All posts by Rivergirl

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The Cog

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The final stop on our leaf peeping day trip tour was the Cog Railway on Mount Washington.

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This is one of those “must do” tourist things that we’ve never managed to do and since we were in the area, we thought… why not?

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The answer to that question was hundreds of other tourists who thought the same thing. The place was packed and there was no space available on the trains for the next 3 days without reservations.

The Cog is a strange beast.

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And like no other train ride you’re ever apt to take.

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So even though we couldn’t find a seat, we stayed to watch.

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With a slowly dying beautiful remnant of summer.

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That’s the husband taking a closer look at the bridge.

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And this is the Cog.

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Beginning it’s climb up the mountain at a breath taking 2.7 mph.

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Here’s a shot of the unique rail line.

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I won’t bore those who don’t care about trains or history, but if you’re interested you can check this out:

https://www.sentinelsource.com/life_and_style/books/cog-railway-has-a-rich-interesting-and-sometimes-tragic-history/article_35ad4a9a-3e52-5bff-a50e-cfca3c804cd6.html

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In this part of the world, it’s pretty famous.

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I had to.

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When I found and bought my most fabulous beer tap a while back, I ran across another one I knew I had to buy as well.

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I mean really, how could I not?

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It’s a woodchuck. Holding an apple. They could have modeled him after our yearly brood.

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Perfect for a man cave/barn whose crawl space serves as a seasonal chucker hotel.

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He now has pride of place on an overturned shot glass in between the giant bullet and my freaky cocktail stirrers.

Life is good.

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Mountains, foliage and a little food.

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When you exit the Kancamagus Highway…

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You find yourself in the town of Woodstock, and when you’re in Woodstock?

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You have to visit the Woodstock Inn and Brewery.

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Of course if you visit this time of year.. you can expect to search endlessly for a parking spot, be unable to sit outside due to the high crowd volume, and find that the only indoor space available are two stools at the end of the bar.

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The brewery is a funky place, filled with all kinds interesting eye candy.

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But it was extremely crowded as well as extremely loud, so we decided to have a drink and an appetizer and be on our way.

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Pomegranate margarita and some fabulous duck wontons with sweet Thai chili sauce for me.

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And a French onion soup so loaded with cheese for the husband I thought he’d never get through it.

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After our snack we headed to Franconia Notch…

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Where the fall color was a bit past peak but still impressive.

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Trees.

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Fall leaves.

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And mountains.

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No narrative required.

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More from the glorious Kanc.

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Part two of Mother Nature’s amazing foliage display along the Kancamagus Highway.

No narrative required.

( And if you’ve never experienced autumn in New England? What the hell are you waiting for! )

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Now tell me your blood pressure didn’t just drop.

😉

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This can’t be a coincidence.

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It never ceases to amaze me how different platforms communicate these days.

And by communicate, I mean stalk your every move and gather information to be used for targeted advertising.

Case in point… I clicked on this Wal Mart ad I saw on Facebook the other day because it looked ridiculous and might be good blog fodder.

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A half hour later I checked my WordPress account and noticed a new follower.

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That can’t be a coincidence.

Of course, I Googled Bombay’s new Bramble gin last week…

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And was hit with this ad on my Apple news feed later that day.

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It really is uncanny how well they know me.

🤣

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A little of this and a whole lotta nothing.

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The husband and I reluctantly stopped at a tourist-centric restaurant last week which is something we try hard to avoid. Why do we dislike the tourist places? The seafood is usually sub par, ( it was ) the decor is usually tacky ( plastic lobsters, fake fishing nets) and the menu usually contains pictures they think tourists want to see.

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This is the world’s largest lobster roll, it sells for $100 and if you finish the whole thing by yourself? You’re made a member of the clean plate club. But that picture? Just… no.

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Required photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten watching a flock of starlings.

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Finally…. An advent calendar I can get behind. Or under as the case may be.

👍

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It poured the other night and as you can see…. the husband’s latest roof repair did not hold up. And if that wasn’t bad enough, my latest patch job turned out to be perfect for funneling water down the wall and creating liquid filled bubbles. This has been going on so long I’m tempted to just wrap the house in plastic and call it good.

🥴

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I’ve been known to have an epiphany or two while drinking, but wine that tastes God? That’s a whole other ball of wax.

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Color me surprised. I had absolutely no idea.

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Another one bites the dust.

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His Lordship was on high alert after hearing something in the backyard stone wall.

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Not finding anything, he tried the front lawn stone wall.

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After narrowly missing a chipmunk there….

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He returned to the back lawn stone wall… and waited.

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Patience paid off. He snatched a mouse out of a rock crevice and ran with it to the back door, which was thankfully closed. Rodent death was fairly quick this time around …

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So Dudley got bored with his prize and headed back to the wall. Leaving another fresh carcass for yours truly.

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Liquid Saturday , the finale.

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After a beer and hard cider filled morning and early afternoon…. and a less than stellar mid afternoon chowder house lunch with margaritas, I thought we were going home. But my husband realized we were driving up on a friend’s town and gave him a call.

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Enter the Bait Shed restaurant and bar in the Pine Point area of Scarborough…

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Where our friend was sitting and thoughtfully holding seats for us… complete with waiting cocktails.

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I’d never been nor even heard of this place, but a better spot to end the day would be hard to find.

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The ocean breeze was cool, the summer tourists were gone. We had good company, potent drinks, hearty laughs and fresh seafood.

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They don’t take themselves too seriously at the Bait Shed….

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Probably because their establishment really was a bait shed in a previous life.

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It’s the type of place Maine locals avoid like the plague during the season and visit frequently once the outta staters have left the state.

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It’s the type of place where you’ll get a dirty look if you order an espresso martini, but I saw a bowl of chowder go by and damned if it wasn’t the real thing.

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