Tag Archives: New Hampshire

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Polar Caves Part 4….The fork in the road. More caves, more rocks.

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As so often happens in life, we came to a fork in the road.

 

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Mind you, by this time we’d climbed 6,492,745 steps…. so the fact that the sign to the left said difficult route? Did not fill me with joy.

 

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But ever the supportive wife, I let the husband decide which path we’d take. Thankfully his aching back and residual sciatica made him veer right, although the name Devil’s Turnpike didn’t inspire a lot of confidence as to it’s ease of use.

 

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Husband explored more caves.

 

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I photographed more trees and rocks.

 

 

 

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And climbed more steps.

 

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And then even more steps.

 

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And then thought about all the steps I’d have to climb down when we were through.

 

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Did I mention there were a lot of steps?

 

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There were a lot of steps.

Okay, back to the rocks.

 

 

 

Why is there never a pogo stick around when you need one?

 

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We walked past rocks, over rocks, through rocks….

 

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And occasionally under rocks.

 

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While praying silently for the ground to be earthquake free.

 

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Yeah, thanks for that helpful factoid.

 

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As the husband climbed the Devil’s Turnpike…..

 

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And entered the next cave…

I took the path that had my name written all over it.

 

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All day long baby…

 

 

 

I do give him credit though.

 

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He’s still pretty limber for his age…

 

 

One final cave to go… and it was called the Lemon Squeeze.

 

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Yours truly?

 

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Yup. Every party has a pooper… and that day, it was me.

Oddly enough the Squeeze was the husband’s downfall. He couldn’t do it. Too small, too tight.

And you know if he got stuck? He was staying there…. because I wasn’t going in after him.

 

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Polar Caves Part 3. The caves… and more rocks.

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The caves.

 

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I’d like to tell you I explored them all.

 

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But I’d be lying.

 

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They were tiny, cramped, straight down and seriously dark.

 

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So yours truly let the husband crawl through them while I took the bypasses above ground.

 

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I know, a post about caves from above the caves doesn’t sound very satisfying….

 

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But does that look at all comfortable?

 

 

I still got to walk through rocks…

 

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And without all the bumps, bruises and scrapes the husband amassed that day.

 

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Although there were some dead ends.

 

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I’m not sure who named the caves…

 

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But there certainly were a lot of them.

 

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And some of the exits were awesome.

 

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Damn!

 

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That’s a lot of rock.

 

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Husband was happy as a clam. He used to go caving as a kid and it probably brought back some good memories. You know, like terror… and claustrophobia.

He kept trying to talk me into going down there with him, but when I peered down into the blackness?

I looked something like this….

 

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Just….

No.

 

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I think he was a little nervous after reading the name of this one …

 

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But he shimmied through quite well.

 

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Then turned around and asked for my extra camera. (Pardon his language. Sh*t is a favorite word lately)

 

 

 

I left him happily exploring and snapping pictures in the dark… (which I won’t share with you because he can’t take a photo to save his life. They’re either blurry… or solid black) …and made my way around another bypass.

 

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My appreciation for the people who built these boardwalks growing with each step.

 

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Clearly no rock was harmed during the construction process.

Well done boardwalk designer.

Well done.

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Polar Caves Part 2… rocks, trees and more rocks.

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Walking along a lovely path past a duck pond….

 

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We found the covered bridge.

 

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And kissed.

 

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Continuing along the walkways…

 

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We read the park’s history.

 

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And decided what to do first.

 

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Remember when I said this series would have a lot of rocks?

 

 

The rocks start now.

 

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Matter of fact, this section was called the Rock Garden.

 

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So clearly I’m not the only enthusiast.

 

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I loved it.

 

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It was like a moss covered fairy village with fabulously crafted wooden boardwalks.

 

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Meticulously cut around the rocks.

 

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I could have happily wandered there all day.

 

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Rocks!

 

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Some seriously big rocks.

 

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Did I mention this was a rock garden….

 

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And it was full of rocks?

 

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I was loving it.

 

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Though I admit getting a little tired from all the steps.

 

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But the rocks….

 

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They rocked.

 

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As did the funky lichen, ferns and moss.

 

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The steps?

 

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My thighs said, not so much.

 

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But we kept walking.

 

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Through some seriously old rocks…

 

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A veritable maze of old rocks.

 

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Fern covered rocks!

 

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And then we discovered the caves we’d come to see…

 

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Were way up there.

 

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White Mountains trip Day 3…. Polar Caves.

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The Polar Caves in Rumney, NH was one of the few tourist destinations on my list. While we usually prefer natural wild places, I’d read good reviews on this multi generational family run spot and figured we should check it out.

Happily we showed up on the last day of the year that they’re open and didn’t have to fight the crowds.

 

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I knew I was going to like it when we saw a large oak tree in the parking lot with this sign underneath…

 

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You have to appreciate that kind of thoughtfulness, if not their spelling.

 

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I had my doubts after buying tickets in the ticky tacky gift shop and walking outside to find the usual giant Adirondak chair.

And when we saw the creepy anorexic polar bears?

 

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I figured I’d made a mistake.

 

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But the small petting zoo charmed me…

 

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With it’s precious European fallow deer…

 

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That we had to feed…

 

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And pet.

 

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I mean really…. could you resist that face?

 

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They make the funniest noise when they vocalize, almost a squeak.

 

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And after having his say, this guy almost fell asleep.

 

 

 

Look how small they are. I told the husband I could easily fit a couple in the barn, but he wasn’t amused.

There were also some gorgeous Chinese pheasants.

 

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Although they were hard to photograph due to the cages and a moat around the outside that keeps pesky children’s fingers away.

 

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The tails on the males were pretty impressive.

 

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As were their colors.

 

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But this little guy stole my heart.

 

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Look at him…

 

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He’s a Dr. Seuss bird come to life!

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White Mountains trip Day 3… frost, foliage, skulls and old men.

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We woke up on the morning of our third day to a bit of chilly weather.

 

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And a whole lotta windshield frost.

 

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You can tell by the husband’s face he was not pleased with the little girlie scraper I keep in my car. But heck, he shouldn’t grumble. It beat his credit card.

 

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There were more trees, and more fall foliage.

 

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And of course, skulls.

 

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And skeletal ATV passengers.

 

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Which we saw at a local gas station.

Off roading is a huge industry in the mountains and these things are everywhere. Some towns even allow them to run the main roads. Rental places are abundant, with guides plotting out trips and trails for novices.

We even drove past an ATV Halloween parade. Bizarre doesn’t begin to describe it…. but no matter how loudly I squealed for the husband to stop so I could photograph it…. he flew right past.

 

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Day 3 had us cruising down Route 2 through Gilead, Maine.

 

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Blink and you’ll miss the town.

 

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But it’s always one of my favorite scenic rides in the area.

 

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A little farther down the road the mountains held on to some fog.

 

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And it can be a surreal sight.

 

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Hanging there, still and quiet….

 

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Ethereal.

 

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We were heading to the Polar caves in Rumney, New Hampshire and drove past numerous ski areas….

 

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As well as Franconia Notch where there wasn’t much foliage at all.

 

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The Old Man in the Mountain used to live here…

 

 

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But sadly, he collapsed on May 3, 2003.

 

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And if you lived in this part of the country?

Trust me…

You wept.

 

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White Mountains trip Day 2…. Upper Jackson Falls

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Yes… we’re still on the second day of our trip.

And yes, we’re still at the Falls.

 

 

Hey, just be glad I’m weeding through the 1704 photos and only giving you the highlights.

 

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Working our way up the falls took some time.

 

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But it really was lovely.

 

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Nothing like hanging out with Mother Nature to lower your blood pressure.

 

 

The closer we got to the top, the more people just plunked themselves down on the rocks and made themselves comfortable…

 

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And why not?

It’s a great place to read, unwind…and enjoy the day.

 

 

At the top you cross a wonderful iron bridge…

 

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Look both ways…

 

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And say thank you Jackson Falls…

 

 

I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you.

 

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And your rocks.

(Or maybe that was just me.)

Done with the Falls, we headed into town for some sustenance.

 

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And found the cutest pumpkin display ever…

 

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Next to our destination.

 

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It looked promising.

 

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Warm and inviting.

 

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A vintage inn and tavern whose bar was packed to the rafters that late Saturday afternoon.

 

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I wanted to love it.

 

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I mean come on, they had ski lift seating….

 

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And a sign for the Woodchuck Trail. Who doesn’t love that?

But the service was terrible, the beer was warm and the food? When it finally came, over an hour after we ordered, was barely edible.

Sorry Martin, I didn’t even bother with pictures. Dry meatless ribs and a soggy Rachel sandwich do not warrant photographs.

 

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But martian pumpkins and gourds?

Definitely do.

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White Mountains trip Day 2…. Lower Jackson Falls

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When I say Falls, I’m not talking Niagara…

 

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In October, these are dotted with bright foliage…..

 

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And cascade gently down the hill.

 

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No barrel required.

 

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Which is good, because it’s a hard look to pull off.

 

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Selfies you shoot into the sun so you can see your hands holding your phone reflected in your glasses are so much easier.

 

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Did I mention there were rocks?

 

 

 

And tranquil pools…

 

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As well as some pretty nice views?

 

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Well there were.