Destinations & Things To Do

Day 94: Town Chores and Velvet Rocks

Published

5 hours ago

August 9, 2025

Hanover Food Coop, NH (1756.7) to Trescott Road (1706.6)
1148 feet ascent, 748 feet descent

Today is a nero experiment. The Historian’s back hurts and he is still struggling with getting enough food to run his engine. With our Katahdin climb scheduled so soon, my my engine is running overtime. We decided to do errands in town and then The Historian will drop me off for a quick slack pack to pick up some of the disjointed bits and pieces we have not hiked in the gap between Hanover and Glencliff.

I missed this section in 1975 because The Historian had limited time for a visit with me. Either I could skip ahead to the start of the Whites, or he would have to miss the Presidentials. I decided to skip ahead for love. During the time we lived in Hanover in the 1990s, we day hiked some of the missing parts but not all of them. I am filling in the pieces now.

Morning Garden Patrol

We had another peaceful morning with our friends enjoying their multi-generational family life. One thing we particularly enjoyed is the early morning garden inspections.

A few years ago we had a large raised bed garden spread out along a .15 mile meandering path. Each morning we would take our coffee and our dog out for a lap through the garden. We have since downsized and have a small garden but we still enjoy morning coffee inspection of the garden.

Our friends have a large vegetable garden plot and multiple berry patches as well as flower gardens, fruit trees, and nut trees. Morning garden inspection made us think about our gardens past and future, and appreciate the slow and exciting process of food production.

Town Chores

After breakfast we made a list of our town chores. We have all of our meals already; they arrived in our mailed resupply. We needed to add some protien bars, rasins, m and ms, chia seeds, and protien drink. We knew we could find the very things we wanted from the Hanover Food Coop. We also needed more bug spray, available from the outfitters nearby.

The drive to town included passing over several bridges, two of them covered bridges. Even having lived in the area before, the novelty of covered bridges never wears off.

The light from inside the bridge is as much fun as seeing the bridge from the outside.

Hanover Coop

The Coop store on the Appalachian Trail is a lot smaller than I remembered. There is a large, modern supermarket version but I wanted nostalgia so we went to the original store.

The food selections were amazing, as always. It was hard not to over buy dramatically. We had some car days coming up so our over selection of food did not punish our backs.

When we got to the checkout, they asked if we were members. Low and behold, we were still in the member records from 1996.

A Snippet of Hiking

Town chores accomplished, we ate our Coop-acquired lunch in the car at the Dartmouth playing fields, literally parked on the Appalachian Trail.

After downing the last of my sparkling water, I tightened my shoe laces and took off. The Historian would drive to the next trail crossing and I would race to meet him, covering the short 4 miles as quickly as I could.

This would fill in one of the gaps and allow me to advance to the next non-contiguous needed section tomorrow.

New Terrain

I scampered along as best I could. However, the trail character was very different from Virginia. When you walk from one geographical region to the next, the changes are noticeable but more gradual. Leapfrogging 700 miles was a surprise.

My brain felt like it could move along but the surface under my feet was unfamiliar and my steps were less sure. Looking around, I was reassured by the vegetation and rocks. We love the northern mountains, in New England, and in Montana. I felt more at home than I had in a long time.

Gradually, my feet grew accustomed to the terrain and I made good progress.

Boggy Area

Virginia has swampy areas filled with water and rhododendron. New England has ponds and bogs. Today, smack in the middle of rocky, wooded uphill trail was a boggy section. Thankfully, the majority of the transit was accomplished by a bog bridge. Although it listed left and right as you passed over it, it did not sink or bob like the bog bridges of old.

In 1975, if present, bog bridges were half logs with the cut side up. They were slippery devils. Often they immediately sank when you stepped on them. Occasionally, when you stepped on one end, the other end sprang up like a teeter totter and down you would go.

Mostly Uphill Hiking

Most of the hike was uphill. I was good with that. Although the temperatures were warm, it was in the 80s with moderate humidity so it was a welcomed relief from the back-to-back Virginia heatwaves.

The trail showed little evidence of use and I saw only one other hiker. I was surprised by that since it was a nice trail right outside of town.

Wow, Glad it Wasn’t Me

As I pulled up the summit of Velvet Rocks, a SOBO who looked a little harried zoomed by me. I was somewhat surprised, as we were used to the “say hello and share trail names” routine with other thru hikers.

I called out, “Hello! Are you one of the rare, elusive SOBOs?” The hiker, who was by then past me, looked back at me and it was as if he was registering my presence for the first time. He acknowledged he was a SOBO and said he was hurrying to town.

We shared a laugh about the intensity of town-drive. I encouraged him that he was close, and told him how to find the Coop and where all the cold drinks were in the store. He was appreciative.

We passed on. Very soon I came to a long skid mark at the top of a 10 foot drop-off. I could only shake my head. The slide must have been heart-stopping. Save for a tree, he would have skidded off the cliff. No wonder he seemed a little fuzzy.

Thankfully, the tree was there to stop him. Below the tree would have been a rough landing. The tree with the blaze in the photo below is the opposite side of the same tree with the skid mark.

We all are guilty of dashing to town on occasion, but prudence is always in order. I won’t judge, maybe his shoes were worn out and he had new shoes waiting for him in town.

Velvet Rocks

I finally arrived at the aptly named Velvet Rocks. It is crazy that I never hiked here when I lived here. They are just a short distance from town and so pretty!

Meeting My Trail Magician

After passing the rocks, it was a short distance to where The Historian was waiting for me.

Just at the road crossing someone had thoughtfully left a small cooler of frozen water bottles for hikers. I looked in the cooler but didn’t take any since I was done for the day and had my very own trail magician waiting for me.

I found him sitting in a small parking lot attentively watching for my reappearance. It had been strange to hike without him, but it had been OK too.

I knew he was supporting my hike from the car as much as if he was on the trail beside me. I was grateful he had time to rest his back and keep a little weight on.

Tomorrow we will go back on the trail together to complete the hike to Glencliff. It has been good to have the time off, zeros and neros, but I miss the trail. I look forward to getting back out there and the rhythms of being on the trail and sleeping where you end up each day.

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Destinations & Things To Do

How Canicross Saved My Relationship with My Unruly Rescue Dog

Published

2 hours ago

August 9, 2025

awise

(Photo: Vect0r0vich/Getty, Abigail Wise)

Published August 9, 2025 03:08AM

During the first year of living with Halle—a German shepherd-bordie collie mix adopted at ten months old—I felt like a prisoner to my pet.

When guests came over, she believed it was her duty to drive out the invaders from our house, barking nonstop until they walked out the door. If we left her alone at home, she would panic, pace, and become destructive—I once swiftly returned after seeing her attempting to chew through her wire crate in the doggy viewing camera I’d installed. Outside, Halle screamed and threw her body against the leash when she saw another dog, overcome with strong emotions. She obsessed over rabbits and squirrels, blowing me off to pursue them; she once killed a baby bunny while leashed, snapping it up and shaking it to death before I could say “leave it.”

On the advice of trainers, I shrank our lives. I walked her early in the morning on steep, loose trails that no one else wanted to hike. Friends no longer came over to the house. If we saw a dog while we were out, I would sometimes hide with Halle behind a bush or car. In my quest to calm her down, most of my non-essential income went to trainers. One, after ten lessons with no result, suggested that perhaps some day Halle might simply “grow out of it.”

The author running with her dog, Halle (Photo: Linda Powell)

Today, more than two years after adopting Halle, we are in a better groove. Our communication is clearer, and many of her worst impulses have been tamed. I credit our success to better training advice and discovering canicross.

For those unfamiliar, canicross is the sport of trail running with your dog attached to you—and, ideally, pulling ahead. The dog wears a special harness that allows unfettered movement, which is clipped to a bungee line attached to the human’s running waist belt. Originally an off-season activity for sled dogs, handlers use similar commands to mushers, instructing their dogs to “hike” and “gee” and “haw”—AKA hurry up, go right, and go left. In recent years, the sport has taken on a life of its own, with national organizations, local groups, and races.

For Halle and me, it started as a bit of an accident. Tired of being dragged by her on our pre-dawn hikes, I made a knot in her 15-foot leash, clipped it around my waist, and ran a three-mile loop on the trails (note that I do not recommend this sketchy setup). For once, her frantic behavior was not a problem—instead, her pulling made my uphills a little easier.

Later that day, I took her on a walk through a busy park on the same long leash. She didn’t bark or lunge at the dogs; she seemed more interested in exploring and sniffing. Maybe the run removed some of her pent-up frustration.

So much of what we ask of pet dogs is in conflict with their instincts and desires. For instance: walking by our sides. Many dogs naturally walk faster than us—meeting our pace probably feels like getting stuck behind a slow driver in the left lane. Dogs want to explore, sniff, and run in their limited time outside, and walks on a short leash can’t satisfy those needs.

Of course, dogs still have to fit into our world—learning to walk nicely on a leash, come when called, potty outside, and otherwise behave are essential to living harmoniously with humans. But when dogs don’t have outlets for their natural behaviors, owners sometimes find themselves playing dog training whack-a-mole, engaged in a never-ending battle to stop problematic barking, pulling, jumping, and digging.

That’s why having a mutually enjoyable activity is so important. A shared sport bolsters the canine-human relationship, which in turn makes it easier to do necessary-but-less-fun training.

By allowing Halle to run full-steam ahead, we finally had a shared purpose: shredding the trails. I found an online class on pulling sports and ordered proper equipment. Halle learned commands for walking to the end of the leash, speeding up, slowing down, left turns, and right turns.

I taught her that sudden sniff stops were a no-no, as was dragging me down loose slopes, but those rules came relatively easily just like how we humans accept rules in sports and board games.

The author and her dog at the Paiute Meadows Trail Run (Photo: Doug C. Smith Photography)

Outside of canicross, we also focused on life skills, teaching a reliable “come” and “heel,” and practicing around dogs, squirrels, and other distractions. We used play to build impulse control, too, progressively strengthening her “drop it,” “wait,” and other commands around toys she was eager to chase.

Last fall, I met with another Reno canicross runner and her dog, and saw how all the running and training had paid off. I was nervous ahead of the run with Halle’s history of unruly and explosive behavior around dogs.

We started the run behind the other team. Halle was amped to see another dog, but she channelled her energy into pulling me up a switchback. Within 20 minutes, we were jogging and hiking close enough to have a conversation. Halle looked unsure around the new dog, but also glanced backward with worry when we lost sight of them after turning a corner—she seemed to realize we were a group and wanted to stick together. She made more progress over a one-hour run than she had over multiple training sessions with a trainer’s dog. She and Chase, the husky-pitbull mix, are now good friends.

In April, we entered our first race together in Susanville, California. Halle hunched nervously between the runners as we were crammed together at the start line. But once we started running, she was on fire. I flew the first two miles as she threw her weight into the harness—race volunteers joked that I was cheating (it was a dog-friendly race, but not explicitly canicross). She galloped past distractions she’d never encountered before, including photographers and volunteers ringing bells. After missing an unlabelled turn, we ended up running an extra mile and a half, but she was a better sport about it than me. She got her second wind after seeing a squirrel at mile five, giving me a much-needed boost.

After the race, we basked in our accomplishment. We might have botched the actual course, but we had cleared a hurdle in a larger race. In a new place amid crowds, our teamwork had shone through, and we ran together without a hitch.

Now, I’m organizing group runs in my area to build more interest in the sport. Maybe other people struggling with their pups can realize the potential and teamwork that canicross brings about.

Ula Chrobak is a freelancer mainly writing about science, the environment, and animals (especially dogs). She has a graduate degree in science communication and previously studied soil science. She lives in Reno, Nevada and enjoys hiking with her dog, climbing and mountain biking. You can see more of her work at her website, ulachrobak.com.

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Destinations & Things To Do

HGTV said you must visit Chutters candy counter, Wild Blueberry Land

Published

2 hours ago

August 9, 2025

, Portsmouth Herald

Summer’s almost over, why not end it with a classic family road trip?

And these two stops might be the road trip destinations you’re looking for.

HGTV ranked the top 50 must-see roadside attractions in the United States, with one for each state, and the Home and Garden Network named two locations as New Hampshire’s and Maine’s best roadside attractions.

“Most of these stops are located right off major highways for easy hop-out and hop-back in photos,” HGTV said. “But there are a couple of gems worth the county road detour that we couldn’t resist including.”

Here’s what HGTV picked as the best and most eye-catching roadside attractions in New Hampshire and Maine.

Chutters, Littleton

HGTV chose Chutters as New Hampshire’s most stunning roadside attraction because of its record-breaking confectionary feat as well as its historic longevity.

What HGTV said about it: “No road trip would be complete without snacks, and if you’re driving through New Hampshire, you have to stop at Chutters—especially if you have a sweet tooth. Home of the world’s longest candy counter, this sugary shop in Littleton, New Hampshire, has been on Main Street for more than 100 years, and it features 112 feet of glass containers with all kinds of rare, nostalgic confections. And while the candy is most famous, don’t miss Chutters’ homemade fudge and chocolate, too.”

You can find Chutters at 43 Main St. in Littleton, New Hampshire. It operates from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.

“Grab a bag and choose from the vast array of sours and gummies, gourmet and traditional jellybeans, chocolates, licorice, caramels, and nostalgic pieces,” the Chutters website said. “Chutters is a treasure trove of tasty treats!”

Wild Blueberry Heritage Center, Columbia Falls

HGTV chose the Wild Blueberry Heritage Center because of how it highlights one of Maine’s most prized culinary achievements: cultivating the wild blueberry.

What HGTV said about it: “If you didn’t make a pitstop for a lobster roll, you didn’t road trip through Maine. However, The Pine Tree State also boasts another hallmark eat: wild blueberries. And the Wild Blueberry Heritage Center (formerly Wild Blueberry Land) on Route 1 in Columbia Falls is the place to get your fix. Handbuilt by wild blueberry farmers Marie and Dell Emerson in 2001, the bakery-meets-museum is literally shaped like a blueberry, with additional quirky structures to pose with. There’s a blueberry pie canopy, a blueberry throne, and inside you’ll find tasty treats, from fresh-baked pies to wild blueberry coffee.”

You can find the Wild Blueberry Heritage Center at 1067 U.S. Route 1 in Columbia Falls, Maine.

The heritage center operates from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., opens its doors starting June 27, and closes its doors on Oct 13, the Wild Blueberry Heritage Center website said.

Rin Velasco is a trending reporter. She can be reached at rvelasco@gannett.com.

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Destinations & Things To Do

Bangkok continues to strengthen its reputation as a top tourist destination

Published

2 hours ago

August 9, 2025

nationthailand

The campaign targets key markets including India, China, Malaysia, Laos, and Vietnam, offering special deals on accommodation, travel packages, and shopping, alongside promoting emerging tourism trends such as wellness travel, music festivals, sports, and international events.

“The government reaffirms Thailand’s readiness as a world-class destination, offering safety, service excellence, and unique charm, while continuing to strengthen the tourism sector for sustainable growth,” Sasikarn said.

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