From Historical Rutland: an illustrated history of Rutland, Vermont, from the granting of the charter in 1761 to 1911 by Rev. F. E. Davison, Rutland, Vt.: P.H. Brehmer, 1911, page 57:
Lake Bomoseen
Added to the mountain scenery are the numerous attractions of streams and lakes with which the locality abounds. Chief among the popular resorts of the region is Lake Bomoseen, only 15 miles distant, reached by trolley line running through the busy streets of Center and West Rutland, the more quiet streets of Castleton–home of a state normal school–Hydeville and Fair Haven, now building on to Poulttney and the picturesque Lake St. Catherine.
Lake Bomoseen is an ideal summer resort, the beautiful and romantic lake is enchantingly embowered among the hills, its shores dotted with summer cottages, modern hotels, parks and pavilions catering to the amusement seeker. A commodious steamer plies upon its peaceful bosom, its waters teem with fish, and at night electric lights gleam all along its shores, and music is wafted on every breeze, from hotel piazza and concert hall. Through the long, season this lake is the magnet that draws irresistibly, year after year, hundreds of guests from far-away cities, and daily and nightly the trolley from all surrounding towns carries its load of pleasure-seekers to this ideal summer resort.
Mountain climbing is one of the attractions of this vicinity.
The ascent of Mount Killington, only 14 miles from Rutland to the top, and the second highest peak in Vermont, has never been better described than by Mrs. Julia C. R. Dorr, of Rutland: [58]
“I purposely avoided looking back or around until I had made about half the distance. Then I dropped upon a flat stone, to take breath, and well-nigh lost it utterly, such was the sense of isolation, of dizzy height, of infinite space that overwhelmed me. The house was directly beneath my feet, and I perched in mid-air above it, while near and afar, even to the wide horizon, rolled billow after billow, like the waves of the ocean. Not billows of cloud as you may suppose; but the everlasting hills themselves, all tremulous with the purple and golden mists of sunset. On either side mountains as far as the eye could reach. The valley of the Otter Creek seemed like a narrow ribbon, through which ran a thread of silver.” Of the sunrise on this majestic peak the writer says “The east was aflame with the glory of the dawn. On the west the huge wedge-shaped shadows of Killington stretched on and on till it touched the far horizon. The upper air was crystal clear, while low wreaths of vapor curled upwards from the valleys. From north to south swept the broad Connecticut, a sheet of silver, and in the distance Lake Champlain stretched from Whitehall 130 miles to the northward. Lake George lay like a mist wreath on the horizon. Lake Bomoseen, Pine hill pond, and others of lesser note flashed and sparkled at our feet. Rutland. Castleton. Pittsford, Woodstock. and a host of others were kindling their morning fires as we gazed. Far to the north Mount Mansfield and Jay Peaks rose up majestically, with banner-like clouds floating from their summits, exchanging signals with Mount Marcy and all the mighty monarchs of the Adirondacks. Near at hand, towards the east, the rounded dome of Ascutney looked like a hillock, while Mount Kearsage loomed dimly beyond it, and, clasping hands, as it were, to complete the glorious circle, came proud Monadnock and old Greylock, Mount Anthony, Mount Equinox and Mount Dorset. But while we held our breath on this Mount of Transfiguration the sun rose up, as out of the sea, lighting the whole east with a more than earthly glory; and lo! a great rose-tinted pearl hung high in the shining heavens-Mount Washington startled us like a vision from the other world!”