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Vermont

 Nice. We’re at the Brattleboro KOA in Southern Vermont. https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=201563872774147443355.0004e02f0c80f1461c0bf&msa=0&ll=37.439974,-81.430664&spn=23.476512,53.569336  Tonight’s dinner Fresh from the roadside stand next door.The farm has been in the same family since 1770. The veggies all got steamed. Blueberries for dessert. Now Judy just wants to stay here and buy farm-fresh every day.  Tomorrow, Massachusetts then upstate New York. 
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We went on a Wild Moose Chase

 Early this morning.  Drove a loop from the campground through the White Mountains. We looked everywhere. Not a moose to be found.  However, we did find that we’re not spending nearly enough time in New Hampshire.  I think they made a mistake on their welcome to New Hampshire sign.  Maybe they meant to say, “Welcome to New Hampshire.  Live here or die.” A roaring campfire tonight  That settled down to coals Perfect for marshmallows Tomorrow, Vermont. 
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Maine

 Sometimes, especially at our age, when you do something or go somewhere, you can tell it’s not someplace you’re going to go again, or something you’re going to do again.  Maine is just like that only opposite.  We both want to spend a lot more time in Maine (in the summer). Rolling down the highway yesterday, still in Maine, we stopped at the Augusta/Gardiner KOA to visit with Sue and Roger; friends we met in Minnesota a few years back.  We only met them once, but they felt like old friends right away and we’ve stayed in touch ever since.  They’re spending the summer at the Augusta/Gardiner KOA, which was a convenient mid-day stopover.  Our paths crossed again after only three years. So now we’re out of Maine.  We drive across the border to New Hampshire and see the sign to welcome us: “Welcome to New Hampshire”“Life free or Die” That’s what it says at the Welcome Center. Yeah.  Well.  How about “Hi my name is Steve.  F*** with me and I’ll f***ing kill you.  Have a nice day.”  It could put a person in a strange mood, to drive into New Hampshire and the first thing you see is that sign. In spite of their state slogan, it *is* a beautiful state.  We’re at the Littleton/Lisbon KOA outside Littleton, NH.   https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=201563872774147443355.0004e02f0c80f1461c0bf&msa=0&ll=37.439974,-81.430664&spn=23.476512,53.569336 Tomorrow, we’re going to find time to go on a Wild Moose Chase! 
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We did it

 Neither one of us wanted lobster for dinner tonight.  We’ve been in Maine that long! We’ve moved south.  We’re at Hemlock Grove Campground outside Kennebunk and Kennebunkport. https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=201563872774147443355.0004e02f0c80f1461c0bf&msa=0&ll=37.439974,-81.430664&spn=23.476512,53.569336 Nice site.  Nice area.  We took a drive and a hike in a forest.    The last couple days of rain let up.  Warm and sunny today.  Nice evening.  Stared down a campfire. Tomorrow, New Hampshire. 
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I walked in hiking boots

 For last weekend’s walk, I dug out the boots I bought many years ago for hiking the high country of Colorado and backcountry treks with brother Bill. It was a great reunion with old friends from the closet.  Vasque Sundowners.  We have logged so many miles together, these boots and me.  This was a hike for boots.  Hills and valleys, inclines and declines, rocks and exposed roots, recent rain and mud.  A glorious trail through forests, fields, and bogs.  Not a hike for sneakers.    At mile 2 though, I found myself walking askew.  I checked the right boot to see if I had accumulated an extra layer of mud.  I hadn’t.  I checked the left boot to see what the matter might be.  There was no sole on that boot.  I had lost it at the edge of the last mud I had walked through.  My right boot was now taller than my left. Now wearing only one and a half boots, I pressed on to Lobster Point. Other parts and pieces of shoe construction came out along the way.  I didn’t want to leave any litter in the wilderness so I carried it all out.  At 3 miles, the sole came loose on the right boot.  I guess shoe-parts dry out over time.  I pressed on to Birch Point.  At 4 miles, the right sole came completely off.  Now at least I was level again.  It didn’t feel like I was walking across a constant hillside. I walked out in hiking boots.  I walked back in moccasins; soft-soled leather topped moccasins.  Together, we made it back to the car.  My faithful friends, got me through one more hike.  Twenty plus years together, but now it’s time for them to retire. Judy and I are not ones to casually give up on old things, but it is time to let them go.