Live free or die (trying).

At least that’s how it felt yesterday when we were searching the White Mountain National Forest for waterfalls. Let’s just say that New Hampshire isn’t big on signage or directions that make sense. Eventually frustrated by the endless wondering, we turned around and went in search of covered bridges. Which we found in absolute abundance.

But waterfalls? No, um, not so much. How in the world are two girls from Tennessee by way of Missouri and Kentucky supposed to find waterfalls with directions like “park in the lot on Rt. 49” (what lot on Rt. 49?) “and walk up to the falls.” Or best yet, “It’s just off of 175 near Campton.” Yeah, I think we drove all over 175 near Campton. It would help somewhat if there were signs saying, “Hey, this natural wonder we’ve been telling you about is coming up!” Because honestly, after driving in circles in the White Mountain National Forest, we don’t believe your stinking falls exist. At all.

Despite those aggravations, yesterday was good. We started by driving into Vermont. I mean when you’re this close, why not just drive across the border and say you’ve been there? So we did, and happened upon a cute little town with a town square and a memorial to local veterans from all wars, including the “Rebellion,” which history calls the Civil War and some Southerners refer to as “the War of Northern Aggression.” Yeah, we ain’t in the South no more.

Then, we drove down to the White Mountain National Forest region to take in some of the natural wonders and maybe see some covered bridges. You’ve heard about that frustration in abundance. The night ended with a supper of bread and cheese (and cookies on my part) and some TV with some other people staying at the inn.

Today, we head toward Boston. We’ve got plans to walk the Freedom Trail and eat some good seafood. Other than that, we’re playing it by ear. And we’re going to have fun and live free or die trying!