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Our time in New Hampshire was spent in the north country, “North of the Notches” as they say. We settled into an RV park just outside of Gorham. Gorham is a small crossroads town; two highways meet here, the train trundles through several times a day, the Appalachian Trail meanders near town and the wide Androscoggin River flows by on its way to the Atlantic Ocean.

While we can’t speak for southern New Hampshire, we felt the northern area was inspirational and as we discovered, we weren’t the only ones who felt that way. Robert Frost lived and wrote poems in Franconia for many years, Eleanor Hodgman Porter, who authored Pollyanna, was born in Littleton, Margaret and H.A. Rey, creators of Curious George, had a seasonal home in the Waterville Valley, Mary Baker Eddy, founder of Christian Science, lived up here in the 1860s, Thomas Cole and Benjamin Champney both painted the dramatic scenery and several of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s stories were inspired by the area.

Every evening we took a trail from our RV park across the railroad tracks down to the banks of the Androscoggin. An Abenaki word, it roughly means “the fishing place” but we weren’t looking for fish. We were hoping to glimpse a Moose feeding in the still backwaters or marshes near the river. No such luck, although we did see a flock of Wild Turkeys fly across river.

Determined to see a Moose somewhere in the wilds of New England we signed up for a Moose tour. Our small tour bus was packed with enthusiastic fellow “moosers”. Our guide, Sarah, was not only informative but entertaining. We really got a kick out of her because she reminded us so much of our good friend Maryann: similar build, same laugh. Honestly, they could be twins! Sarah is as passionate about Moose as Maryann is the Grateful Dead.

For the first part of our tour the road followed the Androscoggin River. Sarah explained that the small man-made islands in the center of the river were boom piers built by timber companies in the late 1800s. Since there were two competing mills in the town of Berlin (pr. BURR-lin), and they both used the same river to float their logs, the river was divided in half. The most dangerous job at the time, even more dangerous than felling trees, was working on the boom piers. The men out there were responsible for keeping the logs moving, breaking up logjams and sorting the logs. Back then if a man fell in, it would’ve been impossible for him to resurface through all the logs and if by some stroke of luck he did, he would’ve been crushed by the force of the logs.

The last log run on the Androscoggin was in 1960. The huge old mills in Berlin are being torn down and the boom piers now offer tiny island homes to various wildlife. The river has recovered from human abuse just as the Moose population is recovering from human pressure. At one time Moose were almost eliminated from New England but now the large beasts are plentiful. Perhaps a bit too plentiful as there are over 200 Moose-related vehicle collisions every year in New Hampshire. In 1988, in an effort to curb the population, the state opened a Moose hunting season which runs for nine days in October.

Sarah, who bragged that she had never lived further than ten miles from the Androscoggin, told us about a special North Woods treat called poutine (pronounced like “puts in”). Poutine is a dish made of hand-cut fries sprinkled with cheese curds and smothered with hot, brown gravy. Sarah swears this “heart attack in a dish” takes the chill out of the coldest winter day. Needless to say, we have yet to try it. (Check out the full recipe).

We traveled slowly along Highway 16, aka Moose Alley, where a well-trodden Moose trail parallels the road. We were fortunate to spot a big bull Moose, he was immense! Later we saw several individual females. One of the females tried to hide by standing behind a scrawny twig of a tree. Sarah explained that Moose have poor eyesight. So apparently, since the Moose could no longer see us she thought we couldn’t see her. It was quite comical! All told we spotted five Moose that night, although two of them were quite far off in the distance.

Earlier in the day we took a tour up Mount Washington. The mountain was amazing. When we left our RV it was sunny and 71 degrees; at the summit it was 58 degrees with 44 mph winds! And that’s nothing compared to what the weather can be like up there. In the small museum we watched a hysterical video filmed by staff at the weather observatory on the mountain. A man, all bundled up in parka and gloves, attempted to eat breakfast at a table outside on the deck. As he poured his cereal it was immediately whisked away by the wind. Then he poured his milk. The milk was whipped away as soon as it reached the opening of the container, creating a long, white stream floating in the air like a kite tail. The fierce wind soon stripped everything off his table, including spoon and bowl. Seconds later, the table was blown away and the man staggered toward the door.

It is so windy up there that the buildings are actually chained to the mountaintop. Did I mention it gets cold up there? The top of Mount Washington has recorded snowfall every month of the year. Of course, the snow is immediately blown right off—but you get my drift.

The Mount Washington Auto Road still follows the route of the first road which opened in 1861 as a carriage trail. It took six horses over four hours to pull a “mountain wagon” up the eight mile road! In 1899 a Stanley Steamer was the first car to make the journey. Since then races have evolved by those eager to conquer the road. Several days a year the road is closed to automobiles so that groups of very different but equally insane racers try their luck. The fastest runner clocked in at 56 minutes, the fastest cyclist at 49 minutes and the fastest car took a mere six minutes to reach the top. Thankfully, our driver was not interested in breaking any records.

In fact, our driver was the best part of the whole tour since he is Lance’s cousin. After our tour Rich showed us around the place he has called home for the past 23 years. At the foot of Mount Washington with several other peaks in the Presidential Range looking over the valley, it was easy for Lance and I to see why Rich has stayed here all those years—its beautiful. Rich even leads tours in the winter, driving a specially designed snowcoach. He claims the best views from the top are in December and January because it is clear up there and you can see all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. We’ll take his word for it!

The next day we stopped in at the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Information Center at Pinkham Notch. Up here the term notch describes narrow mountain passes. Some of them are so narrow only hikers can traverse them while others are wide enough for highways. From the Center we hiked down to the Glen Ellis Falls on the Appalachian Trail. It wasn’t far but it was interesting to be on the famous AT. I was surprised by the huge boulders and difficult terrain along the trail, it would have been miserable with a large pack on. I guess I figured that after all these years such a well-traveled trail would be more tame.

This rugged and sometimes isolated north country has no shortage of interesting stories. While in the Pinkham Notch area we learned about Dolly and Hayes Copp who had settled in the area in the 1830s. On their 50th anniversary Dolly said, “Fifty years is long enough to live with any man.” Then she up and moved to Maine. Over by Crawford Notch lived the Willey family. In 1826 torrential rain triggered an avalanche near their home, so the Willeys left their house in an attempt to escape. Unfortunately, the landslide spared their home but swept them away and killed them. The tragic event was told all over New England; Nathaniel Hawthorne even wrote a short story about it called The Ambitious Guest.

Back on the road, we drove the Kancamagus Highway from Conway to Lincoln. The Kanc, as the locals call it, is listed as a National Scenic Byway and boy is it ever. The road winds through the White Mountain National Forest following the Swift River east of Kancamagus Pass and the East Branch of the Pemigewasset River on the west side. We took advantage of the clear, cool flowing water on our hot afternoon. The water felt so good! We didn’t see any fish but there was a man fly-fishing so there must be fish in the river. It was an amazing way to spend our last day in New Hampshire. By nightfall we were in Vermont.

Photos: View our photographs from New Hampshire.

Recipe: If you are brave enough, and it’s cold out, try the Poutine recipe.

Notes: We stayed in New Hampshire from 08/19/07 to 08/25/07.