Jamaica to Peacham, Vermont

Waking to a cold morning in Jamaica State Park in the narrow canyon, we struck the tent as the sun was hitting the treetops.

Across the two streams, one looking good coming out of a reservoir upstream

 signs of hurricane Irene damage, including taking out the bridge in Jamaica.

Walked in the cemetery in Rawsonville amid many relatives resting peacefully in the glorious Vermont fall.  If  you have to spend eternity somewhere, his would be a good choice.  I found the grave of my greatgrandfather Charles Landman lying with his wife Phoebe.  Sweet.  And creepy.

Driving north on 100 on a narrow road

through Londonderry

stopped to walk and sing a hymn in a church with an open door

Missed the turn, went over a hill on 103, up into the woods on gravel roads but stopped by a bridge out, we backtracked through a long alley of enormous sugar maples.

Down more Vermont roads

too busy to pay attention, we passed through Plymouth Notch but missed the turn,had to double back but finally found Plymouth, home of Calvin Coolidge and two hundred year old Plymouth cheese factory.  As green and serene as ever with the old farm buildings looking like they will go another two hundred years easy.

We left with heartwarming words from Cal

then running late, we decided to drive east on 4 through Woodstock, still quaint and charming

to I91 at White River Junction, then north through more beautiful country

to Barnet where we turned east a short distance to Peacham, small and very scenic town on a hill overlooking a rather broad valley in the Northeast Kingdom

and home to Petey's friends Sean and Judith and son Liam.

I pitched my tent in their large yard, sheltered by the woodpiles that warn of the coming winter, but for this day all is sunshine and blue skies.