Waaaaaait, Cheshire and Hillsborough? Are we talking the WMass hilltowns here?

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East Rindge, NH, south of Keene.

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Ah, so same general feel, where you're just waiting to hear banjos in the distance...

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Actually the head banjo player worked maintenance at the school. He was the meanest, nastiest redneck I ever came across. He was, as they say, "stump stupid and parson narrow".
Most of us agree that he was an excellent bad example and an integral part of our education.

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Actually, interestingly, for the most part the townies were scared of us.

But, sophisticated, not so much. ;)

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Heee, townies tend to be scared of the weird smart kids, though...

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Oh, lawd.

Years ago, like very early '90s, I took a day trip with a friend, leaving from Weston, taking the Mohawk Trail all the way out to New York State, heading north a bit, and then coming home through the southern tiers of Vermont and New Hampshire.

We stopped for dinner at the Ashuelot Diner. "Spaghetti" there was a congealed mess with ketchup on it. Not spaghetti sauce, but ketchup. And store-brand ketchup at that, not even Heinz.

I live in Nashua now. I actually like it up here, as it's much more laid-back and less classist than the Boston area. But I wouldn't make the mistake again of eating dinner in the hinterlands at an unfamiliar restaurant.

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...that sounds about right, yes.

(I've spent the last four years or so living in the Berkshires and southern VT; the "goulash" around here makes me whimper - it's like Hamburger Helper, only without the spice. Think about that for a moment. yeah.)

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The militant blandness of Middul Amurkin food never fails to astound and terrify me.

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I posted about this, but last year when we drove through actual Muddle America, at each meal I had to argue about not getting gravy with it. Cheeseburger with sauteed onions -- and brown gravy.

In the end, I usually had to settle for "gravy on the side"; they simply couldn't cope with "no gravy".

To make a man my size tired of gravy, you need a lot of gravy.

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My father's cousin was on his town's volunteer fire department. One day a barn caught fire that straddled the town line. They settled the jurisdictional dispute by plying fire hoses on each other while the barn burned.
In 71 I lived in a leaky tent where Cabin in the Sky used to be. 71 was also rain-plagued and eventually I just put my wallet in a baggie and resigned myself to being sodden and mildew-ridden.

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*snicker*

Yeah, '71 was the summer I tented with Floater on the Island. I remember it rained a lot, because the other inmates thought it funny to cut our tent ropes in the middle of the night and it's twice as exciting if it's raining.

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They settled the jurisdictional dispute by plying fire hoses on each other while the barn burned.



I'm guessing that was photoshopped. I was looking for another one, black & white, taken long before the days of the personal computer.

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Wonderful!

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I would think that this was a training exercise, and they took the group portrait for the humor of it. (The replacement for the burned dining hall was burned down in a training exercise for these people's children many years later, as the camp was no longer used.)

It's a brilliant picture, though!

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So was this the summer portion of that ghastly gulag of a boarding school that you attended?

I'm with you - it's rainy, big deal! My feet don't get wet when I have to relieve myself and I have dry food to eat. Hurray!

Having said that, please let it clear up a bit for my backpacking vacation. Out there, I won't have the luxuries.

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It was -- though I enjoyed my stay fairly thoroughly, once I got my feet under me. The disasters just make better stories!

Yeah, weather assumes greater importance when you're camping. I went on a swing through PEI and Maine once, in March, and it rained the last couple of cays, and I still have memories of how ill I was by the time I got home.

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Aw jeez , it wasn't all _that_ bad up there . =8-)

The dining hall that was burnt down , had an old WWII vintage gas gong they used for a dinner bell , I searched the charred rubble 'till I found it and I have it still .
also a brandy new one I felt compelled to buy for some wierd reason .

The Professor neglects to mention that the outside field kitchen for the rest of the summer , was made up out of sheet metal fireboxes with grilles across thier open tops , sorta-kinda a 18' long BBQ and they went into town and bought a big back mounted tank typ of commercial bug sprayer and filled that with whatever it was they sprayed upon the nasty , 1/3 cooked chicken they tried to force feed me , I didn't eat Chicken again until I'd moved 3,200 miles away to Sunny Southern California...

The dining hall that had burnt down , was a wierd thing you'd only see in movies ~ two old trailers staggered side by side , one a 1948 the other an early 1960's and a ramshackle lodge sort of thing with a nice BIG stone fireplace , sorta-kinda attached to it , I really liked it but then I'm a country bumpkin . Jimmy B. (IIRC) and I camped there in the middle of winter once or twice and it was great .

Back at The Cabin In The Sky (it was atop a hill) , my bunk was right next to the HUGE 1930's vintage cast iron and nickle coal stove , a beautiful monstrosity that prolly weighs more than my old Mercedes .

I lost everything I owned in that fire and was never re-compensated , I found the melted remains of my old pocketwatch in the ashes .

It was , as they say , an interesting period in time .

I'd not wish it upon anyone , not ever my enemies but it was always very educational if nothing else and taught us how to amuse ourselves .

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it's rainy, big deal! My feet don't get wet when I have to relieve myself and I have dry food to eat. Hurray!

Now if it weren't for this pesky seasonal affective disorder...

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