October 1 - “Kancamagus”

Did I mention yesterday that it was cold?  Yep. I just checked. I said 45 degrees. A record for this trip, for sure. Winter in Galveston, right?  Scratch that “record” part. Pencil in 34 degrees. Brrrrr. And … we are headed farther north. Why not?

 

Well, now. Isn’t this interesting? On our way to the Kancamagus Highway (say that seven time very fast), we passed Woodstock again. Different Woodstock. Still not THAT Woodstock. Just “Woodstock… on tour.”

 

This Kancamagus Highway was the whole reason we came on the trip. And honestly, it didn’t disappoint. We saw more than one tree that was still full of red and orange leaves … not to mention a few pretty spectacular waterfalls (so, can we skip Niagara Falls now?) and the stream that went alongside. And several wild turkeys showed up. But no mooses. No such thing. I’ve been telling you all along. It’s a trick …

 

Once we left the “Kanc,” as the locals call the highway up there, we headed for our first-night-in-Maine stop. But to get there, we had to wind our way through Coon Dog Cemetery country again. We stopped in Sweden, Maine, at a roadside “pick yer own apples” fruit stand. We didn’t pick any, but we did get some hot apple cider. Good stuff. Oh, and yet again I have taken my beautiful bride to Paris.  No. Not that one. Maine has its own version.

 

Final stop for the day was Augusta. That’s Maine, not Georgia.

 

Father, your trees up here are sure doing their job producing pretty leaves in the fall. Amen.