Franconia and Franconia Notch

In New England terms Franconia is a relatively 'new' town.  It was founded because it was a flat spot.  In 1772 a couple of families decided they could actually farm here since everything else they found in these Northern White Mountains was on a steep angle.  The other necessary ingredient of water was supplied by the Gale River, a 13 mile tributary of the Ammonusac River which is part of the Connecticut River watershed.  The Gale River is a county road, the Ammonusac River is a state road, and the Connecticut River is an interstate highway.  All pre-civil war commerce used the rivers to get goods to market.  Of course, the coming of the railroads changed all of that.  The railroads also snuffed out the reason Franconia became something other than a flat place you could plant crops.

Franconia was a poster child of early industrialization in the United States.  In 1805 an iron ore smelting furnace was developed here.  There was lots of iron ore, the Gale River for power, and the river highway system to get the iron to markets.  Today you can see what's left:  a large 30 foot stone tower composed of fitted together granite blocks with an interior brick furnace and chimney.  Iron ore was carted (by hand in big iron carts) to the furnace and the iron was separated from the slag (refers to anything with the ore that wasn't iron) by heating it in the furnace with a charcoal fire.  Then, the purified iron was periodically drained out of the furnace into bars.  The newly made iron bars were shipped out via the rivers to iron customers, or manufactured into Franconia Stoves in Franconia.  This business venture was so successful that the entire town of Franconia relocated a couple of miles to its present location.  The remains (the stone tower around the furnace) is almost in the center of present day Franconia.  This was a thriving business venture until 1865.  What killed it?  The railroads.  The infant steel/iron industry in Pennsylvania had a larger population, bigger furnaces and the railroad to ship its product.  Franconia iron production died at the end of the Civil War.

I'm sure survival of this town was touch and go between the end of the Civil War and the beginning of the 20th century.  Not only would there have been quite a few Franconian young men killed or maimed in the Civil War, but farming was the only way to make a living until the nascent timber industry rediscovered the Gale River as a way to get the lumber closer to markets in the last part of the 19th century.  But what really kept this town alive was the discovery of the excellent skiing in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  Since the 1880's Franconians have been eking out a living on the tourists.  This place looks idyllic, but according to the doctor I saw last week, there's a lot of poverty in this area.  It's easy to understand.  When you step back and look at this gorgeous place, there's nothing here besides a few run down farms, and everything else is services for the tourists.  Beauty doesn't buy food, or shoes, or heat in the winter. 

That brings us to Franconia Notch State Park.  First the 'notch' is an 8 mile low spot that connects two mountain ranges in the White Mountains.  The state park WAS home to The Old Man in the Mountain - a granite formation on the side of one of the mountains here which looked like an old man and whose profile became a symbol of New Hampshire.  The 'profile' is still on all state highway road signs.  Unfortunately, even though shoring up attempts were made, this formation collapsed in 2003.  Now, we have homage to something that doesn't exist anymore.  One of the existing attractions at the Park is the Cannon Mountain Ski Resort, a state owned ski resort founded in the 1930's that contains one of the most challenging ski hills in New England.  It was also the place Bode Miller first learned to ski.  Today we took the aerial tram (the first in North America) up to the top of Cannon Mountain and took in the view which was spectacular and was 15 degrees cooler than at the base.  You can see into Vermont from the top of the mountain.             There's also a hiking path around the top of the mountain which was fun.  Here we are looking at the view.

When we came down the mountain - don't you just love aerial trams - this is also the home of the New England Ski Museum.  Don't get excited, this is a tiny little building which has one interesting thing in it:  Bode Miller's Olympic medals.  Since we had never actually seen an Olympic medal, it was startling to see them here.  He has given all his medals to this museum for display.  We got to see three silver medals, one gold and one bronze.  I was surprised to see that one of his medals was actually pretty scratched up.  Maybe it made the rounds of a post event party.  That's what it looks like.  The rest of the museum was quaint, that's the only word for it, but of course, I liked it.  I'm sure Drake was just glad it was SMALL and an ice cream break accompanied the visit.  

Finally, the pictures that accompany this entry have some pictures of the July 4th celebration in Franconia, as well as pictures of sunsets taken from our house up here, and a couple of pictures of our cluttered living room.  Enjoy them all.

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireFranconiaAndFranconiaNotch?authkey=Gv1sRgCM-P0Oz0hPiF7gE#   

Rocks, Rocks, and more Rocks

Every restaurant, park, tourist attraction, store, and any other place people walk into has a 'rack'.  In the rack are all the places you can  spend money, look at, ride on, canoe down, hike over, eat at, attend, or stay.  Examples are:  the mall outlets at Conway, Franconia Notch State Park, Six Gun City, Whale Tail Water Park, The Cheese Store,  The Saco River, and "Bob and Betty's B & B".  (Those poor souls who thought it would be 'fun' to own a B & B.  Can you imagine anything worse than having to clean up after and put up with whining people on vacation?  I always imagine that Bob and Betty tipple quite a bit in the evening.)  Anyway, back to the 'rack'.  It's filled with brochures and pamphlets as well as glossy magazines and newspapers.  Well, a few days ago, I spotted a brochure entitled "Ruggles Mine - Pick up and KEEP any rocks you find!" 

Everyone knows I like rocks.  I take a lot of behind my back snickering because of this hobby.  How many people have been to my house and seen the pile of rocks on the teak board next to the fireplace?  Only about 500 of you.  And at least 50 of you have dabbled with rearranging those rocks into patterns or sculptures.  If there's one thing I learned yesterday at the obsessive collection known as the Fairbanks Museum, it's that collections need additions.  I always pick up rocks wherever we go, and you know, that makes Drake so very, very HAPPY.   He just loves lugging them around. Can you believe he actually rolls his eyes when he sees another rock in my hand? 

When I saw there was a place where you could actually go pick up interesting rocks and keep them, I just had to go.  I didn't expect we would have to drive 150 miles (as least that was round trip), or that the last 5 miles would be straight up a mountain at 15 mph (at least it was a short mountain), or that it would cost a lot of money for both of us to get into the mine to get the rocks (at least they were free), or that I would fall off a rock while trying to sit down on it and scrape my hand so it was bleeding for the last 15 minutes of the rock collection time.

 It was just WONDERFUL.  When we arrived and started walking into the mine, the ground was glittering.  It was so bright when you looked down, you needed sunglasses.  The reason for all this shining is this was primarily a mica mine.  The deposits were discovered by the farmer whose land it was on in 1803.  He started mining it secretly, consigning it to English agents and sending it to England to sell.  He kept the mine a secret for several years because he didn't want to have to fight off his neighbors.  Apparently in the 19th century mica was a prized mineral - it was used in whale oil lamps and stove windows.  In addition to mica, there is beryl, quartz, and a bunch of other minerals including garnets and tourmaline.  The mine was in continuous operation from 1803 until 1959.

Now it's this terrific attraction.  You can even get mineral hammers and bang around on the walls and on any rock lying around.  You get to keep anything you find.  I was very modest.  I only brought out about 25 very small rocks.  According to Drake, I brought out 25 huge boulders.  WRONG, WRONG, WRONG - he's just exaggerating.    

I guess some people would have found me funny walking around with my nose to the ground and butt in the air, but how else are you going to spot the good ones?    I really did fall off a rock when I tried to sit on it next to a little stream.  It was a really small rock - only about 10 inches high, and I just missed it when I tried to sit down on it.  Of course, I managed to fall into one of the few wet and muddy spots in the whole mine.  My hand only bled a little bit for the last part of my collection time, and at least I only got my shorts dirty and didn't tear them.  This is a real happy outcome - since I'm usually really clutzy and wind up with small disasters worse than this one routinely happening to me.  Even this little hiccup couldn't dim my happiness during this outing. 

This was so much fun.  You couldn't believe how many interesting rocks there were.  So many of them have been compressed together into interesting forms - mica sprouting out of white quartz, or two toned quartz, and slabs of shiny mica - pure and mixed together with other stones everywhere.  The gift shop was fun too.  I got a new necklace - a piece of rose quartz polished, cut and faceted.  This came out of the mine.  Isn't that great!  To top it off, the weather was perfect - warm and sunny without being hot. 

Drake's perspective is somewhat different:  $100 to get in.  150 miles of driving.  $40 worth of gas.  $15 for another piece of jewelry.  An afternoon sitting around looking at my butt as I picked up rocks.  He calculates that my free rocks only cost $8.20 each.  My answer:  What a bargain.  I got a refreshed collection, and everyone knows that's PRICELESS.  

Look at the pix and see if you agree:              https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireTour4RugglesMine?authkey=Gv1sRgCOjz95KBxavKqAE#

Stepping Back into the Nineteenth Century

Today we took a trip to St. Johnsbury, Vermont.  It was a time warp.  The entire town is pretty much frozen in the 19th century.  There is Edwardian and Victorian architecture everywhere from commercial buildings, to churches to private homes. 

Thadeus Fairbanks invented the platform scale, and those scales are still manufactured here.  (Those scales at the exercise club or the old ones in the doctor's office are examples of platform scales.)  His family made tons of $$$$ which they used to improve St. Johnsbury.  His grandson, Erastus, expanded the company, and was also governor of Vermont during the Civil War.  Erastus' son was an Edwardian collector - an amateur natural scientist.  he built a museum, endowed it, and donated his collection to fill it.  Today, it houses not only his collection, but also a weather forecasting center, a planetarium, a photographic art gallery for nature pictures, and a science center for kids.  The pictures tell the story today:

https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011VermontTour1StJohnsbury?authkey=Gv1sRgCJSI2fenpqCypQE#

Music and Scenery

We have had two wonderful experiences up here.  One is cultural and the other scenic.  New Hampshire has taken advantage of it's proximity to some of the greatest musicians in the world.  The organization called the North Country Chambers Players created the White Mountain Music Festival about twenty years ago.  The nucleus of the musicians who perform during the festival include musicians from the New York Philharmonic, faculty members of Columbia University, and Wesleyan University as well as several other major universities.  They record music on their own and with others.  They have film and television credits, and they compose.  Let's just say, these folks know their stuff, and when you hear them play, it's obvious.  They come to New Hampshire each summer, and have organized this festival.  This event is supported by corporate sponsors as well as regular people.  You can get your name in the program for as little as a $25 contribution.  Everyone we talked to is very proud of this festival.

Even if you aren't a giant classical music fan, you get to appreciate the amount of effort it takes to play an instrument at the highest level.  These concerts are held in community buildings, on slightly raised stages.  The chairs are folding chairs (padded, thank heaven!), and they are set up about 20 feet from the musicians.  In addition to the regular group of musicians, special guests are invited.  Last Saturday night we heard an up and coming young celloist, Michael Nicolas.   He was about 25, and when he played, it was electrifying.

These types of festivals allow people who don't have $200 to buy a ticket to a major concert venue, or the resources to travel to one access to amazing music.  You can't even use the excuse "I don't have anything to wear".  You can wear anything from your Bermuda shorts and flip flops to your cool summer dress and sandals.  I didn't see a single tie or pair of hose anywhere.  Good thing - we were in the last day of the 'heat wave', and there's no air conditioning in these venues.  It takes about 10 minutes to get to the Sugar Hill Community Meeting Room from anywhere in the area.  The tickets are $20 unless you are college age or younger - then you get in for free.  They toss in the cookies and punch on the lawn after the concert as a lagniappe.  (For you non-New Orleanians, that's a little something for free.)  It's obvious that these musicians have become friends and neighbors to many in this community. 

Each Saturday night, there is a musical theme.  The concert we attended was called "Dinner in Paris" and the music was from all French composers: Debussy, Milhaud, Francaix and Ravel.  Next week the theme is "Summer Romance" and includes Schubert.  We have reservations at the Sugar Hill Inn (supposed to be an amazing restaurant) prior to the next concert.  I've discovered there is entertainment up here, but you have to look for it.  Bethlehem is giving free concerts at their gazebo each Sunday night.  There's a small theater that shows interesting independent films.  Wednesday is 2 for 1 day!  We have just started to scratch the surface as to what is available here.

One of the reasons we have been so slow off the mark here is my fault.  I'm finding it very difficult to walk for any time at all without pain zooming up to a level I can't handle.  I just trashed my foot in New York City.  I spent 30 days walking almost non-stop on concrete for several hours a day.  When I finallly got to the chalet in New Hampshire, it just all caught up with me.  I've been resting my foot until yesterday when we decided to go look at some famous scenery.

We went to the Franconia Notch State Park to their premiere attraction:  The Flume Gorge.  This is a granite canyon formed during the age of the glaciers.  It was filled millions of years ago with basalt which gradually over the eons wore away leaving the granite gorge.  The walls are 80 feet high of solid granite.  The Pemigawasset River (stream, really) runs through it, and in places the gorge is only about 10 feet wide.  Small sparkling waterfalls spill over granite in 20 foot to 2 inch drops over the length of the gorge.  It was impressive and beautiful.  It's about a 2 mile scenic walk from the visitor's center to the Flume Gorge. 

It was certainly worth the effort, but this simple walk took a toll on my idiot foot.  Today, I made an appointment with an orthopedist because I want an x-ray to make sure that the necrosis that melted a joint isn't back.  Prayers would be appreciated.

As always, here are the pictures: https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireTour3FranconiaNotch?authkey=Gv1sRgCKCovp3Yq6S3MA#              

Escaping the Heat Wave - Cog Rail Up to Mount Washington

We've been waiting for the intersection of a hot day that was also sunny.  First, I realize that 'hot' is relative compared to the rest of the country right now; however, remember:  there's no air conditioning in this part of the USA.  Only a/c is at Walmart, the grocery store, and the movie theater.  Most stores and restaurants and even the libraries aren't air conditioned.  When the temp climbs past 85 and the humidity goes over 50%, believe me, it's hot.  "Sunny" isn't all that easy to come by here either. There are lots and lots of clouds and a hazy fog that hangs around sometimes until late afternoon.   The coolest place (on many levels) in this region is the summit of Mount Washington, the crown jewel of the Presidential Range of the northern Appalachian Mountains - known as the White Mountains in New Hampshire. 

The reason Mount Washington is cool is because it's 6,288 feet in elevation, and in the summer it's 25 degrees cooler at the summit than at the base.  It reminds me of the temperature difference between Phoenix and Flagstaff.  It takes a 70 mile drive to achieve the temperature drop between those two cities, but only 3600 feet to achieve the cool temp at Mount Washington.  There are three ways to get to the summit from the base (which has an elevation of 2700 feet).  You can drive the Mount Washington Road - which has a 13% grade - and twists like a big snake up the mountain, you can hike up the mountain, or you can be cool and take the Cog Railway. 

The Cog Railway was built in the 19th century right after the Civil War - it opened for business in 1869.  Now, this isn't a normal railroad because the grade isn't gradual, it's at a 37.5% incline.  At the zenith of the incline, we stood up inside the rail car, and we were standing at a 37.5% angle from the floor.  You understand the concept of gravity like never before.  The trees actually look like they are leaning, but it's an optical illusion - we were the ones leaning, not the trees.  The tracks are normal tracks with the exception that there is a center rail full of holes that a cog fits into.  The engine actually pushes the car up or down the mountain one hole at a time.  Here's a pic of a 'used' cog - you get the idea.

Prior to our thrilling rail trip (it takes 40 minutes to go up 3600 feet) - there are no speed records being broken here, we stopped for lunch at the Mount Washington Hotel.  I heard this described as a land locked Titanic, and that's a pretty apt description.  This hotel opened in 1902, and it was the largest wood building in New England at that time.  This was the resort to end all resorts, and it still it.  What a lovely place.  We had lunch on the Veranda.  While we sipped lemonade, we enjoyed the superb view and even better people watching.  This was so languorous and relaxing, it was tempting to blow off the summit trip.  We persevered, levered ourselves out of those cushion padded white wicker chairs and went on our way.

The summit is known for the ferocious winds that blow up there.  In fact the highest wind ever recorded (231 mph) was on the summit of Mount Washington.  Today, the temperature was a mild 60 degrees, but the wind was blowing steadily at 40 mph with gusts to 50 mph.  It was dangerous to walk close to the 'edge' of anything.  But walk people do - the summit is on the Appalachian Trail which is a hiking trail that traverses the length of the Appalachians from Georgia to Maine.  There are cairns built that guide people along the trail at the top of Mount Washington. 

This has been a popular spot for more than a century.  In the 19th century, there was actually a hotel at the summit - The Tip Top House.  I think 'hotel' is stretching it since the 'bedrooms' are very primitive versions of the capsule Japanese hotel rooms or a more accurate comparison are the community berths on long distance trains that the 1930's movies are so fond of showing us - think of the rail scenes from Some Like it Hot or White Christmas.  Today there's a canteen type restaurant, a gift shop (naturally), a post office (Sarah's getting a post card), and a serious weather observatory. 

As always, the rocks and vegetation are very unique to a summit at this elevation with those winds.  I got a real sense today of how old these mountains are.  They seem elderly, but still regal.  Today I understood that these treacherous mountains had to be reckoned with by the early settlers in the 18th century.  They can be killers with their roaring winter storms.  There were crosses close to the top commemorating people who the weather on this mountain has killed.  According to the conductor/guide, Mount Washington weather has killed more people than Mount Everest weather.   These mountains were so difficult to traverse and the winters so harsh that there was virtually no settlement in northern New Hampshire.  Frankly, there's still not much.  The sparseness of people is so evident.  You can drive through miles and miles of forest as far as you can see (or even penetrate) and not see a soul.

We finished out our day with ice cream at Rendell's which has just been named one of the top ten places to eat ice cream in northern New England.  I could have told them that.  Best ice cream I've eaten since the Lopez Island Creamery.  I actually think Rendell's edges out that excellent Washington State offering.  Just to whet your taste buds:  Today I had chocolate mint.  Now their version is creamy chocolate ice cream with slivers of mint and slivers of dark chocolate.  Divine.

As always, there are pictures:
  https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireTour2MtWashingtonCogRailroad?authkey=Gv1sRgCPiVi7-Ohan54QE#

Kancamagus Highway - New Hampshire's National Scenic Byway

We haven't exactly been touring up here because this place we've landed is so conducive to relaxation.  However, we have also been part of the national heatwave, OK, up here the warmwave, so we decided to abandon the warmish house (no AC up here) for an afternoon's tour.  We live within a couple of miles of the Kancamagus Highway which is a two lane road that traverses East/West through the White Mountains.  It's New Hampshire's only National Scenic Byway.  I got curious as to why it's called a 'byway', and I've discovered that byway has the specific meaning of a little traveled road.  This byway is 34 miles long, no houses, restaurants, gas stations, or tourist attractions built prior to 1800,  and is a straight shot across the White Mountains utilizing the Franconia Notch at one end and the Crawford Notch at the other.  This highway was started in 1837, but not completed until 1959.  A "notch" is what we westerners would call a 'pass' - literally a way through a chain of mountains that doesn't require you to climb up and down everyone to cross them.

The Franconia Notch is very impressive.  It's the path that a glacier left behind.  In these northern Appalachians, you can follow the paths of the glaciers because they scraped off all the soil  as they receded and left bare mountain faces.  These bare rock faces are sporadic, thus easy to see the glacial path.  I learned these are old, old mountains because they look like big rounded hills.  Geologists think that the Appalachians were at one time in the dim past as high or higher than the current Rocky Mountain chain.  Now, the highest mountain, Mount Washington, is only about 7000 feet.  We haven't seen this one yet.  It's claim to fame is that there are often 200+ mile per hour winds at its top, and up to a 40 degree temperature change from bottom to top.   The White Mountains consist of three distinct ranges within it - the most famous being the set named for presidents (Adams, Washington, Monroe, Jackson, etc.)  My point is that compared to the Rocky Mountains, these are pretty small - although there are 48 peaks higher than 4000 feet.  (There are people who have formed a '48' club, meaning they have hiked all 48 - a few people have carried this to an extreme and have hiked all 48 in the winter.)

The name of the highway and some of the rivers in this area commemorate the Indians that inhabited this area prior to the arrival of the Europeans.  Kancamagus (The Fearless One) was a major chieftain of 17 tribes united into the Penacook Confederacy - an organization conceived and ruled  by his grandfather as the first 'Sagamon'.  This confederacy covered most of northern New England, and was broken by English harassment and bloody clashes.  Kancamagus withdrew to northern New Hampshire and Canada.  If you read between the lines, this tells you that northern new Hampshire was NOT exactly a desirable place.  There was very little settlement here, and those who did come in the late 18th and early 19th century eked out a meager living.  In other words, poor farmers who barely managed to find enough flat land to plant a subsistence crop, and then had to battle terrible winter conditions for more than six months of the year.  

With that said, now this area is managed by the National Forest Service.  There are wonderful overlooks, picnic grounds, waterfalls, and the Swift River (aptly named) that flows next to the road for part of the way.  There are multiple hiking trails ranging from half an hour to several days.  And there's skiing which is really the 'tourist' season here.  Winter sports have been a way for the locals to make money since about 1890. 

When you look out over these mountains, it's solid green trees except for the ski runs, and small patches where the trees have been removed for some purpose such as a house or a small field.  There are very few roads and the ones here are tortured and circuitously winding in a serpentine flow over and around mountains.  The only industry up here for decades of the 19th century was logging - specifically logging of the giant fir trees.  The logging industry is why New England has the colorful autumns.  As the fir trees were taken, it opened up the forest so sunlight could reach the deciduous trees (maples, elms, two kinds of beech, and a host of others).  These trees filled the void left by the absent fir trees, and now, every fall they fill the mountains with color as their leaves turn.

Here are a few pictures of the Kancamagus Highway and the scenery of the White Mountains.  https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireTour1KancanmagusRoadScenicHighwayThruTheWhiteMountains?authkey=Gv1sRgCNXW3bSd2ISs_wE#

Goodbye New York, Hello New Hampshire

It's certainly NOT New York City when a big, big black bear ambles across the road in front of our car just before we turned into the resort where we rented the ski chalet.  OK, call me crazy, but I have a morbid fear of BEARS.  I don't want to see any, and I really, really don't want to acknowledge that they live anywhere near me.   Even  cautious people get eaten by bears.  Somebody got EATEN in Yellowstone Park today by a bear!!!!!  As we drove toward New Hampshire, I nervously asked Drake if he thought there would be any bears.  "I don't know, honey, but don't worry about it."  Yeah, right.  Damn bear strolled across the highway, right in front of our car.  Why should he care?  He could EAT our car if he wanted to.  New Hampshire has started off with a big black check mark.  Not a good first impression.  

We arrived at the ski chalet to discover that someone cornered the kitsch market.  Kitsch is decorating your entire house with a 'theme' like cows or pigs or chickens.  Kitsch is covering every square inch with 'something'.  This house is decorated with ski memorabilia - like the crossed wooden child's skis and poles above the picture window, or the "Eat, Sleep, Ski" wooden sign above the door, the ancient wooden ski that you bump into every time you walk into the kitchen, and the ski theme is combined with bird house lamps,  chintz curtains, multiple pictures (usually depicting some ski activity), as well as china plates, gray concrete flower wall tiles, dried flower arrangements, antique snow shoes hanging on a wall, twenty-five candles in every shape, size and variety with candle holders that range from Christmas to yell and green and 18" tall.  There is also lots and lots and lots of heavy wooden furniture.  Drake, the world's biggest fan of house minimalism, could barely breathe after he'd been here for an hour.

Drake believes that the perfectly decorated house looks like the model home of an upscale housing development.  Functional, spare furniture with one perfectly centered bowl on a single coffee table as the only decoration in the room.  He and I have struggled for years to find some happy medium between functional minimalism and decorating in a way that LOOKS like someone lives there.  Fortunately, as I've always said, my decorating ability has always been to put up another bookcase.  I'm hopeless at decoration, and I can imagine myself running to excess without the balance of my minimalist partner.  I do agree, however, that this decoration is over the top, way, way over the top.  The first thing I did here was to stash at least 40% of the removable decorations.  At least when they were out of sight, Drake began to feel better.

Decoration aside, and bears aside, the views here are very New England.  We're at about 5000 feet on the top of a gently rounded mountain and surrounded by a fir trees sprinkled among a dozen different kinds of deciduous trees including quaking aspen.  I spotted them the first day, and I thought, "No, can't be - don't those only grow in the west?"  Well, they do grow here, and we have several that I can see from the abundant windows.  This house is actually made out of plaster, and the walls are very, very thick.  It's got roll-out windows, several on each wall.  It makes for nice cross-breezes and excellent scenery   I won't belabor the nice weather for all you southern and southwestern summer sufferers.  

We live only a few miles from three 'villages'.  Barbara, the lady who runs the Franconia Welcome Center, explained to me that there are no towns up here, but rather, villages.  The 'village' of Franconia has about 900 people, Sugar Hill (yes, lots of maple trees and a cheese factory) has 700 people, and Easton has about 300 people.  These three villages all cooperate on certain services.  For instance, there's no garbage pick up here.  You have to take your garbage and your recycle to the joint Transfer Station - the address of which was not listed anywhere - because everyone knows where it is, of course.  Tomorrow, I'm going to the Franconia Library which has bizarre hours.  Sugar Hill also has a library, but they haven't graduated to using Library Cards yet.  

Barbara, the welcome lady, is going to be a wealth of information.  Her domain is a tiny house on the main drag of Franconia.  It looks like a child's playhouse with a front porch)   It has a double wide dutch door - those are the ones that the top half opens and the bottom doesn't.  You don't get to go into the little house to pick up stuff - it's controlled access.  Barbara's a retired banker who's lived in the area her entire life.  She sniffed derisively at some of her contemporaries who now live in warmer climes.  I did get the definite feeling that she's really tough.  I actually had to almost beg for some of the info.  She confided to me that she doesn't like to give out certain things to MOST people.  I felt really honored when she bestowed a couple of hidden brochures on me.  As Drake says, I can get along with anybody.  I think it's going to be an interesting relationship.  She also clued me in to the best restaurant in the area.    

We also live about 5 miles from Bethlehem.  It's another village with two golf courses and about a dozen bed and breakfast establishments.  Franconia looks like real people co-exist here with the tourists.  Bethlehem looks owned by tourists.  It's just too quaint.  (Did have some super homemade ice cream there today, though.)  Sugar Hill has three buildings.  I heard a hilarious story today.  It seems there are three little old ladies in Sugar Hill who decided that they needed to feature the spring wildflowers of the area, so they single handedly devised the Lupine Festival - they created a 20 page booklet and a full weekend's worth of activities.  Gotta love those civic minded little old ladies.  I understand one of them owns the cheese factory in Sugar Hill, and the other two the general store  I'm hoping to meet them.

On the personal front, I'm trying to recuperate and get settled in.  There are always a few things that you need.  We are used to having our own stuff, so usually what we need is some fill in furniture.  Here we're buying stuff like a chopper, small covered bowls, good kleenex, a door mat.  We've had the oil burner guy out because the hot water was weird - sure enough a thermostat was malfunctioning.  He gave Drake the short course in oil burner technology.  We have a 'tankless' system for hot water.  The guy was quite interested when Drake described water heaters to him.  They just don't have them up here.  

In the few days we've been here the most exciting thing we've done is attend the Franconia 4th of July celebration.  We ate sweet sausages on strange hot dog buns that at first glance looked like pieces of white bread folded in half but weren't.   This event was called a BBQ, although none was in evidence, and benefited the fire department.  I went to the library book sale, and the flea market sale that benefited the food bank.  (Yes, already located that.  Next week, I'm going to drop by and see what volunteer help they need. ) We entered the Duck Race - hundreds of plastic ducks dropped in the Gale River (which runs thru Franconia) with the winning duck (not mine) getting $500.  The Duck Race was started when the town cannon fired.  It was loud enough to make everyone jump.   

Mostly we watched the parade - it was very Norman Rockwell traditional with local pick up bands playing as they rode sitting down on folding chairs in flatbed trucks covered with crepe paper streamers, all the other floats were home made, and there was a single WWII vet in his Navy officer's uniform riding on the trunk lid of an open convertible to start the parade.  It was all red, white, and blue except for the local dairy that handed out Holstein colored ballons from its float.  The red and yellow villages' firetrucks were there, all blasting their airhorns.  (I wondered at the time what would have happened if someone in the vicinity had a fire.)  There were even a couple of groups touting local political causes marching in a ragtag formation in matching day glow orange T-shirts (STOP the NORTH PASS).  There were families on bikes dressed in costumes.  I especially liked the float comprised of women of a certain age dressed with accents of leopard such as hats, scarfs, tops, etc. and, no, I have no clue what that was all about, but they were having a great time.  This was all accompanied by the Mayor of Franconia doing loudspeaker play by play of the parade from the steps of the City Hall Building.  (NEXT, WE HAVE THE BERLIN JAZZ BAND - BE AT THEIR CONCERT IN BETHLEHEM NEXT SUNDAY AT THE GAZEBO)  This was a quintessential Independence Day Celebration, and it was more fun than I imagined such a small town affair would be. 

That's about it.  We have really been homebodies since we got here.  First, and foremost, I'm trying to let my foot recover.  I stressed it to the maximum in New York, and it needs to rest.  Second, we went someplace for 30 days straight, and I was ready to just stay home and relax.  Relaxing is what this place is, and it is wonderful for SLEEPING.  It's silent, and it's cool.  I don't have to listen to white noise here to be able to get to sleep.   There is lots to so and see around here, but I'm just not ready to start touring yet.  As we all know, that won't last, and I'll be regaling you with New England sights, historical lore, and stories soon.  Adios from New Hampshire.  I'm afraid that's as close as I'm going to get to Mexican food for quite some time.