New Hampshire Magazine September 2017

603 LIVING
illustration by brad fitzpatrick
Shoe Gorge
And other underrated New Hampshire attractions
BY MIKE MORIN
It has occurred to me that, not only
is our state a wonderful destination
for out-of-towners, but my own New
Hampshire home holds plenty of opportunities
not always obvious to the untrained eye.
Work with me here.
When Barbara and I are just too lazy
to jump in the car for a two-hour drive
to North Conway to take in the dizzying
sights from atop Cathedral Ledge, we can
scratch that itch with a 20-second descent
into the basement, which looks like the
Presidential Range made up of unpacked
moving boxes. There are times we’ve
climbed up the highest peak to U-Haul
Lookout for a view of the many other
exciting spots in the cellar. We once spotted
a toaster oven that was assumed lost in a
notch of snow-peaked storage containers. I
wonder if Willem Lange would like a tour?
One of my favorite stretches of New
Hampshire scenery is the Kancamagus
Highway that drives us pronunciation
sticklers crazy when we hear it said incorrectly,
which is most of the time. Adding to
96 nhmagazine.com | September 2017
our pronunciation drama is Barb’s extreme
Boston accent. She actually grew up in
Everett, Massachusetts, which has its own
dictionary and language.
“Hey, Babs, shall we visit Shaker Village
in Canterbury?,” I might ask.
“I LOVE Sha-kuh Village,” she’ll shoot back.
“Do you realize you just called it Shakuh
Village?”
“No, suh,” she’ll always say.
If we can’t get to the White Mountains,
all I have to do is walk from the living
room to our bedroom, where, on any given
day, I can take photos of Barbara’s Shoe
Gorge. Sure, Flume Gorge offers dramatic
flashes of rock meeting rushing water, but
in the Shoe Gorge, Jimmy Choo ankle strap
pumps meet an overflow of other Zappos
footwear cascading from her closet. Why
close the closet door and lose the view?
As much as I love the Mt. Washington
Observatory and weather station, the two
times I’ve been there, the rock pile was
shrouded in a smoky gray curtain, making
it impossible to see the men’s restroom in
the souvenir shop, let alone Canada. In
place of experiencing the world’s worst
weather in person, I took WMUR meteorologist
Josh Judge’s recommendation
and bought the RadarScope app for my
smartphone so that I can see approaching
storms from the comfort of my camp chair
next to Shoe Gorge.
The app cost 10 bucks, but is so good
it detects storms headed to New Hampshire
almost without flaw. Recently it even
picked up a flying squirrel in Peterborough.
And should we ever miss the annual
Highland Games in Lincoln, we can still
enjoy our own version just a mile away at
the Windham Transfer Station. As much as
we love the caber toss and hammer throw,
I can drag my trash to the dump and, with
a sweaty heave and manly ho, hit the receptacle
from 20 feet away. Let’s just say the
dump workers are not fans of my version of
the Highland Games.
I’m guessing if I were to don a kilt, they
would certainly look the other way. NH