New Hampshire is as wonderful as I expected, and the riding conditions have been excellent. I just crossed Kancamagus Pass at 2,855 ft., the highest I will be until the Rockies--hard to believe. Yesterday I laid low in the North Woods by Red Eagle Pond, my own private Walden--with beaver, loon and all. Mist on the water in the morning and very few mosquitoes. My knee seems to be improving nicely, so it's on into the mountains of Vermont by tomorrow. These little eastern states go quickly.
Had a sad little going away party today for my cycling shoes--my Seven League Booties, they were. The sole was starting to delaminate, so rather than face a catastrophic meltdown in the sticks, I picked up a nice pair of Luis Garneau mtb. shoes--didn't have to alter them for my cleats, either--though I started to before getting smart and just slapping them on. I know own a pair of EIGHT League Booties, yeah, you betcha sweetheart.
I've picked up the habit of naming my camps as the Bushmen in Africa do. The last, was Camp Thoreau. I'd upload some photos, but even here in the Internet cafe ($$), the computer is locked out. Gotta get into those backwoods libraries, which seem to be more open with this sort of thing.
I'm finding this life rather compelling, getting up each day, a new road ahead, places and people never seen before. The effort, too, is clearing my head. I like the simple set of duties each day.
On my next entry, I'm going to start a GearHead's Corner for folks who want to know how my selections have held up on the road--what I like and not, etc. Stay tuned to your monitors for more riveting action from the road.
This is today's Dispatch from the Frontier.