Tag Archives: fall foliage

Late autumn color on Bear Notch Road.

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Leaving the Kancamagus highway, we took an alternate route. Up and over the Bear Notch road.

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In certain sections, the autumn color was stunning.

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And from the scenic lookout where I screamed at my husband to stop the car….

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Pure perfection.

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Breathe deep of that fresh, crisp mountain air….

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And you’ll know why I keep returning to visit these glorious unspoiled areas.

❤️

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Foliage, the required selfie with foliage, a personalized warning and Sabbaday Falls, part one.

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We didn’t have to look any further than out our balcony to find a stunning vista of changing leaves. Every morning the color was slightly different.

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And you know I couldn’t resist that.

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On our way out that morning I noticed a sign I hadn’t spotted the night before… and I had a hard time believing it wasn’t put there just for me.

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No worries Pollard Brook Resort, I didn’t see any to feed… though I do take exception to the word varmint. In my experience, there are far more two legged ones of those.

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Ah… I do love the mountains.

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On the agenda that morning? Sabbaday Falls off the Kancamagus highway.

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It won’t surprise you to learn my husband’s first thought when he read this was, “I wonder if the tools are still there…” Good thing he didn’t have a shovel handy.

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It was just under half a mile hike to the falls.

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Past a babbling brook and on a wide, leaf lined path.

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As the elevation increased, fencing.

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It was so beautiful. So peaceful…

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A little farther on and the brook turned into a pool.

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Surrounded by glacial boulders. I was in rock heaven…

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And the husband was taking pictures, so you know it was good.

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We’ve driven by this area numerous times but never took the time to stop. Clearly that was a mistake.

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It took 10,000 years for water to wear down the rock and form the falls.

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With my bad knee, it took me nearly half that time to climb all the stairs.

To be continued….

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Leaves, more leaves…. and a few random turkeys.

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One of the nicest things about our resort in the mountains? Beautiful fall foliage right outside our door.

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We were a little past peak for this trip but it was still a lovely palette of color to wake up to.

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This quirky coffee house right down the road only opened the day we left which was disappointing. I haven’t been half baked in decades.

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First day of our trip? We drove…

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Here.

There.

Wherever the leaves took us.

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And if you’re driving with my husband that means traveling on some pretty obscure back roads. Often ones that turn to dirt.

Miles and miles, up and over mountains where there’s nothing but glorious foliage, nature….

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Bear warnings….

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And a randomly placed portapotty.

( Spellcheck kept changing this to portal Otto. I may have missed a prime Tardis opportunity there.)

Here’s a short clip of the splendor. Yours truly is announcing the sighting of turkeys on the left, repeatedly and quite loudly. I do this when I spot cows as well, though in the deeper audible resonance they deserve.

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Ah….

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I love fall!

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And we’re off! Again.

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Yes, it’s true. We took another mini trip and I’m about to flood you with more travel photos.

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This time we just jumped across the border and headed to the White Mountains of north western New Hampshire.

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It’s one of my favorite areas… filled with scenic beauty and wondrous natural places to explore.

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These photos are from the famous Kancamagus highway. A 30 odd mile stretch of road cut right through the mountains.

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In peak foliage season it’s divine and while we were two weeks late for that, there was still some residual color.

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Until you reached the top.

But back down the other side it brightened up again.

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The resort we chose this time around was literally right off this road at the end of the National Forest.

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And for us, you can’t get much better than that.

Since check in wasn’t until 4:00pm, we headed to Woodstock.

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A quaint New England village…

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With a big brewery/restaurant/inn.

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You knew that was coming, right? The autumn beer on the far right was my pick. A rich, creamy amber with notes of pumpkin and nutmeg. Perfect!

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And right above my head, teasing me with every glance? A vintage ale crate, damn it. The husband was determined to purchase it for me but the manager didn’t care how much beer we drank, the answer was always no.

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And though our lunches didn’t appear appetizing?

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They were both delicious. Baked haddock, garlic smashed red potatoes and squash for me. Charbroiled mushroom Swiss burger for the hubs.

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A good start to the vacation… except for this uber creepy spare parts facsimile of a doll hovering alongside the bar.

That is the stuff of nightmares.

😳

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The journey home, continued…

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After traversing the Green Mountains in Vermont, we entered New Hampshire.

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Still mountains, but now they’re White. Although technically right now they’re red, orange and gold.

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This is a beautiful section of NH and one we drive through quite a bit in the autumn.

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There are random wooden moose.

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Glorious fall foliage.

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Random skeleton coffee house greeters.

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And more colorful scenery.

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I think my husband shed a tear over the state of this neglected barn.

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Common to this area? Random filling stations for crystal clear mountain fed spring water. Bring your bottles, fill for free and make some amazing tea or coffee when you get home.

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Yes, please.

Do that as well..

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Another scenic drive.

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Fortified with a wonderful meal, we continued our aimless wandering through Vermont.

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It’s hard to take a bad photo there, especially in the fall. Mountains, trees, and cows.

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Mountains, cows, and farms.

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Every once in a while you’ll pass through a town.

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Then it’s back to mountains, trees, and cows.

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And a very serious porch lover.

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Also, there were fish.

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I have no explanation for random fish, but they were delightful all the same.

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The best? I don’t know.. but it was pretty damn good.

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As we headed out on the morning of our only full day in Vermont ( 3 days, 2 nights is simply too short a trip) we enjoyed the leaves and the scenery and headed for what I was told was the best bread in the state.

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The Red Hen.

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It’s a bakery and cafe.

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So we sidled up to place an order.

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And watched the pros at work.

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I grabbed two loaves of fresh bread to take home, (a crusty peasant white and an unbelievably tasty lemon rosemary) but had to try a mushroom toasty while we were there as well.

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The husband had some sort of homemade soup I didn’t get around to photographing because my sandwich was simply too divine to ignore. 3 types of sautéed mushrooms with spinach and melted cheese on whole grain bread. Sounds simple but there was an unidentified herb in the cheese and it had me smiling ear to ear.

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Clearly this long armed chicka by the door could have used one.

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Onward….

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A Notch rock, Stowe… and the biggest, bestest eagle in Vermont.

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Morning dawned and after breakfast we headed out through The Notch again.

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Big rocks?

Check!

We drove through Stowe, one the most picturesque New England villages you’re ever apt to find.

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This is the money shot people line up on the side of the road for when the leaves are at peak. We were a little early, but trust me it’s glorious in full color.

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Stowe is lovely and filled with interesting little shops and restaurants that we didn’t have time to explore this trip.

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It was also raining, which kills the joy of leisurely strolls for me.

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Even if there is a covered bridge for pedestrians.

A bit further down the road, I saw something out of the corner of my eye and hollered at the husband to stop. (He loves that. Don’t let him tell you differently.)

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I have no idea the why of this, but slightly off the road in a little clearing was this beautiful metal eagle. I should have taken a selfie for scale, but I’m 5’4 and stood under the wing no problem.

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There was a sign to the right with the artist’s name and number but it was so faded I couldn’t make it out. My husband was glad of this, because I kept saying how absolutely fabulous this guy would look in front of the man cave/Barn Mahal.

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👍

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The journey.

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We set off early Tuesday morning and it was a perfectly beautiful day. Sunny, with a delightful bite of crisp fall air.

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We hit the western Maine mountains before 10….

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And the New Hampshire White Mountains shortly after. Leaves were just beginning to turn and it was wonderful.

At 1:00?

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Hello Vermont! We’ve missed you.

And you’re welcome, though I’m not sure what we did to deserve your thanks.

If you’ve never been to Vermont? I have one word for you… go!

Verdant green fields and barn red barns. Gentle rolling hills and well tended farms. Picturesque mountain villages and of course, cows.

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It’s gloriously scenic, delightfully quirky, and utterly addicting.

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We were sad to see The Farmer’s Daughter gift shop had lost its daughter. There used to be a large sign out front of a farm girl with her skirt blown up… but all that’s left now are the hands, hanging disembodied and more than a little creepy.

We did see a giant hammer wind mill down the road…

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But it doesn’t bring the same smile to your face as that saucy wind blown wench.

When we headed north and west towards our resort, the weather took a turn.

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Eerie, ominous skies dominated the rest of the way and by the time we arrived in the little town of Jeffersonville?

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Rain. And so much high fog you couldn’t see the mountains.

To be continued….

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