January and February have been filled with long hours of work and stress and lousy weather. Whine.
My clothes are too snug, I’m out of breath after three flights of stairs, and I hate icy roads. Whine, whine, whine.
When the weather was inviting the other day (and please, no scolding me for being unprepared for all conditions), I forced myself to shake off my winter torpor for little while. I headed to Mine Falls Park in Nashua for a loop around the cove near the Millyard.
The cove at Mine Falls Park, awaiting the springtime return of the swans. Nashua Millyard in background.
Hard to believe what a difference that made. After a couple of miles, my jeans were still snug and I still had a pile of work waiting for me. But gradually, as I walked along the canal path in crunchy snow, the whines went away. Fresh air and near-silence worked wonders.
I’ll still need a push to get out the door this season, but Mine Falls Park will remind me that the effort pays off.
Mine Falls Park after first snowfall, December 2013
In mid-December, there’s finally been a snowfall in southern New Hampshire just heavy enough to put a base on the trails. It’s late fall, and winter is impatient to elbow its way in. This morning I spent an hour at Mine Falls Park in Nashua enjoying the crunch of snow beneath my sneaker-clad feet. The canal is almost-but-not-quite frozen over, and the muskrats have taken refuge wherever muskrats like to go.
Sometimes the season’s first snow pounds us. The Halloween Eve snowstorm in 2011 dumped a foot of heavy wet snow, uprooted countless oaks & maples, and left me without electricity for four days. Other years are more like this one, with a couple of tentative snowfalls, just to get us ready for the inevitable big ones.
I can pull my snowshoes out of their little nook in the basement and put them closer to the door. I can look forward to hiking on those brilliant cloudless days that follow snowstorms. My favorite cross-country ski area has announced that it’ll be open for business this weekend, which means that their snowshoe trails are ready to go as well. A prime memory for me is a midweek trip there a few years ago, the day or two after a storm. There were a few skiers around, but I was the only snowshoer in sight, and I had all that wonderful powder to myself on the woods trails. Solitude, beauty, sunshine, and unbroken powder: does it get any better in the winter?
When the Olympics are broadcast shortly, I will ooh and ahh over the alpine skiers. I’ll cheer for the cross-country skiers, who are better-conditioned than most of us could ever hope to be. I’ll watch the snowboarding, which for my money is the most fun event to watch at the Olympics. But eventually, I’ll tire of being a spectator. The snowshoes will be right by the basement door, waiting for me.
I recently made it to one of my area’s more popular trails for the first time in ages. It’s another one of the southern New Hampshire treasures easy to take for granted.
When a late start forced a friend and me to change our plan to hike upstate last week, she suggested lower Purgatory Falls as a nearby hike that we could enjoy with her dogs. Sounded good to me. We started at the lower end of Purgatory Brook, at the trailhead on Purgatory Road in near the Milford/Lyndeborough town line a short distance north of North River Road. We had very little company, but my friend assured me that it can get crowded on weekends and in warmer weather.
I’m not used to hiking with dogs, and my friend brought her black Lab and her Shar-Pei. Both dogs were familiar with the trail and could hardly wait to jump out of the car at the trailhead. We decided to use leashes at first, until we were sure no other dogs were around. The Shar-Pei walked me – I can’t pretend I was controlling the dog! He was a calm and poky thing compared to his fellow pup, though. Maggie the Lab ran ahead of us, around us, into the brook and back again. A good time was had by all.
We took an hour to get to the upper Falls via a gentle uphill trail, but that was with plenty of doggie diversions. The walk back to the car was quicker, with the dogs a little less rambunctious.
I have relatives living in the village near upper Falls, and they once took me on a walk (a Thanksgiving day, as I recall) to see that spot. The walk from the village along unpaved Upham Road took us past the Purgatory Falls Fish and Game Club, at which point the road became a clear trail. It’s pleasant any time of year, I’m sure, although I’d pack the usual bug repellent in spring or summer.
Last weekend, I headed with a friend to the four-mile loop trail over Welch and Dickey mountains (elev. 2605 and 2734), with a trailhead off NH Route 49 a short distance west of Waterville Valley. This is a well-traveled trail, mentioned in guidebooks as being great for families. I tried to imagine how crowded the parking lot must be on summer weekends. This is fall, though; the leaves are past peak and the morning temps are in the thirties or lower. There were only three other cars in the lot Saturday morning, assuring us a crowd-free day.
Despite umpteen operations on her knees, my companion was indefatigable, besides being a great deal more fit than I am. She refused to be discouraged by my slow pace and overall wimpiness on hills. We had a great time. With stops along the way, including repairing a cairn I accidentally stumbled into, it took us about four hours to complete the hike.
We were greeted on the summit ledges by a trace of flurries. There was just enough snow in the air to hint that fall might give way to winter someday. Views from both peaks made me want to cheer, even with mountain slopes clothed in fading foliage.
I leave a detailed trail description to the guidebooks that are readily available. My friend had an AMC book with a description of Welch-Dickey, while I had Daniel Doan’s Fifty Hikes in the White Mountains. The trailhead is in White Mountain National Forest, and there’s an iron ranger in the parking lot to receive the modest day-pass fee. There’s a very clean pit toilet there, too, which is always a plus.
A friend and I have been trying for several weekends to arrange a hike, with last-minute work commitments sabotaging every trip so far. Still, we keep planning. When I suggested Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge, she said “where’s that?” I was going to refer her to a blog post here, when I discovered to my embarrassment that I hadn’t yet written about this lovely place, despite my fondness for it. Oops. Making up for lost time here.
The refuge straddles the towns of Jefferson and Whitefield. To get there from southern New Hampshire, I take I-93 through Franconia Notch and then U.S. 3 through Twin Mountain into Whitefield. There’s a airport sign in Whitefield pointing me to a right turn off route 3. A drive around the south side of the one-runway airport brings me to a little biomass plant, across from which is a well-marked parking area for Pondicherry.
Cherry Pond, with Presidential range at left and Mount Martha at right. All photos by Ellen Kolb.
Pondicherry trailhead, on Airport Road in Whitefield.
From the parking area, one could be forgiven for thinking “is that all there is?” The Presidential Rail Trail extends north from there, looking like a long dirt boulevard. (In fact, it’s a busy snowmobile thoroughfare in the winter.) Cherry Pond is a mile and a half away via the trail. During my April visits, little spring flowers are usually peeking up on the sunny side of the trail when there’s still ice along the shaded side. I seldom have company here, and there is little noise except for the occasional small plane landing at the airport.
The walk into the refuge is tree-lined, making the sudden view of the Presidentials all the more startling when I arrive at Cherry Pond. I never get tired of that view.
Nearby are Little Cherry Pond and the adjacent wetlands. The Cohos Trail passes through, piggybacking on the Presidential Rail Trail for some distance. There’s an observation platform, affording excellent views for the birdwatcher who remembered to bring her binoculars. Critters of all sizes, from beaver to moose, find Pondicherry a congenial place.
An active (but not busy) rail line runs through the property as well. I sometimes see a few freight cars parked on a nearby siding. This quiet location still bears the old rail-line name Waumbek Junction.
Pliny Range, north of Cherry Pond
The Pondicherry refuge is a cooperative venture of state, federal, and private organizations. A good guide to the Pondicherry trails can be found in the Jefferson Dome chapter of Kim Nilsen’s book 50 Hikes North of the White Mountains.
Update, 2026: Since I wrote this entry, Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge has found its way into many of my posts. I describe a recent visit in “One way to celebrate, part II,” with summertime photos.
I’m much obliged to reader Steve for bringing Manchester Cedar Swamp Preserve to my attention. This Nature Conservancy property straddles the line between Hooksett and Manchester, New Hampshire, not far from Hackett Hill Road. Among its features is the giant rhododendron, which happens to be a July bloomer.
Parking is in a well-signed spot on Countryside Boulevard, about a half-mile from Hackett Hill Road. Bring your bug repellent and enjoy the walk, but please, no dogs. The trail system is 1.8 miles long.
Kiosk at parking areaLily, Manchester Cedar SwampGiant rhododendronRhododendrons in white and palest pink
Granite State Walker 