Bill Barnes

       It was vaguely surreal to wake up to a trailer with laundry hanging from every place possible, including open cabinets. Fortunately it was all dry. Today was another traveling day, so we folded and packed and got moving as quickly as possible, though it never seems particularly quick. One disappointment was that I hadn’t remembered to recharge the digital camera batteries. And I’m enough of an environmental extremist not to go buy disposable ones, so no pictures today.
       We spent much of the day driving across the 34 miles of the Kancamagus Highway, which connects Conway, N.H., to Lincoln, N.H., via a particularly scenic stretch of the White Mountain National Forest. There’s a great place to stop every few miles, and when we weren’t stopping we were driving slowly along oohing and ahhing at the leaves, which seemed to be at their peak, at least to our amateur eyes.
       We walked the dog along Rocky Gorge and ran into a family out with their Rottweiler. They were at a beautiful spot, but the mom warned us not to come closer because their dog couldn’t handle it. The dog underlined this by growling menacingly at Tella. I was incredibly frustrated. Why is it my problem that their dog is poorly trained? Sara and I went to great lengths to train our dog to be friendly and quiet around other dogs. And I’ve met too many sweet Rottweilers to think it’s an incurable attribute of the breed. I mentally gave the woman a good talking-to and then walked around them. That’ll show her.
       At Sabbaday Falls we watched as leaves traveled down the falls. Each took a slightly different path, some racing to the bottom, some taking their time, some holding desperately on at the top. As we walked back, Sara collected some pretty leaves for her flower press.
       Finally we arrived at Franconia State Park. We had planned to spend the next two days at the campground there but discovered that it accepts neither big rigs nor pets. Fortunately, we got a recommendation for a nice little private campground up the road. There we found a truly idyllic spot by a babbling brook, hundreds of yards away from anyone else. There are no hookups, which means we’re running on batteries, propane, and our fresh water tank. We can easily do this for two or three nights, longer if we’re careful.
       Trailer life is close quarters, and Sara and I decided to take a few hours apart while we were still getting along. I drove off in the pickup to find a cafe to read in. What’s wrong with this part of the country? There were several bars and one Dunkin’ Donuts, but not a single open coffee house. Still, I had a nice drive in the adjoining towns, and even managed to come across a pair of moose. At first I thought a really ugly horse had got loose. But then I realized it was an adult female moose, with a bull moose close behind. I turned off the engine and just watched, all the while debating with myself whether I could safely tell Sara. She’s seen a couple of moose too on this trip, but they’ve both been dead ones in the backs of pickup trucks, hunting season having started in Maine just before we left.
       We ended the day with cherry pie by a roaring campfire next to the brook. Tonight the forecast is for a mild evening with some rain. That means no snow, so I can sleep soundly.