The New Hampshire Story- a photo journal of Mountains and Good Times

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Mt. Potash, New Hamshire The river runs, runs, runs New Hamshire landscape photography Kat crossed the river An arrow points the way
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Take a seat, see the view, mountains in New Hampshire All by ourselves in the Rain
Rainy in the Econo Lodge, NH
Wake up Wake Up, New Hampshire
Flapjacks in New Hampshire
We Could Eat Here Every Day, Flapjacks, NH
Gotta Love this, Flapjacks decoration NH
The Best Breakfast Before Departing New Hampshire
Vittle Fixins
Inside the Post OfficeNutty girls in New Hampshire
New Hampshire Early Morning

And so, there’s a story here.

The story could start with how New Hampshire was just supposed to be an afternoon/early morning exploration, a stop over in our 5 day roadtrip before heading into Vermont and then down to Connecticut. I’d just looked on map and said, “Huh, White Mountains Natl. Forrest… sounds cool yeah? Lets spend a night there.”  Which would bleed into the story about the hastily booked night at an Econo-Lodge (that turned into two) and the comfortable god-I-feel-like-I-could-live-here feeling I got hanging out in the cold parking lot staring up into star studded sky, my feet bare and touching the cold pavement like it was a wondrous carpet lit up underneath my feet. I say it all the time, and I think it even more, “I could live here” but… it’s different when you’re standing outside of your warm and cozy room, in thin pj’s, not-at-all-reliable service on your phone, staring up at the mountains with a true longing in your heart.

There’s the story about the rainy afternoon we spent exploring up in the mountains after getting a really late start and then getting lost for 2 hours on the roads and highways that run run run all over the mountains there, just trying to get back to somewhere that didn’t proclaim “Caution, Bears” while getting slowly soaked and feeling like the only people in the mountains. The story about how at almost 7 in the evening, the sun still just a suggestion behind storm clouds, me and Kat tried to cross a river running high, her in her much beat up Converse and me in my utterly useless Nike’s. There was a plan that involved, “so like, you just jump a bit and try and grab ahold of that sapling there on the edge and then…” before Kat decided to be smart and convinced us to turn back. I remember calming agreeing with her decision ( or perhaps I was the one that yelled into the trees “You won’t defeat me forever Mt. Potash! I will be back, with a horse! Because thats the only way you can cross this damn thing!”) before we turned back onto the trail that lead back to the car and warmth. And then we found an overlook that spread out the mountains in front of us like a painting of beauty and we got even more soaked and I felt my heart squeeze with happiness while our feet squelched and left a trail of dirty river water everywhere we went.

Theres the story about drinking hard cider on the bed back in our room, while nursing a bruised bottom and achy joints, staring up at the ceiling and wondering when did you become such an adventure and also when did you get so out of shape, while your friend watched How I Met Your Mother on her iPad.  There’s a tale about the most epic breakfast we had throughout the whole trip at a place called Flapjacks Pancake house and the little toy train that sped around the restaurant making everything feel like out of a fuzzy dream. The tiny aside in the story about how i’m pretty sure my excessive photo-taking started grating on Kats nerves but how she put up with me like a champ anyways, and the all too perfect ending to the tale when we woke up on the morning we were leaving, to clear skies and perfectly sunny weather, before we started our overly caffeinated drive into Vermont.

So yes, there’s a story here.


Champney Falls, NH- A Photo Journal (and also, my phone died)

White Mountains National Forest

White Mountains, NH foliage

New Hamshire white mountains river

New Hampshire forest photography

New Hampshire mountains

Champney Falls, NH waterfall photography

Champney Falls trail signs

Trail signs in New Hampshire

Up the steps, New Hampshire travel photography

White mountains, green

Rivers here, man, they're magical

Champney Falls, NH

~Continuing the photographic adventures I had with a good friend back in May that i’ve just now finally gotten ’round to editing….. ahem, procrastination, I am thy humble slave…

To say I was good at any part of this would be a terrible, terrible lie. I wouldn’t stop taking photographs, Kat trail blazed like a pro, and I fell down numerous times, though thankfully I somehow managed not to break my camera even a little. At the falls my phone, though being perfectly fine throughout the hike up, decided to commit suicide and turned itself off till we had gotten back to the start of the trail. Cheeky little thing.
We snacked on really unhealthy frosted donuts and water, completely alone up in trail, enjoying the falls all to ourselves, and while my joints ached with disuse and I half wanted to die a little, I want to go back one day soon and do it all over again.


Heading Up to the Falls- Photo Journal with None too Steady Hands

New Hampshire foliage
Exploring up in the white Mountains, NH
NH river photography
Exploring in the NH white mountains
New Hampshire forests
Nature in the white mountains
Explorers in New Hampshire
New Hampshires White Mountains
A view down, in the white mountains NH
A river while heading up to the Falls, NH

a continuation of adventures I’ve only just got around to sharing that happened back at the end of May….

My first time up in the woods, actual woods and not just a particularly overgrown backyard. Kat showed me what real thighs are made of, and I learned Texas had not prepared me for the hardship of up-up-up and forever forward. Also, shaky hands do not make the best of a photographer, but a snap here and a snap there are better than just throwing the damned heavy thing in our shared backpack and giving up. Determination, thy name was discovered in the rainy downpour of a New Hampshire trail.


Around the muddy Bend, in Dresses- New Hampshire

Rocky Gorge Scenic Area
alone by the lake, New Hampshire Rock Gorge Scenic areaRocky Gorge, New Hampshire Out on the Lake, New Hampshire white mountainsKat, Explorer
Up up up! Wait for me kat! Ah, mile markers, new HampshireA little bridge, in the woods, New Hampshiremy kind of place

Following the adventures I had back at the end of May….which, yes….i’m terrible at getting around to editing and posting things, it’s a thing i’m working on. Kinda. Sorta. Ok, moving on…

To be fair, only Kat was wearing a dress, and she was actually the one who had the most sure footing. After departing from our perfect moment wandering the waters ,we headed into the woods to muddy our feet, climb trees and shake the city dust off our hearts.It was fantastic, to be running around after sitting in a car for 3 hours, cooped up and expecting rain. We had arrived in the White Mountains later in the day then we’d expected, the sun was already starting to set and yet we continued around the bend, around the lake to explore more more more. People lingered in spots but for the most part it was solely our playground, solitude in the best way.

The next day we learned that Kat had gotten a bit of a sunburn on her chest, and my knees felt like they were on FIRE while we hiked around the area, but in that moment, running around like wild children of the forest, nothing mattered more than making our way around the bend.


We Dangled Our Feet off the Edge- Rocky Gorge, New Hampshire

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Following the adventures I had back at the end of May….yes….i’m terrible at getting around to editing and posting things, it’s a thing i’m working on. Kinda. Sorta. Ok, moving on…

To say that having this place to ourselves, getting to climb around the rocks with the water rushing all around us, laughing from the sheer joy of being surrounded by such beauty… to say that i’ll ever forget that evening spent with a grin streched across my face a million miles wide and seeing a matching one on Kats face…to say anything short of “this right here, this was a special kind of perfection “ wouldn’t be the truth.