The drive started late- my fault as per usual. I packed the last minute in the spirit of Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes fame (Last minute panic is my motivation) and drove with my girlfriend to celebrate our 2 year anniversary in New Hampshire. Our destination was The Inn at Thorn Hill, a highly praised bed and breakfast near the White Mountains. Before Thorn Inn (I keep butchering the name to the irritation of the staff) she had agreed to suffer through one overnight on the beaches of Saco River. Campsites dot the river, and people canoe their way to a point of their choosing to set up for the night.
An hour’s drive from Saco I made an executive decision and reserved another night at Thorn Inn before arriving at Saco. The weather forecast hinted at a rough night if we chose to camp. The Inn nestled on top of a hill with a view of the Presidential Range from our room’s window. The first night spent at this Inn was filled with amazing food and lazy days. We could have taken the opportunity to explore the surrounding area, but instead we collapsed in the Inn, tired and hungry from the journey. It would be a full 12 hours from waking up before we had our first and last meal of the day at the Inn’s amazing dining.
The next day was spent exploring the surrounding area, which included a jaunt up one of the random mountains in the area. The peak of the mountain was masked in a thick, heavy fog. It gave me the impression of filtering through Silent Hill. A light wind created the impression that the sapling branches were hands in the mist, reaching out to brush against us.
We spent a short amount of time in the woods. This trip was decidedly one of laziness and not exploration. As we left the area, found myself thinking about H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness. Directory Guillermo del Toro of Hellboy and Pan’s Labyrinth fame is attempting to get a movie adaption greenlit. Knowing del Toro’s work, I’m excited to see the first decent H.P. Lovecraft story film adaption.
Through the fog we wandered for a while. The peak was oddly lacking in wildlife ambient noise.
Fast forward 2 weeks later, I’m back in NH. This time I find myself camping next to calm waters which served as a mosquito habitat. In true fashion we arrive to the campsite later than anticipated. This is a recurrent theme in my life. Setting up my tent was a 2 minute ordeal. For my sister it might have been easier to fashion a log cabin from the trees surrounding our site. Her tent is a cheap 8 person monstrosity that we affectionately named the Circus Tent. It is a beast of a tent that has a built in doggie section and it takes in water when rained upon. Our group had a total of four tents plus the Circus Tent, and I’m confident that the Circus Tent could contain all of our tents in the cavern of its interior. My sister shared the Circus Tent with her boyfriend. By themselves. We unanimously decided that the dogs would shelter in the Circus Tent.
Assembling it requires a PhD in Patience. My sister glares at Pine as he takes a slug out of the wineskin.
After fueling his body for exertion Pine aids Lilia in erecting the Circus Tent. As Pine worked on the rear of the tent, Lilia hammered stakes into the ground.
Hinlan sat at the fire and watched the antics. He arrived before everyone and had set his tent out and started the campfire early on.
After attacking the pegs with a rock for a length of time I hand her my tomahawk. Events progressed at renewed speed.
The wineskin found her way to Jackie, who sat by the fire while I ran around gathering firewood with my tomahawk. Hinlan searched one side while I took a different direction.
Tommy and I took some time with taking pictures, but dusk came and went without waiting on us. Unfazed, we both agreed to take tomorrow’s dusk to work on composition and other photography techniques. We retired to the campsite to drink an excess amount of alcohol and proceeded to fall into a deep sleep.
The sound of heavy rain woke us from our rest, and after rechecking the updated forecast a decision was made to abandon camp. Rain was going to become heavier, and thunderstorms loomed at nightfall. I would have been happy with reading inside my tent, but between a high possibility of the Circus Tent taking in water and the dogs being miserable we figured to redo a group trip some other time. Luckily it wasn’t a backpacking trip, or we wouldn’t have much choice in the matter. The trip ended early, but plans were made for another woodland jaunt. We returned home with wet dogs and mosquito bites in tow.
