New Hampshire Bound

Dear Diary, On Day 12 of our journey, we leave Maine kicking and screaming.  We stop in Portsmouth, New Hampshire to run in the Urban Forestry Center.

Wonderful setting on the shores of a salt water marsh, but not Maine.

We persevere.

We're on a mission.  This run puts the final notch in Cole's belt for this trip.

We bag NH.
Speaking of bags, here's Cole's travel bag which tells of his journeys.

On this trip we've added 5 more states in our quest to trail run across America.

Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Maine and New Hampshire.

Satisfied, we make tracks South.

Snoring the whole way.

At least 3 of us are able to bank some sleep...  The campground I had chosen in Littleton, MA is clean, full of amenities, charming even.  But, they stick me beside a train track junction. Plus, I'm wedged between an RV with 24 hr spotlights and another tent whose occupant watches Netflix at top volume until midnight.  Toto, we're not in Maine anymore.  Between the blinding light, the crashing of the connecting wagons and the shoot 'em up action movies, we get less than 2 hours of sleep total.  The next morning, people are out walking around, smiling, waving, happy.  I'm homicidal.  At times, it bothers me that I don't fit in.  In the last 25 years, I lived in town for only 2 years.  Most miserable years of my life.  Can't do it, and don't care anymore that I'm unfit for genteel society.  I'll take a teepee in the middle of nowhere over a mansion in the burbs.
New Hampshire's state motto: Live Free or Die.  I get it.