North Conway

This morning I drove to the base of Mount Washington, where the cog railway begins its journey to the 6,288 foot summit. On the way is the Ammonoosuc upper falls, which I stopped to photograph in the soft morning light.

The cog railway is an historical construction, and two original steam engines still pull trains up the mountain. Several new engines, powered by the more ecological alternative, bio-diesel allow many more runs per day. I booked a seat on one of the bio-diesel trains. We quickly ascended into think fog. Mount Washington is known for the worst weather in the world. As well, it holds the record for the highest wind ever observed by man, at 231 mph, observed during the great storm of April 12, 1934. Only about 60 days a year are at all clear on the summit. We were lucky and scored one of those days. The nominal temperature at the top was 38.3 degrees, 25 degrees with the 41 mph wind chill. I was glad I had dragged out my jacket, hat and gloves.

In theory one should be able to see into five states from the summit; in practice, even on a clear day, only one direction is visible, the rest is still obscured by scudding clouds. We had a clear view to the east, of, I think the Black Mountains. The Appalachian Trail also crosses Mount Washington and is reportedly one of the most difficult sections.

On the way down, I rode the steam engine powered train. You could smell the coal-generated smoke. We were able to see the presidential mountain ranges on both sides and by the time we reached the bottom, the day was sunny and clear.

I took a midday break to rest and download, then headed out again in the late afternoon. I drove the Kankamangus highway looking for moose and water features. My end goal was Flume Gorge . However, it turned out they operate on business hours - 9-5 and require another one of those pesky timed entrance tickets. I arrived at 4:50 and did not even try. I’m sure it is a stunning geographical feature, but those are lousy hours for photography anyway. I also did not try to photograph Lower Falls as it was overrun with people climbing in and around the area. Instead I pulled off the road and climbed down to an isolated spot to photograph a section of river that had fallen into shade. No moose, just a lot of signs to watch out for them.

Tomorrow I cross over into Vermont, the end goal of passing back through New Hampshire.