The White Mountains

Another summer-like day in New Hampshire found us on the Kancamagus Scenic Byway, named for a chief of the Penacook Confederacy, who tried to keep the peace between his people and the settlers. After his efforts failed in the early 1690’s, the tribes moved to northern New Hampshire and Canada.

As we began the ascent, a traffic sign warned that there was no gas for 32 miles. For 32 glorious miles there were only tree-covered mountains with glimpses of granite outcroppings.

Then we came down the mountain into “civilization.” It was a shock to re-enter the world of ski resorts and outlet malls.

Fortunately, our lodging was a few miles farther north in the tiny village of Jackson. We rumbled across a single-lane covered bridge and wound our way up the hill to the Eagle Mountain House. On the registry of Historic Hotels of America, it first housed travelers in 1879. Fire destroyed the wooden structure in 1915 but was rebuilt immediately using timber from the farm.

Tonight we will go to sleep to the chorus of the spring peepers in the babbling brook across the road from the hotel.