Labor Day usually offers a respite from labor. Instead, on September 7, 2009, I clambered over moss-covered hills, tripped over exposed tree roots and drove up the highest peak in the Northeast. Restful? Not quite. Rejuvenating? Entirely.
Here are some photes from this trek.
We were definitely not in Boston anymore.
The world with which I am most familiar is the modern, civilized one. It is bizarre to me worlds like this are the most familiar to some others.
The "Old Man in the Mountain," a natural formation of rocks so organized as to resemble an old man's profile, once lived here. Old age and free radicals eventually caught up with him--I wonder if the proximity of a pretty busy highway had anything to do with it--and he took a tumble. A la Humpty Dumpty, he was never put back together again.
Phoenix, my little short-haired Dachshund, daring me to just try and keep up with him.
A little taste of white water.
Not yet time for the leaves to turn. Knowing New England falls, I was just a few days early.
The waterfall for which the little park/trail was named: Bridal Veil. (Did you know there are lot of such-named parks/trails across the U.S.?)
Random fun fact: Bette Davis fell in love with man who worked as a guide in the area and married him. When he died, she placed a plaque dedicated to his memory, "The Keeper of Stray Ladies." I managed not to find this plaque hidden among the many rocks along the trail. Not really a surprise. If you head that way, I wish you better luck.
Phoenix enjoyed playing on and in between the slippery rocks.
The wondrous imagination of nature.
A view from Mt. Washington. Still below the tree line.
Another view. This time from the top. Too chilly/exposed for trees at this point.
I got a little chuckle out of this. Maybe I'm a fifteen-year-old boy at heart.
Pretty tall,for the Northeast anyway.
The cloud coverage was slightly eerie.
Young love above the alpine line. Looks smaller than it feels.
Two feet back well below the alpine line. Look at these blue skies. The clouds deceived me!
Returning to the world I know.
finis.
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