A Weekend in New Hampshire

A Weekend in New Hampshire

Day 1

I’m  greeted with a hug, a thermos of peppermint tea, and two homemade blueberry muffins. They have a crunchy, sweet, strudel on top. I try my best to not get crumbs on myself or the car. Trees with the most beautiful reds, yellows, and oranges line the winding road. Mountains rise up in the distance and the most beautiful stream snakes the road.

We head to the mountains.The conversation is easy, immediately jumping into the nitty gritty details of life. The best kind of conversation in my book. I love hanging out with my friends’ moms. We meet a dog named Violet on our hike, she’s the sweetest little thing. 

I’m wrapped up in a blanket, reading on the couch. There are candles lit and a steaming mug of tea sits beside me. The front door opens and in walks one of the warmest souls I’ve ever met. I’m greeted with a big hug, one I haven’t felt since April. Molly and I are reunited again.

Day 2

With our stomachs full of blueberry walnut oatmeal, and our backpacks packed with peanut butter banana sandwiches, – made with love Molly’s mom says-  Molly and I set out on our hike. An hour drive on winding roads takes us to Zecliff. 

The GPS on my watch connects, success! We head out into the woods. We’re quiet, Molly and I. There is no pressure to make lasting conversation as we trod along the trail. We come across a waterfall, partially hidden behind the trees. I’m in awe of God’s creation. The beauty, the hope, the joy. It washes over me the way the water is washing over the rocks. 

Up, up, up, we go. The path is steep and rocky, muddy and a little slippery. Finally, we make it. We step off the trail and onto a beautiful outlook; a flat cliff overlooking the mountains. We sit down with our backs against a rock and eat our sandwiches while looking out at the view. It’s peaceful with a chill in the air. ‘Click’ goes the camera’s self-timer. We’re smiling, happy, and a little bit freezing. We pack up our things and head back down the mountain. 

We drive up to a grand ski resort. The kind that costs $400 a night at a minimum. I feel very underdressed in my muddy hiking pants next to fancily clad guests attending a wedding. Molly shows me around the resort. A corridor takes us past the pool. The smell of chlorine lingers in the air; it reminds me of being a little kid. We head back out to the car, speculating about what it would be like to stay there and laughing at how underdressed we were. It’s been a good day.

Day 3

We start the drive from Northern New Hampshire down to Keene. It’s a sunny, beautiful drive. The foliage lines the highway and mountains rise up in the distance. I’m happy to be here, curled into the car, chatting about life with one of my sweetest friends. It’s the perfect fall Saturday. 

Molly’s apartment is so aesthetic, like a Pinterest board of pale pinks and blues with cursive quotes on the walls and plants on the shelves. Her roommates are bubbly and teeming with excitement about a Halloween party happening later. Molly and I drop off my stuff and begin our walk around Keene. It’s a picturesque New England town. I feel as though I’m in a Hallmark movie, like any second I’ll turn around and bump into my soulmate. We wander into a coffee shop and stake out a table, snatching one as soon as it’s cleared. The guacamole is cold, as though it was just frozen, but the peppermint hot chocolate hits the spot. 

The Keene library is cozy. Molly picks out a couple of Outside Magazines while I take photos of covers of non-fiction books I want to read. I love having a friend who is content to spend an afternoon in this way.

Day 4

Time to check off another state from the list, Vermont. We listen to the National Parks After Dark podcast on the drive to Brattleboro. It’s safe to say that we’re obsessed. Upon arrival, our first stop is The Works Cafe for brunch. My sweet potato wrap is stuffed with egg, cheese, bacon, quinoa, pico de gallo, sweet potatoes and avocado. It’s an explosion of all my favorite flavors. I burn my tongue on my chai latte, I knew that was going to happen. 

We wander along downtown Brattleboro, which, again, feels like a town straight out of a Hallmark movie. Our numb hands hug our mugs from brunch, it’s colder than we anticipated. 

Molly met a climber while she was out biking one day. He has invited us to join him on his climbing for the day. We’ve listened to five episodes of National Parks After Dark at this point so we’ve psyched ourselves out a little. We go anyway, telling her roommates to be concerned if we’re not back by dark.

Brian, aka random guy Molly met on the side of the road, turns out to be very nice. He sets up an anchor at the top of an old bridge and we spend the afternoon top roping. The rock is crimpy and the foot holds are sparse but I feel strong as I pull myself up by my fingers. We find a smashed plate with a message on it near our climbing set up. While Molly climbs and Brian belays, I put the pieces together. There are a lot of pieces missing and the handwriting isn’t great but we make out the names Nate, Alexis, and the sentence “Fuck all boys.” It makes us laugh.

Back at home, Molly and I are curled up on her bed reading. The scent of an evergreen candle fills the room while Spotify’s Pumpkin Spice playlist plays in the background with only a reading lamp on. It’s calm, peaceful, and cozy. This scene is the perfect description for my friendship with Molly. She’s the kind of friend who makes your soul feel at peace. Warm, safe, seen. I’m lucky such a beautiful soul is my friend and that I got to spend this wonderful weekend together in her happy place.

Hugs,

Elisabeth