We wake up to dripping wet fog and are glad that we have made the decision to leave and go inland today. The weather forecast is not particularly good either in Maine or New Hampshire – the low pressure ridge is still hanging around and we can expect thunderstorms and rain wherever we go but at least in New Hampshire we can get away from the fog.
Google Maps says that the journey is 142 miles; Joe’s sat nav says it’s 192. We decide to go with Google. The sat nav is a little unreliable (or unintelligible) and likes to abandon you when you get onto anything that is not a main road. Mike shouts at her a lot. I’m afraid I swear at her even more.
The journey takes us nearly 3.5 hours even though we go on motorways for part of it – the speed limits are so much lower than in Europe – and we see an awful lot of trees. We also go through some beautiful towns – Wiscasset being the most beautiful. The route is zig-zagged due to the nature of the coastline and rivers – everything seems to go north/south rather than east/west so the journey is much longer than you think it should be when you just look at the map, but the time passes quickly because we are so interested in looking at everything around us.
We only get lost once, right at the end, when Mike forgets himself and instead of following my instructions from the printed Google Map he listens to the stupid woman on the sat nav who then immediately abandons us, but we get there with just one u-turn.
Heidi is waiting for us at Casey’s house and after a quick stop to admire the views of Lake Winnipesaukee we follow her down to the lake.
Lake Winnipesaukee is 26 miles long, enormous by UK standards, and Casey has a ‘camp’ on one of the islands in the middle of it. Heidi’s use of the words ‘camp’ and ‘bunk house’ make us wonder where we are going – will we be in tents, or in a dormitory like place all sleeping together. Since they are hosting us I think it impolite to ask. I guess I’ll find out when I get there!
She drives us to Welch Island in a 1926 Chris Craft, a beautiful motor boat, every inch of it varnished wood.
It’s just a few miles to the island and Casey is there to greet us, along with Buckley his son’s golden Labrador, who loves finding dead fish and rolling in them. He has done this today as the smell soon tells us and Heidi is forced to take him into the lake for a bath.
Heidi assures me that the water is lovely and warm. Well it may be lovely (it’s not sea water) but I am not convinced it’s warm enough. I do dip my toes in – just – although I do keep my flip flops on in case my feet should touch some slimy rocks – heaven forbid!
We spend a pleasant late afternoon with some wine, beer and snacks in lovely sunshine, but the promised weather just can’t wait to roll in and half way through our evening meal the heavens open and we have to retire to finish the meal inside.
I have discovered that ‘camp’ is a rustic summer house – not a tent! The bunkhouse, however, is just that. A sort of shed in the back garden filled with bunks and beds with electricity but no running water or plumbing. Heidi and Casey kindly give up their bed in the house and retire to the bunkhouse to sleep. Phew! I don’t have the worry of walking through the woods in the middle of the night if I need the loo!
Position: 43 deg 15 min N, 69 deg 38 min W
Distance so far: 1786 miles
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