I've been coming to New Hampshire since 1969; Sally's visits started in 1947. Since 1994, from some time in May to some time in October each year, we have lived at "Camp" - a one room building (with loft) on ninety-two acres of woods at the very end of a dirt track in New Hampshire's "North Country". [The track is not quite 4-wheel drive mandatory, but good clearance under a vehicle is a must, and 4-wheel drive can be handy.] Our heat comes from a 1940s-vintage wood stove from Portland, Maine. Our water is from a spring in the woods, brought to the house in buckets - icy cold and fresh whenever we want it. For many years, our evening light was supplied by kerosene lamps, but now we often just use AAA battery powered miners' headlamps. We have an outhouse. Until 1999, the nearest telephone was about three miles away, which is also the distance to the closest year-round residence, and also the nearest paved road. At night, it is very dark and very quiet. In the day, it is very quiet.
Don't get the wrong idea: this is not "wilderness primeval", and we are not rugged survivalists. We have a propane-powered refrigerator, and get most of our food in the supermarkets on the Berlin-Gorham strip. We have portable radios, and even a small TV that we crank up on occasion. A few years ago, we purchased a generator that we use a little, mostly to power a fluorescent strip light on October evenings when the nights are just a little too long for kerosene or headlamp radiance, alone. [We also use it with the TV, mostly to watch golf tournaments.] Three-quarters of a mile through the woods, we even have a neighbor, another part-time "camper" like ourselves. All things considered, we are almost civilized.
Why do we live this way, one foot in and one foot out of the "modern world"? Simple answer: we like it. We are playing. It is hard play - almost every part of living is a little tougher than "at home". It is challenging play - you never have exactly what you need, and what you do need that you don't have is generally a long way away. It can be dangerous play, just because of our isolation, but living anywhere is dangerous in one way or another, and our dangers can be limited through careful planning.
On the other hand, it is peaceful play - in most cases, we have the ability to decide how much of "the outside" we want to let in. It is interesting play - you never know exactly what a new day will bring. It can be exciting play - weather, animals, and people in the back country can do (as they say) "the darndest things".
We keep a journal at Camp. In it, we record: weather data; lists of birds, mammals, reptiles and amphibians seen; when plants bloom, and where; how the bugs are [usually bad, if we take time to mention them]; what we did that day; and - usually the highlight entries - "interesting events". Re-reading these notes is always fun for us, conjuring up memories of the specific events recorded, but also setting us reminiscing about how alike or how different that particular day was from others we remember.
I think you might be interested in some of these notes, too. If you don't know New Hampshire's country "north of the notches", maybe I can convey to you some of the flavor of this very special but little-known region. If you are familiar with Coos County ["kooz" in Oregon, but "co-oss" in New Hampshire], I suspect you will be able to identify with the sights, sounds and feelings I have to share. If you are a "North Country" native, you may be interested in how someone from "away" [and, after thirty-five years, I realize that in many ways that I'm still from "away"] views your backyard.
On the pages that follow, I've selected journal quotes on a variety of subjects - wildlife, history , people, weather, local events, politics, economy - whatever took my fancy as I skimmed through thirty years of remembrances. Then I've elaborated on either the specific journal entry, or [more commonly] I've wandered off on parallel tracks that compliment and/or expand on the original observation. I offer the result to you as my personal homage to one of my favorite places, New Hampshire's "North Country".