Last week, in a small conference room at the town’s fire station, Whitehead placed a few sticky notes on a map to note the roads that were still too dangerous to fully open to the public. It was the start of yet another flood recovery effort in rural Vermont, a state that’s been pummeled by flood after flood in the last two years, including two last month.

The thoughts at top of mind for him and others: Why here, why now? And what are we going do?

State and local leaders are also asking tough questions about climate adaptation and what it means for the Green Mountain State. The questions span from the immediate: How to pay the cost of recovering the Vermont they knew; to the existential: Could towns be rebuilt differently, to limit flood risks, and should Vermonters retreat from the very rivers that life here has revolved around for centuries?

Across much of New England, heavy rain has become a hallmark of climate change. Vermont now experiences at least two more days of heavy precipitation per year than it did in the 1960s, most often in the summer, according to the state’s climate assessment. Annual precipitation in Vermont has increased by almost 7 inches since that time, and scientists expect the frequency and intensity of floods to increase here as climate change worsens.

It doesn’t help that Vermont, like much of northern New England, can get storms blown in from all directions due to prevailing winds and the state’s position below the jet stream, according to state climatologist Lesley-Ann Dupigny-Giroux and Globe meteorologist Ken Mahan. Nor does Vermont’s scenic topography help, with its rolling hills and mountains that easily allow water to gain power as it rushes down the slopes to meet roads, bridges, homes, and businesses in the valleys.

“Should we be doing something different, and should we be pulling back on some of this transportation infrastructure that we have?” said Beverley Wemple, director of the Water Resources Institute at the University of Vermont.

Millions of dollars were spent in Vermont on flood protections in the aftermath of Tropical Storm Irene which, in 2011, delivered 7 inches of rain. At least seven people died in Vermont and hundreds of miles of roads and bridges were damaged. In the following years, state regulators toughened standards for how to build roads, while environmental groups pushed town managers to address decrepit dams and undersized culverts.

Because of those efforts, Vermont’s infrastructure was likely better prepared this summer for floods than it was a little more than a decade ago, experts said. Still, many say that adaptation is not happening quickly enough, and in a largely rural state with more than 200 small towns managing limited budgets, floods seem to be happening faster than communities are able to recover.

“People are really starting to come to terms with the fact that we have a flood problem in this state,” said Lauren Oates, director of policy and governmental affairs for the Nature Conservancy in Vermont.

Across the state, at least 26 homes have been destroyed in Vermont so far this year in flood events and 121 suffered major damage, according to Amanda Wheeler, a spokesperson for the governor’s office who called that a “significant” number given the state’s housing shortage.

Much of that damage was inflicted by Hurricane Beryl which, in early July, caused what scientists call inundation flooding. Water pooled at the bottom of valleys like a bathtub as rivers overtopped their banks. Two people died and more than 100 were rescued.

Some St. Johnsbury residents colloquially call the Beryl event “Flood One.” Just three weeks later, “Flood Two” arrived. Flash flooding at the end of July came after heavy rainstorms left patchy destruction in their wake. (Little more than a week after that, the remnants of Hurricane Debby brought rain, wind damage, and power outages across Vermont, but flooding was limited.)

The vast majority of Vermont’s flood damage tends to occur within river corridors, but outside the floodplain, according to Oates. That means planners need to look beyond traditional flood maps to identify less obvious high-risk areas.

“If we keep building in these places, the next home you build in the river corridor is the next buyout that we, the taxpayers, have to pay for,” Oates said.

State lawmakers this year approved $45 million for hazard mitigation programs, including buyouts, according to Vermont’s emergency management agency. Lawmakers also passed legislation to prevent developers from building in very high-risk flood areas; the bill became law earlier this summer.

“[They’re] really sick of the taxpayer burden of these disasters,” Oates said of the passage of what’s called the Flood Safety Act.

Town managers and volunteers, meanwhile, are encouraging residents whose homes or businesses were destroyed to relocate by applying for federal- and state-funded buyouts, when those become available.

Retreating from the flood paths could be the best solution to prevent the devastation from happening again, said Arne Bomblies, an associate professor of civil and environmental engineering at the University of Vermont. Vermont communities ought to consider relocating homes, businesses, and roads further from rivers and outside of flood-prone areas, he said, but acknowledged that idea is “politically fraught.”

There’s also the question of where to go: Many of the towns throughout the Green Mountains and in the Northeast Kingdom are tightly nestled close to rivers because it was the flattest place to build, and because the state’s early industries relied on the power generated by dammed rivers.

“We’ve kind of built ourselves into a very rigid situation,” Bomblies said.

Vermont Governor Phil Scott requested federal disaster declarations for both storms. In a statement on Aug. 3, he wrote: “Although FEMA assistance won’t make towns and homeowners whole for the repair costs, if approved, this will help lessen their financial burden.”

Yet such a declaration is not a guarantee, and if the state is successful, the process of doling out the cash can be frustratingly slow. Some towns are just now receiving federal assistance for flooding in 2023, town managers said.

Jeremy Reed, the highway division director and chief engineer for Vermont’s Agency of Transportation, said that flooding last year caused about $200 million in damage to state-owned transportation infrastructure. Each of the 2024 storms likely caused about $15 million in transportation damage, he said, although those are rough estimates that don’t include municipal damages.

Vermont’s infrastructure planners have leaned on the state’s strong regulations governing rebuilding roads. Among the rules: drainage systems under roads need to be larger to handle more rain, roads must be elevated vertically above where water could come during a storm, bridges must be rebuilt with deeper foundations, and ditches should be lined with stone to minimize erosion.

Thanks to those efforts since 2016, Vermont now has among the best road-building standards in the country for weathering heavy precipitation, experts said.

So far, Reed said, the regulations have worked. “When we build it back to our current standards, they do withstand these flood events.”

However, while the state and municipalities have slowly chipped away at rebuilding, very few roads have actually been upgraded, said Wemple, of the University of Vermont.

Particularly hard to address are steep roads that are managed by rural towns with small budgets, she said. “It’s very expensive.”

In St. Johnsbury, the town manager knows that as well as anyone. Whitehead, a civil engineer himself, is nervous that the town’s engineers will find a bridge that has to be entirely rebuilt, which can spike the cost of repairs. “It can add up really fast,” he said.

With a town budget of about $11 million, “we’re definitely extending ourselves.”

Whitehead is banking on a federal disaster declaration. It would mean at least a partial refund from the federal government for municipal expenses, and would allow qualifying residents and businesses to apply for buyouts. He already knows of a handful of businesses and residents interested in relocating.

One house that would likely be bought out if a declaration is made is owned by Richard Boisseau, 77, and his wife, Diane, 77, who have lived in their St. Johnsbury home for 50 years.

“This has been very hard on my family,” said Diane Boisseau.

The house is likely unsafe since the foundation is compromised and the home took on so much water, Richard Boisseau said. The carport on their property also collapsed into a stream.

Diane Boisseau was a first grade teacher and feels tied to the town through former students and neighbors. But they’re one of the Vermont households that have decided to retreat. They’re going all the way to New Hampshire, where Richard Boisseau’s family gifted them a bit of property to build a new home.

To make that work, the couple will take a big chunk out of retirement savings, which upsets Diane Boisseau. The silver lining is that they’ll be closer to family. She said that her grandson, 14, is already pitching them on good spots to build and warning, of some areas, “not here, it’s wet.”

Erin Douglas can be reached at erin.douglas@globe.com. Follow her @erinmdouglas23.

On Thursday morning, Vermont native and bronze medalist Ilona Maher returned home.

The U.S. women’s rugby player and new pop culture sensation flew into the Burlington airport and was met by an eager group of family, friends and local rugby players.

But if you ask her mother, Mieneke, who was clad in a shirt sporting the Olympian’s face, it’s having all her daughters home in Burlington that’s the real cause to cheer.

“I think everybody back in the nest again is the best thing,” she said. “Having a medalist coming home is magnificent but having them all in their own beds, sleeping under, is the best thing ever.”

The same sentiment seemed to ring true for Olivia Maher, Ilona’s sister and manager.

“We’re so excited, I think I’m just going to take her phone from her and just let her detox.”

The Olympian’s had a lot to detox from. After gaining global attention as the U.S. team brought women’s rugby into the spotlight, she continued onto a media tour, which included an appearance on Late Night with Seth Meyers.

More from Vermont Public: Ilona Maher and US women’s rugby sevens team take Olympic bronze

“She’s continuing to open doors for herself but [also for] other women and women behind her,” said Olivia Maher. “You know, she plays a sport that’s not really well-known in the United States, and the way that she can continue making a living and continue doing what she loves is by being on social media and showing that she has a personality.”

Ilona Maher gained over 3.7 million Instagram followers this Olympic season. In addition to spreading body-positive messaging and lifting up women’s athleticism, she shared antics from the Olympic Village in Paris, where she’s communed with celebrities like Jason Kelce.

“She’s got two jobs, she’s a hardworking athlete and a TikTok Instagram presenter of things,” said Maher’s father Michael, who’s spent time as a Rugby coach, referee and player. “She likes doing it. It’s an outlet for her.”

While the Olympian resides in San Diego, her family still lives in Burlington, where she grew up and got her start in sports, playing basketball and softball before transitioning to rugby in high school.

For Ilona Maher’s family, it’s been a long road watching her evolve as an athlete from Burlington sidelines and stands. It’s also meant they’ve gotten to watch their daughter, niece and granddaughter come into her own.

“She came out of her cocoon and she became a butterfly,” her grandmother, Lily Beukenkamp, said.

Just weeks ago, many of Ilona Maher’s family members attended the Paris games, cheering her on in a stadium of 69,000 and in front of a television audience of millions — her biggest crowd yet.

Outside of Patrick Leahy gate 14, babies sported Ilona Maher onesies. Airport staff passed out mini American flags and, in final anticipatory moments, played the Olympic theme as the bronze medalist approached the terminal.

She was met with cheers and applause. After embracing her friends and family, she turned to address the crowd, joking, “I truly don’t know how you all got through security!”

“It’s been so cool to be out there representing Vermont and Burlington and to be one of three athletes and to bring home a medal for you all,” Ilona Maher said. “And I know, it always makes me so proud to represent a state like this. … Thank you so much for all the support and I really love it and I love Vermont. Can’t wait to be home.”

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Vermont’s Health Care Advocate says a decision by the federal government to negotiate Medicare drug prices with pharmaceutical companies could help reduce health insurance premiums.

When Congress passed the Inflation Reduction Act in 2022, it included a provision to allow Medicare to negotiate prices with the drug companies.

The Biden administration has just released the first 10 drugs under this plan, which it says will reduce costs between 40% and 80% beginning in 2026.  Another 50 drugs will be added in the coming months.

About 19,000 Vermonters use at least one of the drugs on the initial list that was announced Thursday, Peter Welch’s office said in a news release.

Michael Fisher, who is Vermont’s health care advocate, says the program could have a major impact in Vermont because lawmakers this year asked the Green Mountain Care Board to study a plan to use these negotiated prices for all consumers in the state.

“Pharmaceuticals are every year a significant factor in the costs of care,” Fisher said.

The board is expected to release its initial findings to the Legislature in January.

More from Vermont Public: Amid proposed health insurance rate hikes, Vermont businesses say health costs are slowing growth

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