A Boy and His Goat

While we were photographing high water on the Blackwater River, we spied this boy walking his goat on a leash on a village road. I should have run up to him and asked permission for photographs with a better view, but I shied from doing that. If you click on the photograph here, you will see the photo in its original size in a new window.



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Town Dump

Why photos of the town dump? Well, I'm pleased to have one. In Vermont dumps were closed years ago and you have to pay for trash removal. There are recycling centers in each town for plastic, glass and metal. But everything else has to be hauled out by private contractors. The dump here in New Hampshire (and each town seems to have its own dump) accepts everything. You still have to sort and deposit stuff in the proper dumpster. The town makes money by selling the trash to companies that recycle and process it.

Our dump is on the edge of the Mt. Kearsarge State Forest where we hike just by walking out the back door. The last time we walked through the dump we got a good bundt cake pan that we use frequently. The dump attendant pulls useful items out of the trash and displays them in a special area for people to look through. You can find good, free stuff at dumps.

Wilmot Town Dump Set

Behind the Dump Hike

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Tipton Kimpton Brook After the Rain

We spent the day viewing the brooks and streams after Saturday's heavy rains. This is Tipton Kimpton Brook here in town. I made a (poor) video after two batteries on the still damp Canon died. If you look closely you can see the ruins of one stone wall of an old mill that used to be on the brook a hundred and more years ago.

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Wilmot Village Bike Loop

View Wilmot Village Bike Loop in a larger map

Wingnut and I loved riding bikes together. and this short (3.2 miles or 5.2 km) bike ride through this beautiful village is one of my favorites. The ride was about 5.4 miles (8.7 km) from our home and back. The roads are quiet and have barely any traffic at all. What does drive by is going very slowly and respectfully.

On Google Maps I have described this as “A delightful ride with rolling hills, village streets with little or no traffic. Historical monument, churches, ponds, livestock, great scenery. Paved road.”

In the middle of Wilmot is this beautiful Civil War Memorial. Every Wilmot citizen who has died in any war is listed here. Do you remember Billy Buskin, the Civil War horse memorialized in Wilmot? Billy was my Memorial Day post. At the Civil War Memorial is a memorial walk with paving stones memorializing various veterans. Billy Buskin is one of the stones:

We then rode past Tannery Pond (the opposite side from the swimming lessons. This bike loop actually goes around the pond (the long way.)

The final highlight of this ride is the Donkey. Remember him? Here, he is getting up after rolling on the ground. I want a donkey.

There are many beautiful sights on this ride and if you are in the area, I encourage you to bike this route.

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The Billy Buskin (The Horse) Civil War Memorial

What's the story - Wilmot Civil War memorial
Author(s): MARGOT SANGER-KATZ
Date: December 18, 2006
Page: B01 / Section: Local/State

WALKERS IN WILMOT Flat may notice an unusual Civil War memorial. Alongside the former Chase Farm lies a plaque dedicated to an equine veteran of that war. Billy Buskin, a horse who lived to the unusual age of 30, was buried here by his owner.

Capt. Francis Chase, who rode Billy Buskin throughout the war, was a wagon master of an ammunition train during the war, according to Florence Langley's history of Wilmot, Glimpse of the Past.

Chase originally asked for special permission to bury his companion with the Chase family in the town's Pine Hill Cemetery, said Barbara Sanborn, a town historical society member and a member of the bicentennial committee that created the monument. The cemetery said no, so Chase buried Buskin near his home.

Descendents of Chase donated the plot to the town in 1973, along with the nearby plot where Chase's dog, Captain, rests.

MARGOT SANGER-KATZ

Copyright 2005 Concord Monitor

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Robins and Sugaring

I saw my first robin of the year on Saturday in Wilmot, New Hampshire. According to New England tradition, March 7 was then my lucky day. And it was. The first robin also means that sugaring season has begun —

It is the first mild day of March: Each minute sweeter than before, The redbreast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. – William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

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