property, typically a cabin or cottage on a lake, pond, or in the woods. What a Vermonter calls their camp, a New Yorker would call a cabin, a cottage, or a lake house. The word carries a deliberately modest connotation -- even quite luxurious properties are called camps, because claiming otherwise would seem boastful. Saying "we're going up to camp" is a complete and perfectly understood sentence in Vermont; no further description is needed or expected.

How to Say Town Names Correctly

The pronunciation of some of Vermont's town names can be a minefield for the uninitiated. Many of these town names derive from French and Abenaki, but have been thoroughly "Vermonted" (Vermonticized?) over the centuries.

Here are the town names most-often mispronounced. (You're welcome.)

• Barre — BAIR-ee (two syllables, rhymes with "hairy"). NOT bar. The granite city is insistent on this point.

• Berlin — BUR-lin. Not like the German city, Ber-LIN

• Calais — KAL-us (rhymes with "Alice"). NOT kah-LAY as in the French port city. Mispronounce it and everyone knows you're not a local.

• Charlotte — shar-LOT. NOT SHAR-lut as in Charlotte, North Carolina.

• Groton — GROT-un. NOT groh-TAHN.

• Lamoille — luh-MOYL. A common mispronunciation is luh-moy-EE.

• Memphremagog (Lake) — mem-fruh-MAY-gog. A lake straddling Vermont and Quebec. Stress falls on the third syllable. This took some practice for me to get right, lol!

• Missisquoi — mih-SIS-kwoy. Name of a river, bay, and Abenaki nation. Often mispronounced mis-ih-SKWEE.

• Montpelier — mont-PEEL-yer. NOT mont-pel-YAY as in the French city. Vermont's capital has been thoroughly Americanized.

• Pawlet — PAW-let. Two clear syllables, with emphasis on the first. NOT paw-LET.

• Vergennes — ver-JENZ. The final S is pronounced with a Z sound. NOT ver-JEN as a French speaker might say it.

A Final Word

Vermont's linguistic quirks are markers of identity, history, and community. When a Vermonter pronounces Calais as "KAL-us," says "Barre" with two syllables, or uses the word "gore" appropriately, they are participating in a living tradition that connects them to the state's colonial past, its Abenaki heritage, its French-Canadian neighbors, and its distinctly independent character. For flatlanders and visitors alike, learning to speak Vermontese is one of the best ways to begin understanding a place that has always done things its own way, on its own schedule, and with as few words as strictly necessary.