In the lovely small town of Hancock (home to New Hampshire’s oldest inn, The Hancock Inn - a great launching place for biking or hiking, or taking advantage of the Inn’s excellent croquet course), you’ll find a terrific general store, the Hancock Market, where you can get the makings of a fall picnic (don’t miss Orchard Hill bread if they’re not sold out).įrom downtown Hancock, past Norway Pond, it’s just five minutes to the trails at Willard Pond Wildlife Sanctuary, where the light shining through the leaves provides a kind of stained-glass effect as luminous as anything Tiffany ever created. Lowlands provide another way of taking in the fall colors. If there’s elevation thrown in, you can expect broad, sweeping vistas, but I’m just as partial to those tucked-away places where what knocks you out is a single magnificent tree or a glimmering view across a pond or lake, or a path through the woods with a red and golden canopy overhead. Our guiding principle was simple: Stay off major highways whenever possible.Īnywhere deciduous trees are found - and in New Hampshire that means oak, maple, birch, aspen, ash - you’ll get dazzling color. And I didn’t forget my trusty New Hampshire gazetteer, which proved to be a wise choice considering how often we fell out of cellphone service on those back roads I favored. White’s “Charlotte’s Web” - set over the course of a New England summer and fall - I brought along a copy to read aloud as he drove.
Having learned that Jordan had never read E.B.
We set out just as the sun was coming up - with a playlist featuring old road-trip songs (“America,” by Simon & Garfunkel “Fast Car,” by Tracy Chapman and an obscure, but beloved, favorite, “When Fall Comes to New England,” by Cheryl Wheeler). Driving companions: Road-trip songs, E.B.
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