Monday, 9 July 2018
I'm guessing there was a largish wild animal roaming around last night, based on Dexter's behavior. About 1:00 he started barking - just one bark, and then another, and then another, and then another - not continuous but he wouldn't stop when I told him to, which he always does sooner or later. This time it was later, much later. I had the windows open because it was a cool night and when he was barking I could smell a very bad, very weird smell. I assumed it was coming from inside, though I got up and couldn't locate it. I woke up in the morning and no bad smell at all and now I'm wondering if the smell came from whatever Dexter was barking at. Fortunately, he didn't wake up any of our neighbors. But I'm really curious what got him going.
About mid-morning I was getting the cabin ready for us to hit the road. I do the same things every time and the critters recognize what I'm doing. This time Roscoe decided he didn't want to get in the crate I put them in when we're driving, so he jumped up on the back of the bench at the table and started to jump up to the upper berth, where he spends a lot of time. I grabbed him as he was jumping (stupid) and lost my balance and fell over onto the driver's seat, still holding Roscoe who, by this time, was seriously displeased. Then I had to clamber to my feet, which lately I use my hands for to help push me up, only I didn't have any hands free so it took extra time and effort. Meanwhile Roscoe continued to express his displeasure - I finally got upright and got him in his crate and ended with some scrapes from the fall and some punctures from the cat's claws. What a way to start a trip.
Later I noticed an increasing pain in my mid-section and decided I must have had a muscle spasm when I fell, and that it was still hanging around. But as the day went on, the pain didn't go away and almost any movement I made that involved my right side was painful. I've finally decided I must have bruised ribs, because the pain feels like a bruise. My only previous contact with bruised ribs is reading about them in the Dick Francis mysteries, which I'm currently rereading, and I couldn't figure out what that meant. But I think now I know. Big nuisance, being right-handed.
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| today's route |
I went first to the Quincy Bog, well known enough to have its own highway sign. I turned off onto the 2-lane road from the "highway" and went around a curve and suddenly found myself staring at a covered bridge.
Farther down the road I stopped at a farm stand that the owner of my campground had recommended when I said I was going to the bog. Glad I did, too, because their veggies were all very fresh and the lettuce I bought was beautiful.
While I was waiting my turn in line, an enormous tanker drove by; the farm stand owner said he drives by regularly and she didn't know where he was going, but we all speculated about whether he went through that bridge and whether it could stand up to a heavy truck like his and how he went around the corners on these roads.
I was waiting for my change and suddenly got a whiff of something wonderful and looked around until I'd identified some cilantro in a nearby tub. I asked the owner about it and she said she'd learned that, to some people, cilantro tastes like soap. I count myself luckier than I knew.
I passed a yellow highway warning sign that said "Horse Crossing" and then just around the bend I saw another sign announcing a business called American Transmission and seemed to be a garage at somebody's house. It just struck me funny - I mean, were the horses replaced by the vehicles or the other way around or did they work together. I saw neither horses nor transmissions.
I'd been seeing the brown tourist/natural area directional signs to get to the bog, but I couldn't find any others as I drove down the road it was supposed to be on. I passed a road called Quincy Bog Road but thought it was just for residents, not for the visitor center. But after I'd driven through Rumney out onto the west side where I knew the bog wasn't, the road got very narrow and I couldn't find any place to stop and turn or ask for help. Finally I found a parking lot for the Rumney Rocks Climbing Area, run by the US Forest Service, and there was a nice USFS person there to give me directions. There were also several climbers getting their equipment ready. They looked much more fit and active than I think I've ever been.
Driving back the way I came to go to the bog, I found just how narrow the road was: on my side of the road were an enormous granite boulder about 30' tall and at a different spot an enormous tree with a trunk about 30' around. And both of them were ON the road - the road was barely routed around them. And with my side mirrors sticking out I've got zero extra space and was very thankful nobody came along the road in the opposite direction right then. Very exciting.
Quincy Bog, managed by the Nature Conservancy, is not really a bog, I learned at the Nature Center. Instead it's a fen, as you can see in the photo on the right. It was created by a glacier, and the peat at the bottom of the pond is 6000 years old.The area is a mix of trees and pond with a narrow boardwalk running around the pond. I took the dogs along for a ways, but after Dexter stepped off into the mud for the 2nd time and Gracie did for the 1st time, I decided it was enough nature at close hand. But it's a lovely, quiet area full of life. Dragonflies, many species of birds, fish, who knows how many critters, and surprisingly not too many mosquitoes. The parking area was cool and shady, so we ate lunch there.
On the road back towards the campground, I turned right at the north end of Newfound Lake and headed to Paradise Point Nature Center, run by NH Audubon. It's a beautiful place, heavily wooded with several trails running through the woodlands. It's also extremely hilly and was difficult going for those of us not in peak condition. Gracie got seriously spooked by some unknown sound, and I finally stopped trying to drag her along the trail and took her back to the RV. When her PTSD kicks in, her fear is manic. Then Dexter and I went back out on the trail (up hill, down hill, up hill), a trail created by tree roots holding the hillsides together. I could see Newfound Lake below and wanted to get a photo, which I hadn't been able to do from the road.
I took the photo on the left because I'd seen driving down the road that there was an island that was just barely big enough for a tiny house and about 5 trees. This is another angle of it and not quite so dramatic, but that's what it is. The photo on the right is Newfound Lake from the very north end. It's New Hampshire's 3rd largest lake, after Lake Winnipesaukee and Squam Lake.
Dexter, being in better shape than I am, wanted to keep going down the trail, but I knew I still had hills and tree roots to traverse just to get back to the RV so we turned around. It's a lovely place though.
It was still only 2:00 so I decided to keep going around the lake. Many vacation homes and rentals and various lake-related establishments. Also Wellington State Park, with a sign announcing this Saturday Navy SEALS would be there. Turns out it's a regular event called Swim with a Mission and last year they had 3000 people there. I'm glad I'll be in a different part of the state to avoid the crowd.
I've seen daylilies everywhere. It seems to be the favorite garden plant in this part of the state, at homes and offices and government buildings - they're everywhere. And very cheerful. I remember my mom liked them a lot.
The only real problem with this RV park is there's not much shade. And we're down in a bowl so I think the heat intensifies. When we got back, I decided to forget trying to be conservation/nature minded and closed all the windows and turned on the AC and left it on all night. Sometimes you've just got to hunker down.
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