ThunderSnow.us

Wanderlust shows the routes of twenty-three historic journeys, with info and photos for each. I’d love to see more depth for each, but nifty nonetheless (via What I Learned Today).

Last weekend, Dan and I went up to North Conway, for our first anniversary. (Well, close enough - the day itself was Monday, and I had to teach that night.) We stayed at Stonehurst Manor, did some hiking, and swam in the pool. Our plan had been to get going early-ish on Friday, so that we could maybe go swimming/hiking/something along the Kanc. The early thing didn’t happen, and then I’m pretty sure that everyone in Boston was trying to go to NH for the weekend. Traffic was gross, both along 128 and on I-93.

Saturday we climbed Mt. Avalon, and watched the Conway Scenic at the crossing in Bartlett, and swam in the pool at the hotel. I need to go swimming more.

Sunday we climbed up to Champney Falls (have I been there before? Mom? It felt vaguely familiar… but falls all look alike), which was gorgeous. Stunning. Wow. Totally will do that again if I’m there after a rain (instead of late in the summer when everything is dry).

Also on Sunday, I got Dan and his mad photography skillz to document some knitting.

First, socks!

These are the Spring Forward socks, in Auracania Ranco Multi. I like this colorway a lot - it’s the “rainbow” colorway, but the colors are all very muted and low-saturation. I also like this pattern a lot - the squiggles are a lot of fun and the stitch pattern is easy to memorize. The pattern also shows up well even in the multicolored yarn, which is always a plus. I might do more repeats on the leg if I were to do these over - there’s plenty of yarn left and I really prefer my socks a little longer than these.

And then, a sweater!

This is Cece, by Bonnie Marie Burns (from ChicKnits, who have all sorts of lovely stuff), in Gedifra Merino Cotton. The yarn is from Mom’s and my trip to WEBS in the spring, in which there was serious stash enabling going on. But, eight balls of the Merino Cotton has turned into this lovely sweater, which is a pretty substantial inroad on the pile.

Notes: I made the body two inches longer than called for (cause I’m tall!), and still got a cropped silhouette. If I wanted this to feel like a more traditional-length cardi I’d have to add at least two or three inches more, and then the shaping would all change. (The shaping starts at the waist and goes up, so you only ever increase - this works because of the cropped length but wouldn’t in a longer sweater.) I made the three-quarters length sleeves, which are still a little on the short side, but I was afraid of running out of yarn. They’re also a little snug at the cast-on edge.

I wasn’t nuts about the lace pattern until I finished it. I’m still not wild about it up close, but the overall effect I like better than I expected. Yay! And the yarn is a beautiful color. It’s a bit splitty to work with, but not too bad. I machine washed the finished sweater(cold water, delicates setting), and the yarn bloomed… and shrank (my swatch only did the first of those). The fabric ended up feeling much sturdier (which was a goal), and the sweater was a bit more fitted than I’d anticipated. It’s stretched out a bit, and right now seems to fit just right, but I don’t think I’ll toss it in the washer again.

One of the things that makes Odiorne Point such a nifty place to walk around is that I know rather a lot about the park’s history. Although it is today the only stretch of undeveloped coastline in New Hampshire, it has a long history of human use and development. This is not the “untouched forests” sort of undeveloped.

For those who like to see spatial relationships of locations, follow along on the park map

This is the Odiorne family farmhouse. (On the map, it’s the cluster of buildings on the marsh side of Rt 1A (which is Ocean Boulevard).) John Odiorne settled land out here in 1632. (That year is being pulled from memory, and may be off by a bit. It was the early-mid-1600s, though.) This is the third house to stand on that site, and most of the outbuildings are long gone. There’s a barn with a (rapidly disappearing) greenhouse attached. The most recent inhabitant was Ralph Brown, who lived there after World War 2, and left the house to the state. The house and its land is now part of the park, and NH Parks has an office there.

From the house, if you cut perpendicular to the road, towards the shore, you find this spot. The monument was placed where (the former) Columbus Road meets the water, and honors the first settlement in NH, which was right around here. In 1620, David Thomson anchored the Jonathon in Little Harbor (just north of Odiorne Point), and built a “Great House”. The Odiorne family tradition is that the Great House site is directly across from the farmhouse - a location that was used as a gravel pit when Ocean Boulevard was built through this area, making any sort of archaeological excavation impossible.

Standing at the monument (which was originally placed at the end of Columbus Road in 1890-something (99?), then moved to the family cemetery behind the Odiorne farmhouse, then moved back to its current location just this spring - all of the landscaping around it is new as well) and looking down Columbus Road, which was lined with stone walls and trees. (For those looking at the map, Columbus Road is the path closest to the pond, connecting Ocean Boulevard with the shore.) Columbus Road was built in the mid to late 1800s, when spending summers at the seashore was becoming fashionable, and so people wanted easier access to the water here in northern Rye.

Also from the era of summers at the seashore, the Hotel Wentworth. These days, it’s operated by Mariott and called the Wentworth-by-the-Sea. Built in the 1870s or so, it was closed and more-or-less abandoned in the 1980s, and was restored and re-opened in 2003. It’s not actually in Odiorne, but is just north of the park, on the other side of Little Harbor.

There was a hotel of the same style, slightly smaller, built at the northern tip of Odiorne Point, called Sagamore House. It only operated for two seasons before burning to the ground, and was never rebuilt.

The thing I have the hardest time with is remembering that, although today Odiorne Point is almost all young forest, 100 years ago it was cleared. First for farming, then as fancy homes and lawns. Even 50 years ago, it was mostly cleared. For this reason, there’s a lot of quick-growing staghorn sumac at Odiorne. This plant is a “weed tree”, one of the first species to move in as cleared land returns to forest. It’s harmless (there is a poison sumac, but this is not it) and the branches have this fabulous fuzzy texture. (Thus the name.)

Later: The twentieth century, and how this land transitioned from private property to state park.

I spent about an hour walking around Odiorne Point this afternoon. The fall leaves are at their absolute best right now (Will. Not. Use. Leafpeeper. Language.) and, although I walk through some parts of Odiorne quite frequently, there are other parts I rarely see, and even more rarely when I have the luxury to stop and take photos.

These herons are starting to look a little drab, but I still love them.

And this small vine has leaves that turn a beautiful scarlet… but isn’t one you want to touch. Poison ivy is (to me) most recognizable in the fall. The color makes the leaves stand out more, at which point their characteristic triplet arrangement and droopy pose call themselves to my attention.

Almost all the fall flowers have gone to seed. I think these little fluffy seedheads are the asters that were blooming everywhere a month ago. I did see one aster in bloom, but it was looking pretty bedraggled.

Most of these clusters of juniper berries had fallen and were scattered below the tree. I don’t know if that’s natural, just the trees way of distributing seeds, or if there was some sort of foul play. Perhaps the chipmunks?

There are some biiig maple trees out in those woods. Most of them were originally decorative plantings, from when this land was private residences.

And of course the sky was that unbelievable October blue color and the sun was shining.

In fact, the sun was shining rather a lot. This salt marsh is the inland portion of Odiorne. Ocean Boulevard (NH 1A) runs between the marsh and the woods along the shore. I’ve seen maps from before the road was built, and the shore portion of Odiorne was almost an island. Now the south end of the marsh is cut off from the water by the road, and the north end is hindered by the bridge over Seavey Creek (the inlet channel). Salt marshes wither up and die without enough tidal flow, but this one seems to be holding up okay.

Check out the rest of the photos. I plan to post some more of them and write a bit about the park’s history, but I need to do some homework first!