Chop Chop Billy Goat

We spent about five days in the White Mountains, New Hampshire. While we were there, Ma made us go to Robert Frost’s house in the pouring rain. We did the poetry trail, walking through the woods in the rain, with ticks and mosquitos, reading Robert Frost’s poems. Ma loved it, but Pa, Little Kid and I were wishing we hadn’t taken the road less traveled.

We spent one day hanging out at the swimming pond in the campground. On a bridge, there was a platform to jump off of, and I jumped into the fifty-two degree water at least ten times. It was really refreshing, in an ice cold way. Little Kid didn’t swim, but he waded in up to his waist.

It would have been crazy to camp right near the highest mountain on the east coast and not go to it, so one day we went to Mt. Washington. Little Kid walked one and a half miles of our six mile hike. We had a picnic lunch at Hermit Lake, a bunch of shelters for hikers and skiers, before continuing down the trail. We had only gone .7 miles past Hermit Lake on a very steep trail before we were stopped by snow. The views were incredible!