We left at 3:00 in the afternoon; a rough start. There were no remnants of the storm outside, not even any puddles. But we had heard from a group of gentleman staying at the motel that it had been a nightmare the evening before. They had anticipated on climbing a few 4,000 ft. peaks in the area but the downpours had created flooding and dangers making it nearly impossible. They planned on just relaxing in Lincoln for the next few days. Ain't a damn thing wrong with that, I told em.
The first hint that things weren't all quite right was in respect to the stream we followed on our climb. It was a torrent of powerful moving water and it even appeared to have taken out a bridge. Ominously, it was here that it began to rain once again.
"I'm having fun! I'm having fun!" I yelled over the wind and the rain to the orange man directing traffic.
He laughed a big toothy grin and hugged his belly as he did. A jovial man.
"Can't be far now, right?" I laughed to the next orange traffic man, his raincoat fluttering in the gusts.
"Oh you got a ways t-"
"No, don't tell me!" I yelled, still laughing.
This man with the wet, foggy glasses also smiled good-naturedly and laughed along with me.
I waited for Josh and Mike as the rain came down harder. I sent out a team text message:
"Deep down in my heart... i know theres ice cream on the other side of this mountain."
It was quite a rough climb to the top but finally, we got the clean downhill we'd been waiting for. A beautiful lake sat next to us, which we stopped to admire. Water flowed down from the mountain above us, ebbing its way through the etches in the rock.
The clouds parted and the sun began to peek it's way out in the distance. Ole Solaris finally smiled on us. It was like night and day. The wind flew through my hair, congratulating me on a climb well done. One more short climb and it was all downhill into the town of North Haverhill.
Mike and I stopped at a picturesque landscape view of the mountains and everything between. A sheep turned to stare at us and grunted a burp of discontentment. It didn't seem to like us being so close to it's home. The ball of wool went into it's barn where it continued to stare at us, only breaking eye contact when we went to stare back.
We met the man named Dick who owned the acres of land. A bald man with small purple scabs on his tan skin, he peered beyond his maroon-shaded glasses to look at us.
"Oh sure, enjoy the view as long as you like. We get bikers all the time."
"Thank you very much, sir" said Josh. "Uh, is there anywhere to get food in Haverville?"
Dick stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"No. No, there isn't actually. There's a pretty good Chinese place north about five miles but otherwise... you'd wanna go to Bradford."
"What about ice cream?" I asked, mouth salivating.
"Oh yeah, there's a pretty good one north a few miles."
I selected the food in Bradford... I shouldn't have. I took the boys on a death march over 12 miles to the town of Bradford, out of New Hampshire and into Vermont. The ice cream was right there... and I abandoned that sweet little treat. Instead, I vouched for allowing my stomach to digest itself.
However, on the way to Bradford, Josh and I did find a cute baby calf hanging out with an adult horse... doing weird shit.
The Connecticut River Valley is where the White Mountains spit us out and it is the ideal place for farmers. The river provides the most lush and green, flourishing land. The soil is fertile. It's pretty beautiful.
Finally, in Bradford, we found a Subway... but no ice cream. It was here that Josh found hosts on WarmShowers by the names of Bud and Cathy.
"So what's the address?" I asked.
"1034 South Rd." responded Josh.
Suddenly, the boy at the register turned to us with gaping eyes, "You guys say South Rd?"
"Uh, yeah."
A dramatic two seconds ticked by and he smiled a bit.
"South road... Well, it's about a 5 mile road. Then, a lot of it goes like this," he then made a gesture with his hand indicating an 80* line. "Yeah... lots of ways to get there... but ya gotta climb on every route."
"Sounds like fun," I said.
"I'm bout to just sleep in this yard here," said Mike gesturing at a random yard, about ten minutes into the climb.
"This is no joke," said Josh.
After half an hour of climbing, a sudden break in the uphill occured. We yipped an hollered, flying downhill. The horizon was illuminated with the dying sun, and we could see over twenty or thirty miles into the distance. Absolute beauty.
Bud and Cathy welcomed us into their old log home built in 1825. Heavy cyclers, they have many stories about their travels around the country. Cathy is a Pre-K principal and local librarian along with Bud. Both are retired and loving it. They've already provided us with an alternate route tomorrow that's supposed to be really scenic. Very warm and friendly hosts, these WarmShowers events are the greatest. My only gripe is that we only had an hour to talk to them. Hopefully, I can get a picture of the two for tomorrow.
We've got our tents set up underneath the stars and man, they are bright.
And I did.
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