Oh, yes. We left Concord, New Hampshire and began coming down out of the mountains, toward the sea. One final word on the Adirondack Mountains we left behind us. A travel brochure I picked up informs me that Adirondack National Park has over six million acres, is one mile high, holds 30,000 miles of streams, 1,000 miles of rivers, 3,000 ponds and lakes, and 2,000 miles of trails.
It's a big place. And very big with hikers and bikers and all manner of nature enthusiast. My father, who will be 80 years young at the end of this trip, no longer qualifies for any of those activities. But we cheered them on as we motored up and down those big, big hills.
We arrived in Portsmouth, New Hampshire before noon and stopped at the re-created village of Strawbery Banke, which was the original name of Portsmouth. And just goes to show how spelling has changed over the years. Here there were a good many houses restored to their late 1700s, or 1800s, or even early 1900s condition. The big difference, however, was the houses were only restored ... not moved. Every single house sat where it originally had back in the day. We walked through the very same ground that those settlers did when the town was just a small port - so small the shipping yard was called "Puddle Dock" - and enjoyed the weight of history as we moved through each home's exhibits. (The picture above is my Dad with one of the "characters" of Strawbery Banke - Sarah Goodwin, the mayor's wife, who kept a lovely Victorian garden.)
From there it was across the river and on to meet one of Dad's chat room friends near Rockland, Maine.
As always find photos of the trip at my Facebook fan page here. Click "Photos" and then "The Road to Nova Scotia."
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