We really didn't give enough time to New Hampshire. Since we went north through Vermont and back south through Maine, and New Hampshire is a narrow state, we just passed through the skinny parts going either way. But we did make a point (or I made a point, and Justin tagged along since I was driving) of driving up Mt. Washington. At 6288 feet, it's much lower than many of the passes we've crossed in the west, let alone the mountains we've seen, but it does have the distinction of having the most wretched weather just about anywhere. When we drove up it was clear, about 25 degrees with winds of 20-25 mph (imagine the wind chill under those conditions), which is a good day. This was a week ago. The road is now closed for the winter. We made the good move of going late in the day, so the road was closed to cars going up when we came back down. It's a narrow, winding road with a steep dropoff on one side and often barely enough room for two cars to pass each other, so I was really glad not to have to worry about squeezing by anyone on the way down. We listened to a CD audio tour about the road, which has been there since the mid-19th century. There are some wacky speed records going up. The current record I think is 7 minutes; we did it in about 25. I don't know how people race up there without killing themselves.
This is the view from the top:
You can also take a cog train up. Next time, maybe. It was very cute. (Oddly, the very family friendly CD did not tell us about the tradition of mooning the cog.)
This building is literally chained to the mountain.
Attempt at a self-portrait.
Justin and Auletta stayed in the car (perhaps wisely) while I ran around taking pictures and freezing my butt off, but they did step out for a quick picture.
4 weeks ago