There are many perks to city livin' - like having a small carbon footprint, and being able to obtain banana bread and Chai at will - but easy access to nature ain't one of 'em. Sometimes, you have to get out of town.
I've now traveled to Franconia Notch Park once, thanks to a native New Hampshirian who recently showed me the sights, but I'm still reaping the sanity-inducing benefits.
We began by hiking The Flume trail. I was surprised at the $10 admission fee, since it's a relatively small area to hike, but the trail does include a long network of wooden walkways and historic bridges that likely require more than average maintenance. I felt that this was pricey but worth it; they seem to take conservation of the area seriously, with signs protecting recovering wildlife areas and even a box to recycle used trail maps.
I was also glad to see that many elderly people and small children were able make the hike through this blissfully cool, shaded chasm and up into the surrounding foothills, where you can see water rushing down through a deep gorge and out over smooth fins of rock, and later on, peer down from a covered bridge at a scenic waterfall cascading down into a perfectly clear pool of water. At the time of our visit, a early Sept. cold snap had kicked off a splash of autumn color in the foothills, and the colors were amazingly vivid - I'd definitely recommend seeing the park at this time of year.
After our hike, we drove out to Attatash amidst a herd of RV's, baby-boomer motorcyclers, and tour buses. The drive was beautiful, but we were disappointed to find that the alpine slide had been disassembled - I remembered this fun summertime ski resort ride from when I was a kid, and hope that I'll make it back before Labor Day next year.
We then stopped near Loon and had a bite to eat at Elvio's, which I'm told is a local institution - we gulped down an amazing thick-crust Sicilian pizza with a crust so buttery, flaky and thick that I would have thought it was rolled from brioche dough.
We ended our night with two other amazing activities that one certainly cannot do in Boston: 1) we purchased a motorized squirrel from a gas station, and 2) we witnessed a parade of about 600 men wearing plaid skirts, walking and/or dancing down the main street in town (it was during the Highland Festival).
Obviously, I'm still reveling in the memories. I hope to come back soon! Viva nature (and New Hampshirians!) read more