The Silence of the North

Priscille and I have been vacationing in what people hereabouts call “up north,” in the environs of Meredith, Center Harbor, and Moultonborough, New Hampshire. 

These communities are only a few of the many small, yet numerous towns huddled in nature’s nooks and crannies about thirty miles south of the White Mountain National Forest. 

They are hard-working, resort towns that hug the craggy, irregular, granite encrusted shores of Lake Winnipesaukee, a 70-plus square mile remnant of the last glacial period, a body of water that one of Center Harbor’s eighteenth century luminaries – in typically understated Yankee fashion – referred to as “the big pond.”

Bidding Adieu to the Grand Dame of the Lakes Region

Shortly after dawn, the morning greeted me with a palette of subdued tones which painted the wide expanses of the mirror-still waters of Lake Winnipesaukee with tints of gun-barrel gray.

The Mt. Washington as it steams towards Center Harbor, NH

A solid dome of sky hung closely over the surrounding mountains and islands, all of which seemed to be snuggling together, as if not wanting to wake up to face the imminent threat of the damaging high winds and rain predicted to reach this region from Hurricane Irene’s planned onslaught as it roars up the eastern seaboard.

I brewed a pot of java and filled a second filter with ground coffee which I put aside in anticipation of the needs of the rest of the family which would soon be falling out of bed, one by one, in the next couple of hours.

Coffee pot turned on, I walked out to the reliable Subaru waiting for me on the gravel driveway, backed out and drove across the small arched bridge connecting Black Cat Island to the mainland.  A short drive onto Route 25 took me to the local Baygulls bakery at Center Harbor, where I purchased freshly baked bagels and muffins for the sleepyheads.

A Bit of a Break

It’s far from the famous beaches of the New Jersey Shore and not well-known to people south of New England: Lake Winnipesaukee is about 100 miles north of Boston in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire where the classic cinematic masterpiece “On Golden Pond” was filmed.

This massive island-studded glacial lake covers 69 square miles and is encircled by low-lying ranges south of the White Mountains which, in turn, lie about an hour or so ‘up north,’ as Granite State natives are fond of saying.

On the way up we spied license plates from states like Maryland and Virginia, but none from New Jersey. Nonetheless, the region is well-known in the New England states and in eastern Canada for its great vacation and recreational facilities. Despite the condition of the down-trodden economy nationally, recreational facilities of all types in this area seem to be doing well.

Last night at Canoe’s, a highly popular restaurant in Center Harbor, we made the mistake of pulling into the parking lot without a reservation: 45 minutes to wait for seating. Too hungry for that, we scooted down to the Town Docks in Meredith where all the outdoor tables were in use, but only a 15-minute wait.  If you like lobster at a reasonable price, this is one of the places to patronize.

A New England favorite is the ubiquitous lobster roll. No chintzy servings of that tasty crustacean are allowed – not if you want to stay in business, that is. Served in a plain hot dog roll which disappears under a mound of large, lightly seasoned lobster chunks, you get a treat that goes well with your favorite cold beverage.

Thanks for reading, and have a good rest-of-the summer. If you don’t hear from me as regularly in the next week or so, it’s because I’ll be chilling out.

Photo:  An early morning view from Black Cat Island into the wide-open expanse of Lake Winnipesaukee which stretches 21 miles long (by Dick Bergeron).

The Sounds of the Lake

On Monday, I sat about ten feet from the water on one of the many private vacation mini-shores of Lake Winnipesaukee – about 74 square miles of refreshing glacial water dotted with well over 100 islands, large and small – a benefit left behind by a long-ago ice age. It’s a popular vacation attraction for New England residents, Canadians, and others ‘from away’ who know of its secrets.

Reading Masters and Commanders in an old wooden beach chair, I paused to listen and to observe. Straight ahead, a small sailboat glided noiselessly by in the distance, disturbing nothing. To my right, along the edge of a private little cove, a kayaker paddled his way around a small granitic outcrop.

Power boats hadn’t come out in force yet and, when they did, their engines were muffled from the distance offered by no-wake-zone rules which keep boating enthusiasts away from shorelines and prevent them from gunning their craft full throttle until they reach the lake’s deeper, wide-open section called ‘The Broads.’

Even now, in the afternoon, after a drenching 10-minute rainstorm, boats passing by are barely audible. (A lot of boats at any one time in this inlet overlooking the Ossipee Mountains constitutes perhaps six or seven. Don’t think NJ congestion!)

It’s very relaxing here: Water laps gently at the sandy shore, rising intermittently as distant water craft create a mild series of harmless, low-peaked waves. Large stones line the swimming beach, preventing erosion to the sitting area. Granite is ubiquitous. Locally, you can purchase a top-quality, last-forever lamppost hewn from stone for $225.

Keep safe and give yourself a break. Mom always cautioned me, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Same for the ladies!

(Photo by Dick Bergeron, July 2009)

After the Storm

Friday, 24 hours after torrential rains battered the Lakes Region of New Hampshire, morning light dawned bright and clear, and the sun burned off any remnants of mist hanging over the Ossipee Mountain ridge, just across the water. By mid-morning, the rainy dreariness which had covered the lake the day before transformed itself into brilliantly blue sky, with sharp green forest lining the opposite shore; and the lake glistened with calm, welcoming water – barely a ripple breaking the surface.

Time for a walk! Out of the driveway and onto Eagle Shore Road, Priscille and I headed east to Black Cat Island, a small, densely-treed granitic point just off Moultonborough Neck. The access to Black Cat is by way of a steeply arched bridge which permits boats to transit under. It’s a good spot to linger briefly and to enjoy the water and wood vistas.

In such a pristine environment, a person’s mind and thoughts don’t wander much to events in the outside world. Somehow, the race for the presidency gets put into its proper perspective.

The walk around the circumference of the island is scenic, with breaks in the trees where the beauty of the lake beckons a walker to linger. Vacationers and Lake People wave as they drive by, off to daily errands. This is not a place for a frenzied, what-are-we-going-to-do-next vacation. People are friendly and they express it.

Our refreshing walk was somewhere under 3 miles up and down the hillocks of the road. About 60 minutes later, after a second scenic stop on the arched bridge over to Black Cat Island, we returned to our place refreshed for meeting the rest of the day.

The Lake and the Shore

The distance between our favorite seashore vacation haunt, Cape May, New Jersey, and our favorite freshwater retreat, Lake Winnipesaukee, in mid-central New Hampshire, is about 550 road miles.

However, that difference reflects more than merely geographic distance. The Lakes Region of N.H., about an hour south of the White Mountains National Forest, offers not only recreation and dining: Its relative vastness and isolation forces a person to stop and to seep in the deep, elemental forces of nature. You won’t get elbowed out by anyone else here.

Any person who is active and fit can easily be challenged and rewarded by trekking up mountain trails towards peaks ranging in height to over 6000 feet. Big, ornery ones, like Mount Washington which creates its own weather patterns that can turn from sunny to dangerously nasty in a couple of minutes, are best left to professional climbers.

There are plenty of smaller mountains, like Mt. Major at Winnipesaukee’s southern end, which attract thousands of day climbers, including families and camping groups, each year.

The only traffic problem you’ll have around here occurs on a rainy day, for example, when the light at the four corners on Route 25, in the center of Meredith, causes cars to back up for a couple of miles, as house-bound vacationers seek diversion for themselves and their kids at nearby amusement centers and shopping emporiums.